#i went through my activity this morning just reading tags and stuff and i had so much fun😭

[softquietsteadylove]

But also!!! I love the headcanons!!! Can I request more for a different AU? (your choice for which AU, I can honestly say I’d read novels about any of them and I want to know EVERYTHING)

You...you want to hear my headcanons?

Okay!!!! (I'm so excited)

So let's talk Ballerina/Boxer AU, because that's another one with a lot of in-between things I've imagined but haven't appeared in any stories, even if I've alluded to them in the tags.

Mutual pining--my absolute favourite. Thena saw Gil a few times going into his studio across the hall. Sersi immediately called her out on it because Thena does not stare at guys. Thena doesn't really notice guys, for the most part. Until the handsome boxer smiles and waves at her. Sersi is on high alert.

Likewise, Gil noticed her because who wouldn't? He adjusted his schedule so he could come in a little earlier and catch a glimpse of her before class. Once he was smiling and waving and walked right into the propped open door. He felt like an idiot and avoided eye-contact for a week, but she was completely charmed by it.

Thena is all grace but at home she's a little forgetful. She's so exhausted that by the time she gets in the door everything is getting dropped on the spot. Then she comes out the next morning looking for her bag, her shoes, her water bottle, everything. Having Gil around has actually helped her keep her stuff organized better, she just doesn't want to admit it.

Gil loves spoiling her. He thinks it's so cute to get to see his graceful and beautiful swan curled up on the couch in a grumpy little ball. She loves watching tv with her head on a pillow on his lap with his fingers running through her hair. She has no idea what's happening in any of the shows they watch together because she always falls asleep, but Gil gives her the gist of what happens. It's super all-over-the-place and she still doesn't know what happens, but it's sweet.

She used to let him help her with her cool down after classes and rehearsals but it always ends up with them getting up to other things so now she has to ban him until after she's done or she won't stretch properly.

He brings up the locker room incident on at least a weekly basis.

Thena has never been in all that serious a relationship before. She's embarrassed and thinks it's terrible, but Gil doesn't care. He's happy and proud to be the first man she calls her 'boyfriend'. Sometimes he jokingly slutshames himself in comparison to her.

Thena only owns one pair of jeans, and one white leather jacket. Everything else is...what you might imagine a professional ballerina to own. Again, she thinks maybe this isn't a good thing, but Gil doesn't care of she dresses super casual or not.

Once they started seeing each other he immediately got his regular suit re-tailored and bought three new ones, so he could have options for her show nights, or if she went to fancy events and stuff. He just wants to feel like he belongs with his Gorgeous Swan.

Ben knew Thena had a thing for Gil from the first moment she mentioned him. All she said was "Gil, the boxing instructor in the studio across from ours" and he went oh yes, your future husband.

Thena was never nervous for performances until Gil started coming to them. It's not terribly nervous, maybe more like excited butterflies. And when she comes on stage he makes a loud 'whoo!' which everyone hates and is inappropriate for the venue, but she loves it.

Thena is much more eager to experiment than Gil. He's up for it, of course, but she's the one who's actively searching for ways or excuses to get up to wild things together. Unless he's going to ask her about it later, in which case it never happened.

Early on, Gil asked to do her warm up with her, for a change in his routine. It nearly broke him.

Thena is completely at the mercy of her students. First it was them calling Gil her boyfriend before they were really that official, which was why she would get so flustered. She didn't know that he loved them doing that. They go 'oooooh!' every time they see him, which embarrasses her every time. Soon they'll start asking if they're going to get married, at which point she will explode and burst into flames on the spot.

Sersi will say 'yes, they will', like a traitor.

Gil has a more distanced but friendly relationship with his boxing students. His oldest and friendliest student is Makkari, who was the one to tell him to just talk to Thena for a month before he ended up actually doing it.

After her fall, Gil starts subtly asking if and when she would ever give up performing for any reason (he's just worried about her).

Gil would never do anything as petty as retaliate against Lara for how she treats Thena. But he did once see her and her husband getting out of their car one day downtown. He called and had the car towed by claiming it had been there way past the allowed parking time.

When they move in, Gil will move in with Thena, because she has more stuff, it's easier, he's always there anyway, and he thinks her apartment is nicer than his.

The rose he gave her the first night he asked her out is dried properly and sits in a vase on a shelf on her wall above her bed (very romantic).

When Gil meets Jack, Jack asks if he and Aunt Thena are in love, to which Gil excitedly says he's head over heels for her. Thena is eavesdropping and has to stick her head in the fridge to recover.

[lexosaurus]

Emergency Contact: Part 4

read on: [ao3] [ffn]

Also check out the incredible art for this chapter by @ravenatural-art

Characters: Lancer & Phantom Tags: Hurt/Comfort, found family WC: 5219 Summary: When William Lancer answered the phone that day, little did he know that he would go from an average literature teacher and cat-dad to now the emergency foster parent of a very injured teenage ghost.

Part: [1] [2] [3]

— — —

“Really? Again?” Phantom said.

“Yes, we need to make sure the dough won’t crack.”

Phantom held up his sheet of misshapen pasta dough. “Why? Isn’t this soft enough? Look, no cracks!”

William raised an eyebrow, putting down the fork he had been using to stir the spinach into his ricotta cheese and egg mixture. He leaned over and pinched the dough with his fingers. “Fold it in one more time and then you can adjust the setting on the pasta machine.”

“Yes, Chef Lancer!” Phantom rolled his eyes but nonetheless complied with William’s harsh demands.

“What’s wrong?” William teased. “I thought you said you knew how to cook.”

“Yeah, like, regular pasta! You know, the kind that comes in a box!” 

“Fresh pasta is always better.”

“And more annoying.”

“Oh, come now, it’s not that hard.”

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have just used the box stuff.”

William would never admit that he had spent the morning scrolling through adoptive and foster parent forums looking for bonding activities he could do with Phantom now that the child had healed enough to walk around freely.

“I’ve found success in cooking with new foster kids. Especially more hands-on dishes like homemade pasta. It allows us some time to get comfortable with each other, it’s fun, and it gives us a tasty reward!”

Well, if VioletsRed432 said it worked for her, then of course William immediately went to the grocery store for the necessary ingredients. 

“It builds character. And it tastes good. You’ll see.”

Phantom turned the dial on the pasta machine, narrowing the opening for the dough to travel through. 

“So, other than boxed pasta, what sorts of things do you like to cook?” William asked.

“I don’t know. It was always sort of a necessity for us. My um—my parents weren’t very good cooks. My…sister was the one who cooked for us most of the time.”

William kept his gaze fixed on the mixture in his bowl. It was the first time Phantom had offered any sort of information about his past, and like Dante’s Inferno was he going to ruin it.

“Well, in that case, what sorts of things did she make you?”

“Um…easy stuff. You know, like pasta, chicken, rice. That sort of thing. She…she was always really into ‘healthy adolescent development,’ or whatever you call it. She wanted to make sure I got all my nutrients.” The corner of Phantom’s lip quirked up. “Not that it really mattered. But she was nice like that.”

William wondered if she had also died along with his parents. Maybe their family had been in an accident of some nature? 

Why else would Phantom avoid them? Why have William come to the hospital instead of his sister?

Although…now that he thought of it, it wasn’t like there were many people who reported corporal, deceased relatives visiting after the funeral. Maybe it was somewhat of a taboo for ghosts higher on the ectoplasmic scale to go back to living relatives, then?

Not for the first time, William wished there were some more prominent ghost experts on the field who had more amicable one-on-one interaction with the ghosts outside of their captivity. Though he had been digging through papers since the beginning of Phantom’s tenure at his residence, he had hardly gathered any useful information. Maybe he would just have to begrudgingly accept his role as the new pioneer in ectoplasmic adolescent psychology.

Him, Mr. Lancer. A high school literature teacher.

Wasn’t that a depressing thought?

“Your sister sounded like a very kind person,” he said, attempting his venture into uncharted waters.

Fortunately, unlike what the “expert” papers suggested, Phantom didn’t explode into a violent light-show at the mere prod into his past. 

“She was…is, I don’t know.”

William knew he failed to hide his reaction at that. But just as he had opened his mouth to say more, Phantom’s head jerked up.

“Car.” Phantom pointed to the window where a black Chevy had pulled into the driveway. “You sure it’s ok that I’m out here?”

“Absolutely. As I’ve said before, Laura already knows that you’re staying here with me. If she wanted to turn you over to the government, she would have done it two weeks ago.”

“Okay.” Phantom exhaled a long breath. “Okay, got it.”

William set his fork down and made for the door. As always, he could hear Laura before he could see her.

“Jesus, Will, you feeding your chrysanthemums steroids or something?” Laura yelled from his walkway.

William opened the door, a smile involuntarily adorning his lips. “Laura, always a pleasure.”

She stepped through the threshold and peeled off her jean jacket to reveal a plaid shirt underneath. “Seriously though, how the hell are you getting your flowers to look like that? Mine keep dying on me.”

“Irrigation is a marvelous work of science.”

“Maybe I’ll try that next year.” She set her jacket on a coat hanger in the closet and kicked off her shoes as if she were in her own home. And well, she may as well have been. For the past twenty years, she had been a constant in William’s life. Their friendship may have begun with fast food and movie nights in William’s first dingy apartment, but through the years they had grown thicker than thieves, as Laura’s wife Cassandra put it.

“So…” She started in an attempt to lower her voice. Although, even she had once admitted that the skill of an ‘indoor voice’ was something she may never master.

“He’s in the kitchen,” William finished quickly. 

“Got it!” Laura welcomed herself into the house. “Something smells good in here!”

There was a clatter from the kitchen, and William hurried over to see a flustered Danny Phantom hurriedly picking up a few utensils from the floor.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he said. “I—uh—my bad.”

Laura, who was no stranger to nervous teens, didn’t hesitate to move over to the mixing bowl. “Wow, you're making fresh ravioli? Gourmet cooking!”

Phantom stood back up, awkwardly straightening out his oversized hoodie. He glanced between William and Laura as if they’d each grown a second head. “Yeah. Uh, glad to impress?”

“I hope Will isn’t giving you too hard of a time in the kitchen. He can be such a tyrant!”

“Oh please.” William plucked the now-dirty utensils out of Phantom’s hand and plopped them in the sink. “You can hardly say that with a straight face.”

“Ha! You know I love to tease.”

“Well, I believe introductions are in order. Laura, this is Phantom. Phantom, Laura. Although, you may know her better as Ms. Tetslaff.”

“Oh, he needs no introduction.” Turning to Phantom, she said, “I see you enough meandering in our halls!”

If it was even possible, Phantom’s cheeks burned an even brighter shade of green. “Oh—uh—” he spluttered.

Laura tilted her head back and laughed, her voice booming in William’s quiet home. “Will, I like this one!”

“Glad to hear as much. As you can see, we’re not quite done here. Would you like to help us fill the pasta?”

“Happily!” Laura grabbed the sheet of dough from the table. “Nice and soft! Perfectly done.”

Like a spell, the awkwardness snapped from Phantom’s face, replaced with his teenage indignation. “That’s what I’ve been saying! But no, Lancer said it needed to be worked more!”

“Did I not give you the okay to roll it thin?”

“Yeah but that was after like twenty thousand other times folding and cranking it through your rusted machine!”

“Oh, and which one of us has cooked pasta before?” William asked. “You? No? That’s what I thought.”

Phantom rolled his eyes so hard, William thought they would disappear straight into his skull.

Laura barked another laugh. “Teenagers! Always in a hurry, huh?”

“You’re telling me.”

As if to prove William’s point, Phantom threw his hands in the air and huffed, “Whatever!” 

Even with Phantom’s outward indifference, when it came time to fill and seal the raviolis, William couldn’t help but notice Phantom’s eyebrows knitting in concentration as he perfectly spaced out his fork imprints around the edges. When he and Laura held a competition to see who could make the most immaculate ravioli, William noted the way Phantom’s eyes lit up with pride as he presented his pasta, the way he flashed his teeth in a wide smile when he won, the way his aura brightened and his feet left the ground.

Phantom was finally setting in. And all it took was a dinner night with his old gym teacher. 

“Alright now cooking them is actually quite fast. The tricky part is being gentle with them so they don’t burst. Would you like to try it for me?” William hovered in front of the pot of boiling water, offering Phantom the ladle.

It was fascinating how the same teenager who jumped straight into battle against ghosts twice his stature was so quick to cower away from a mere ladle. 

“No, it’s fine. You can do it.”

“Suit yourself.” 

“So Phantom, or should I call you by your first name?” Laura asked, leaning against the counter.

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh—um, you can call me Danny.”

“Alright, Danny. So what do you do for fun around here? You know, when you’re not out catching ghosts?” 

“Um…” Phantom’s eyes flickered over to Lancer. “I don’t know. Normal things I think. Like watching movies and playing video games.”

“Another gamer? You know, Will here is a bit of a gamer too!”

William’s cheeks heated up. “Laura, I’m hardly—”

“He’s lying. He plays Doomed like every weekend.”

Phantom’s eyes bugged out. “Seriously?”

William sighed. “Yes, although I know it is hard to believe, teachers do in fact have hobbies too.”

Laura failed to stifle her chuckle. That conniving little…

“I love that game.”

William nearly dropped his ladle into the pot of boiling pasta.

“My friends and I play it all the time. I’ve been stuck on level nine forever. One of my friends is really good at the game. She apparently joined just to troll me and this other guy—she’s crazy good at video games—and then ended up getting hooked on it.”

“Great, now I’ve got two nerds in my vicinity!” 

But William could hardly pay attention to Laura’s friendly moaning because something tight in his gut had begun to unravel. And then he realized what it was.

It was that little barrier separating William from Phantom. That thick wall Phantom had constructed so perfectly to give others the semblance of his personality without actually revealing anything.

But here it was: another facet of Phantom’s true interests outside of ghost hunting. A taste as to what was behind that glowing aura. 

And William was ecstatic. 

Phantom had mentioned enjoying space and astronomy. And while William had secretly checked out a book on his Libby app regarding the history of NASA and was planning on getting to it this weekend when he had downtime, this was perfect. This was an interest he knew about, something he could hold a conversation in.

And so he couldn’t help himself. “I have six of the seven keys.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the way Phantom’s jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Phantom exclaimed.

“It’s true,” William said, spooning the ravioli out of the water. “I’m on level thirteen. Just need to beat this to get the seventh key and then I can beat the game.”

“You what?!” 

“Oh no, Will, you’ve broken the kid!”

And William stood there, his facial skills acquired from years of working in education fully invoked as he gazed innocently over to the boy who’s shock was still mounting. His eyes sparkled as he stared at William with awe and wonder. And maybe this was a trick of the light, but William could have sworn his aura was glowing just a little bit brighter.

Phantom’s mouth moved soundlessly before finally letting out a, “But how?”

“As I said., teachers have hobbies outside of school.”

“Yeah but Doomed?” Phantom’s legs formed a tail as he snapped over to William, hovering behind as he finished putting the cooked pasta in a bowl. “I figured you’d be into something like knitting or whatever English teachers do when they’re not reading.”

“Kid, you are too funny!” Laura said.

“I don’t know!” Phantom’s face flushed green. “I just never figured you’d play video games!”

“Phantom, I assure you that I’ve been playing video games since before you were born.”

“Clearly! Freaking level thirteen—dude!” 

William didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that boyish wonder in the child’s face. “We can play together sometime. I’ll show you all my tricks.”

If possible, Phantom’s eyes grew even wider at that. 

“I don’t think he wants to,” Laura quipped. “Sounds like he’d rather spend the day with my class reliving his teenage memories of running the mile—”

“Gross, don’t even joke about that!” Phantom said, although his words had little bite to them. He grabbed an empty plate and began serving himself. 

It was nice to see, for once, the boy acting comfortable enough to get food in William’s home without a second thought.

“Coming from a dead person, those tests are torture.”

Laura followed Phantom’s lead, taking her own plate and scooping pasta and salad onto it. “Not much of a runner, are you?”

“Flying’s a lot more fun.” 

“How does that all work?” Laura asked.

William hadn’t breached into too much of the ghost-biology territory so as not to scare Phantom off, but he had to admit he was curious as well.

Phantom’s tail morphed back into legs and he settled down in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that, for one. Flying and everything. How does that work?” Laura asked.

“Oh…” Phantom tilted his head. “Flying? I don’t really know. I just sort of do it. I think it’s an ectoplasm thing. I don’t know enough about science or ectobiology to know for sure. But I’m sure there’s some paper or something out there that explains it.”

“I wonder if the Fentons have something,” Laura mused.

William couldn’t help but notice the way Phantom stiffened at the mention of their name.

“Probably,” he said, forcing his eyes away from Phantom as he sat down in his own chair. “But there must also be scientists in the Ghost Zone, right?”

Phantom relaxed once again. “Yeah! Actually, I’m friends with one. This guy Frostbite? You wouldn’t have heard of him. He stays in the Zone.”

The name Frostbite rang a bell, but William couldn’t place where he’d heard it from. 

“He’s a scientist ghost?” Laura asked.

Phantom took a bite out of his pasta, and his eyes immediately lit up. He took his time swallowing before he answered, “Sort of. He’s the leader of one of the Zone’s ghost civilization islands—I don’t really know what to call them. It’s a bunch of yetis, basically. Their whole thing is science, though. They’re really cool. I stay with them a lot when I’m in the Zone.”

Now that was curious wording. Based on how happily Phantom spoke of this ghost, it didn’t seem like he was the source of Phantom’s lacerations.

So then why hadn’t Phantom gone to him? If he wasn’t home—a place where Phantom could no longer go—then why had Phantom stayed with William instead? 

Unless…

Unless this Frostbite character was too far. Unless Phantom’s home was on Earth. Unless Phantom didn’t have a home in the Ghost Zone.

And the realization hit William like a train because now it seemed only too obvious how often Phantom was spotted in the human world, why he was so protective over Amity Park, how he ended up in Amity General Hospital at all.

It was because Phantom lived here. In Amity Park.

His home was in Amity.

So then where the hell was Phantom living? Who was he with? Were they humans? Were they other ghosts?

How did he get so hurt? 

Thankfully, it didn’t seem that Phantom nor Laura had picked up on the whirlwind of thoughts running through Wiliam’s brain. They both sat at the table now talking animatedly about other facets of the Ghost Zone, seemingly oblivious to William’s existence. And this was perfect because William suddenly felt faint.

He tried to think back to the few articles about ghost sociology and psychology he’d stumbled across over the years, but he couldn’t remember anything about powerful ghosts habiting the Earth. He remembered reading about weaker ones—usually, they were so weak that they could only be detected via ectoplasmic scanners. 

So to hear Phantom imply that he, a stronger ghost who could easily have his own nook in the Ghost Zone, actually resided in Amity Park? Well, that was unprecedented.

He wondered if that was part of the reason why Phantom seemed to tense whenever the Fentons were mentioned. Maybe they suspected so much and had been trying to track down Phantom’s home? Maybe they had already found it?

William wished he had a way of asking. Although with the current state of that family and the CPS calls that he was going to place if he didn’t get a response to his latest email, he didn’t think he would be in their good graces for too much longer.

Well, maybe at the rate he and Phantom’s friendship had been blooming, he might get an answer from the source himself.

But not today. Not right now. 

“...so that’s why Amity’s such a hotspot for ecto-activity?” Laura was asking, a piece of ravioli dangling off her fork. 

Phantom nodded, his face sunnier than William had seen him in a long time. His freckles glowed, dotting his skin like constellations, and a small fang poked out of his grin.

“Will it move? The point where the two dimensions touch?” 

“I don’t know,” Phantom said. “I don’t think it’s always entirely linear, either. The GZ’s made of ectoplasm, and I don’t understand the physics behind it at all. I grew up on human physics, not ghost physics. Like, Frostbite’s people are also time travelers. They usually don’t take other ghosts along with them, but I went with them once and learned that Ancient Greece used to be a hotspot for ecto-activity.”

“Maybe the humans need to start teaching about ecto-physics,” William mused, rejoining the conversation.

“Well, you should tell some of your academic people to get on that!” Phantom said.

“Maybe the Fentons should do that lecture on ectology,” Laura said. “I know the administration’s been talking about it for a while.”

William tried to make his glance over to Phantom not seem too obvious. “Considering their assembly on ghost safety ended up with a student drenched in ectoplasm and the fire alarm pulled, I don’t think the PTA will approve of that so soon. But others in the field are experts too. We might be able to pull one of them in.”

“I can vet them!” Phantom cut in. Then sheepishly, he rubbed his neck and added, “You know, if you want.” 

William could have sworn he recognized that little shy quirk from somewhere. But whatever was on the tip of his tongue refused to come out.

“There’s no better vet for a qualified ectologist than a ghost.” William offered him a thumbs up. 

Phantom beamed then turned his attention back to his nearly finished plate of food, eating with more gusto than William had seen from him. 

And thank goodness for that. He may not have been an expert on ghost biology, but it was plainly obvious that Phantom needed the calories.

“There’s plenty more if you’d like. Help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Laura grabbed her now-empty plate and stood. “This meal is delicious! Who knew you would make such a good sous-chef, Phantom?”

Phantom blushed that adorable bright green. He ducked his head before peering up at William, a soft smile on his lips. “Thanks. You know…for everything.”

“Of course.” William wasn’t sure if he failed to hide the warmth that overtook him to his core. “My home is yours, okay?”

“Yeah.” Phantom’s eyes turned glassy, and he hid under his bangs. “Still, thanks.”

— — —

The telltale sound of crackling ectoplasm came first. Danny sprang up, hairs on his neck commanding attention before the shuddering breath of his ghost sense left his lungs.

“Hiding, are we?” a sultry sweet voice said, stepping out from the portal.

Despite the burning in his chest, Danny whipped into a snarling defensive stance without a flinch.

Plasmius’ eyes swept over him, his lips curling into a signature smirk. “Or are you ever planning on leaving this dreadful place?”

Danny wanted to snap at Vlad, tell him to shut the hell up and get out. But his mind was moving a hundred miles a minute and all he could blurt out was, “How did you know?”

“You’re going to have to be slightly more specific, Little Badger,” Plasmius purred.

“How did you know I was here? Do—do my parents know?”

“Your parents seem to be rather…occupied at the moment, dear.” Plasmius tutted, then made a grandiose show of floating over to one of Lancer’s many bookcases and leafing through the titles.

Danny's hands dropped to his side and curled into a fist. He so badly yearned to punch Vlad in his stupid, ugly face, but he resisted.

“Their poor son was so viciously killed by a ghost who then took his place, you see. How dreadful! What a horrible, horrible creature that ghost must be, hmm?”

His fists tightened. “Shut up, Vlad. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Vlad turned back to face Danny, his expression morphing into faux sympathy that melted back into amusement a second later. “But I haven’t even gotten to the good part, where they strapped that horrible ghost down to a table and—”

The blast left Danny’s hand before he could stop himself.

Fortunately, Vlad had the reaction time to absorb it with a shield before it could scorch any of Lancer’s books. 

“Careful! We wouldn’t want to hurt this gracious teacher’s home, not after he’s been so kind to nurse you back to health! After all, what do you think the man would do if you dared hurt his…” Vlad plucked a book out of the shelf. “His signed copy of The Kite Runner! Daniel, you savage creature!”

“Shut UP!” Ice crawled up his sleeve. “If you just came here to be a dick, then you can fucking leave already. You have no idea what happened, so just fuck off, Plamius.”

“Oh Daniel, I may not have been there, but it doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to know how dear Maddie and that bumbling idiot ended up in the emergency room. Nor you, actually. How’s the chest?”

Rage shook through his body, and on instinct, he hugged his arms into his torso. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Oh trust me, my dear boy, I know everything.” Vlad gave him a scalding grin before turning back to the bookshelf. “My, my! This is certainly an impressive collection. An original printing of Crime and Punishment? That’s quite impressive indeed.”

“Did you really just come here to make fun of me?”

“No, though that’s always such a delectable treat. No wonder Miss Spectra loves you so much.”

A wave of nausea rolled over Danny, and he shrunk in on himself. “Stop feeding off me, you creep.”

Vlad snapped the book shut. “Then stop being such a blaring beacon of a restless spirit, child. Do you even understand how easy it was to find you? I’ve known you’ve been here for days now.”

“Because you’re a fucking creep who tracks me!”

“I was hardly trying! You, on the other hand, obviously have no regard for your own personal safety, even after that little stunt you pulled in your parents’ lab. Sending them both to the hospital with third-degree burns might have been a bit excessive if I do say so myself. Well, for Maddie, anyway. The oaf can burn in hell for all I care.”

“Shut up, they’re my parents!”

“Were your parents. They stopped being your parents the moment you stupidly revealed yourself to them.”

“You have to be a total moron if you think even for a second that I was trying to reveal myself to them on purpose!” Danny bit back. He raised a glowing fist, and a part of him deep inside that he loathed cheered at how much light was emitting from the concentrated ball of ectoplasm. “Besides, what I do is none of your fucking business.”

Vlad responded in kind, leaving the bookshelf to float high above Danny’s head. He flashed his fangs and heightened his own aura. “On the contrary, my dear boy, the reveal was as much of a threat to your own safety as it was to mine. Even if they don’t know that half ghosts exist, they’ve connected the dots between your portal accident and the disgusting creature that you’ve become. Now they know that ghosts can fully disguise themselves as regular humans. It’s only a matter of time before they start snooping around me.”

“Then that sounds like your fucking problem.”

“And what of you, then? Your core acted in self-defense, decimating your lab and turning the rest of your home to rubble. Have you even seen what’s left of your parents’ greatest creations?”

The light in his fist sputtered out.

Vlad hovered closer to Danny, and his smile widened. “It’s all gone, thanks to you.”

Guilt clawed through his stomach. “I didn’t mean to hurt them.”

“Too little too late, I’m afraid. Though thankfully, Maddie looks just as radiant as always, even with the scarring on her forehead.”

“I fucked up.” Danny lowered his feet to the ground and pulled at his hair with his gloves. At once, everything he’d been holding in for the past two weeks came splitting to the surface. “I can’t—I fucked up, Vlad. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Please, you have to understand, they caught me by surprise. I didn’t see them waiting in my room when I detransformed after patrol. I had—I had no idea.”

Danny remembered the sickening inhale of breath from his mother. He remembered turning around, he remembered seeing their horrified faces.

He remembered his mother whispering, “Danny?”

He remembered the flash of light that followed.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. “I never wanted this to happen.”

“Well, it did.” Vlad’s tone shifted to one uncharacteristically soft. “Jasmine is worried about you.”

“Jazz?” Danny croaked.

“She was staying with me in my mansion. Her parents and I felt it was the best arrangement until she was able to return to them.”

Her parents, echoed in Danny’s mind. Her parents, not your parents. Her parents.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s unharmed if that’s what you mean. But she’s worried. About you, Little Badger.”

Danny jerked his head away. “Well, tell her I’m fine.”

“Ah yes, because I’m sure a simple ‘Danny says he’s fine’ from me will really do so much to ease her worries.”

“Shut up,” Danny said, but the fight had already left his voice. Though he refused to look, Danny could feel Plasmius slowly creeping toward him. His aura crackled in warning, but he knew his efforts were futile.

“Daniel, come home with me.” 

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an order. It was a simple statement of fact.

Still, old habits died hard. Danny couldn’t help the reflexive growl and the “no” that escaped his lips.

A hand fell heavily onto his shoulder.

Plasmius’ hand. But for once, it didn’t claw into him. 

“Come with me.”

“I’ll never do that. You know I’ll never do that.”

“Please, child. You’re not safe here.”

“I can protect myself just fine.”

Vlad scoffed, and Danny couldn’t blame him. The bandages on his chest suddenly felt tight, and he was all too aware of how feeble his stance was, how his shoulders curled in to offset the pain of the wound on his chest. 

“You know that’s not true. Especially now that dear Maddie knows who you are. You think you’re safe here? With a high school literature teacher?” A stream of snark began returning in Vlad’s tone, and he pulled his hand off Danny’s shoulder, brandishing it high like an overzealous quill ready to strike the paper with all its theatrical might. “Because when Maddie returns with her bazooka, I’m sure all these books will provide such an excellent shield!

“I don’t care, I’m not going with you.”

“Yes, you are, Daniel, because you never think. And that’s your greatest downfall.”

Danny whipped around. “I am thinking! I—I’m finally happy. I’m with someone who likes Phantom. I can protect us from my parents. They got me because I was surprised, but they won’t get me again.”

Vlad simply tilted back his head and laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. And let’s actually think this through for once, hmm? Because I doubt dear Lancer truly wants a ghost permanently haunting his guest bedroom.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Oh, I think I know more than most. Tell me, child, do you truly think that your high school teacher wants you here? Last I checked, you were failing his class. What is your plan, just hide out as Phantom forever? What do you think will happen if you accidentally slip back into human form in front of him? Your own parents didn’t accept you, what makes you think he will?”

“Because…because…” Danny tried, but he could feel his own voice failing.

Because Vlad was right. His parents didn’t accept him, they tried to kill him in the most brutal way possible. There was no way a virtual stranger by comparison would accept him when his own flesh and blood hadn’t.

“That’s right, child. He won’t. Being both dead and alive is an abomination, a taboo of science. Normal humans can’t wrap their heads around it. So of course, he won’t be able to accept you; he won’t be able to truly care about you.”

Tears pricked behind his eyes.

“Just come with me. You can’t stay here, you know this. I’m the only one who truly understands, child.”

Danny hung his head, whispering, “Okay.”

Because what other choice did he have? 

A heavy hand fell onto his shoulder, and he looked up to see the faux compassion in Vlad’s face overshadowed by his smug grin. But he didn’t have it in him to be angry at seeing Vlad so triumphant. He didn’t care anymore.

He had no one left. His parents wanted him dead, his sister was too young to do anything about it, and he couldn’t hide forever with his English teacher who definitely hated his human half’s guts.

“Good boy,” Vlad said. He raised a hand, and another portal was created. “After you, my child.”

Danny took a shuddering breath and looked around the cozy room with its high bookshelves one last time. He tried to find Poe—just to say goodbye—but the cat was nowhere to be seen.

Not that Danny blamed him for hiding.

His bottom lip trembled and his hands shook, but still, he stepped forward.

The swirling mass of green accepted him, and then he was gone.

— — —

<prev / next>

[capricores]

ommmmmg long time no see hi guys!!! 🥺💕 i hope you’ve all been doing amazing and staying healthy!! i’m so sorry for the extremely long break without warning! but i am so excited to be back!! i probably won’t be immensely active because i am very busy with work + my bf and i are moving houses again, but i’ll try my best :’)

things i’m currently slowly working on for this blog:

revamping my desktop & mobile themes for easier browsing 

changing my navigation section & creating a master list of all original posts: going through my whole blog and retagging old posts super specifically so you guys can browse more easily

i’m going to try to answer asks & start writing new posts asap!!!

going to start up a youtube channel for astrology & tarot soon!!!! 

planning on making a happy healthy lil discord server where we can nerd out about astrology, tarot, crystals and anything relating to spirituality, personal growth, etc!!

free tarot pulls coming soon, stay tuned for that !!!!!! i got two new decks (archangel animals + karma cards) and i wanna put them to good use :) i’m actually in love with them and have been doing some super accurate readings with them so i can’t wait to try them here!

as for readings i’m still taking a big halt, sorry about that!! i’m hoping to accept readings in a new format in the future, but it probably won’t be for another two months or more!

oh also!! little update!! got my official birthtime from the hospital i was born at finally, and i am in fact a pisces rising :’’’) also might post some pics of the new decks & crystals i’ve bought because i love them too much (also have discovered my all time fav crystal, howlite.... my lifesaver!!!!)

[meowdarame]

“𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭?”

pairings: tooru oikawa x f!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

synopsis: hectic is an understatement for oikawa’s schedule— it’s not easy being a pro-athlete. and because of the chaos of his daily life, he foolishly forgets to buy you a birthday present. all is doomed until he realizes that he has the perfect present tucked away in his gym shorts. (inspired by a line in the song “birthday sex” by jeremih)

warnings: NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI; oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if there’s anything that i missed!

word count: 2.8k

notes: part of my birth month event, for she’s a jolly good fellow! also this was my first work that was NOT beta-read, so i apologize if it’s a little rough! as always, hope you enjoy and likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

special tag: @bxnten BECAUSE I’M DUMB AND DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT CAT MEANT TO TAG HER IN MY STUFF 😭

Only two thoughts cross Oikawa’s mind after a Friday afternoon practice: 1) What fucking day is it again? and 2) Shit, I’m totally screwed.

To say that his schedule is “hectic” would be a drastic understatement. Between grueling early morning and late afternoon volleyball practices and exhausting photoshoots for his sponsorships and brand deals, the pretty setter barely even has time to think to himself. He wakes up just as tired as he was when he went to bed, and this pattern continues through all seven days of the week, all fifty-two weeks of the year. Soon, his days begin to blend together, nearly indistinguishable from one another. If his life were a painter’s palette, the only color that would be visible on it would be a drab shade of brown.

Even then, when the common man would most likely crumble and fold under this intense pressure, the “Great King” Tooru Oikawa overcomes and conquers. It comes as no surprise to anyone that he’s able to keep up with his daily activities, entrusting his day-to-day routine in the hands of the beloved calendar app on his phone. But it’s this same app that stupidly forgot to remind him a week prior to today that this Friday was your birthday— or perhaps it did alert him, but the notification was just buried under a sea of work emails and Instagram comments from his adoring fans. Honestly, who knows?

All he knows is that right now, as he flies down the Argentinian highways and races home, Oikawa feels more like a court jester than he does an honorable member of royalty.

The heavy wooden door of your home slams shut with a loud thud. After tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter, he checks the time on his watch and exhales a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you should still be at work for another hour, which buys him just enough time to figure out a gift. He plops down onto the couch and begins brainstorming potential presents for you, his wife of three years.

But then, he comes to a horrible realization— he has absolutely no idea what you could possibly even want.

He scours every crevice in his mind, replaying conversations with you in high-definition. What about that upscale winery she mentioned to me in passing that one time? That would be a nice dinner date!  He thinks to himself. No, it’s too late to make a reservation for tonight. The earliest I’ll probably be able to book a visit will be next month. Ruffling his wavy brown locks in frustration, he continues his mental search.

Lingerie? No, he bought you that for your anniversary last month. New shoes? Your front door already looks like a department store with how many heels and sneakers you have. Jewelry? There’s no way he would be able to go to the jewelers right now and make it back in time before you arrive at home.

Oikawa thinks he’s ran out of options until he remembers how warm your body felt pressed up against his earlier this morning, with the flesh of your ass indiscreetly rubbing against his morning wood. You had begged for him to stay home and skip practice to spend the day with you, insisting that you could call in a sick day at work. When he asked for the reasoning behind your forthright demeanor, you cryptically explained that it was “just a special day” that you wanted to enjoy with him. At the time, your words flew right over his head, but now Oikawa realizes that he’s no better than the other daft men who are terrible at reading women.

But this memory sparks an idea in Oikawa’s stressed out mind, and he shoots up out of his seat and turns over the entire apartment in search of silky red ribbon and sewing scissors.

…

The first thing that you notice when you come home from work is that all of the contents in your storage closet are splayed out on your dinner table. Figuring that it’s the work of your charming (yet sometimes idiotic) husband Tooru, you huff out a sigh and call out for him.

“Tooru?” After a few seconds of prolonged silence, you hear his saccharine voice echo from the hallway.

“In here, sweetheart!”

You follow the sound of rustling and shuffling, assuming that Oikawa is the culprit behind the rowdy noise. Turning the corner to the entrance of your bedroom, you expect to see your husband either moving furniture or folding laundry.

But what you didn’t expect to see is Oikawa’s naked body posed on top of a bed of rose petals, a beautiful bright red ribbon wrapped in a bow around his fully-erect dick.

Your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. “Tooru, what the fuck is all this?” You half giggle, half scoff, your hands gesturing to the scene before you.

“It’s your gift, baby! Happy birthday!” He cheers, enthusiastically throwing his arms up into the air in triumph. “Do you like it?”

“I mean, yes, I-I guess,” you sputter out as a whirlwind of thoughts flies through your bewildered mind. “It’s very thoughtful, honey, but who’s gonna clean this mess up?”

“I will! Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a single thing.” Oikawa races to you in the doorway, grabbing your wrist and quickly dragging you to the edge of the bed. You both sit down, the mattress dipping with the added weight, and your fingers delicately run over his palm, tracing the outline of what feels like a Band-Aid.

“I accidentally scraped my hand on a thorn when I was picking petals from our rose bush outside,” he sheepishly admits, a cute rosy tint adorning his cheekbones in slight embarrassment. It’s adorable that despite being in his late-20s, he’s still as accident prone as he was when you first met him at 18. Lifting his hand to your lips, you press a soft kiss against his skin, and his shoulder muscles relax at the tenderness.

“Thank you, Tooru. This was very sweet of you,” you murmur with his balled-up fist pressed against your cheek. 

“Of course. Anything for you, darling,” he whispers, a small smile creeping up on his pink lips.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself and smile back at him. Your eyes interlock for a brief moment, but then yours begin to wander down his slender neck to his chiseled abs. They come to a full stop at his crotch, drinking in his pretty cock that stands tall and proud against his stomach, resting only a centimeter below his belly button. The silky ribbon is tied in a perfectly-even bow around the base of his shaft, and the red color accentuates the reddish-purplish shade of his tip. Precum already leaks out of his sensitive slit— you assume that he had been pleasuring himself for quite some time before you returned home. And given that he’s still hard as a brick after not touching himself for a few minutes, you can only imagine how turned on he must be right now.

“So,” you murmur in a low, seductive voice. “Is this my gift?” You accentuate your words by swiping your thumb over his slit, spreading a dribble of his precum over his head and eliciting a shudder from your husband. You run your fingertips up and down his shaft, ghosting over his tan skin; you tug on one of the loose ends of the bow and undo it. The ribbon slides down his legs, landing crumpled into a ball on the floor. 

“Yes,” he breathes out after regaining some composure. “It is. You can do whatever you want with it.” He shoots his signature devilish smirk at you, but to his surprise, you’re unphased.

“I can do whatever I want with it?” You ask incredulously. “Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, baby.” Standing up from your seat, you begin removing your work clothes one-by-one, teasing Oikawa and making him lick his lips in anticipation. After a minute of slowly stripping, you stand before him completely nude, and your husband looks like he has stars in his eyes.

“You must be out of your mind if you think that I’m going to work for my birthday gift.”

He tilts his head at you in confusion, but you quickly explain what you mean by lying down on the center of the bed.

“If anything, I think that my gift should be pleasing me on my special day. Don’t you agree, Tooru?”

His smirk is plastered on his face once again, and he crawls his way over to you. “What?” He growls. “You want me to fuck you ‘til you can’t even think, princess?” His arms cage both sides of your legs, slowly creeping his way up your torso to be face to face with you. “Want me to make you cum and cream all over my cock, hm?” His muscular body is about halfway on top of yours when you place your foot firmly on his shoulder, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Mmm, yes, but maybe later,” you cheekily reply, pushing his face down to your bare cunt. “But first, why don’t you use that talented tongue of yours for something instead of running your mouth, huh?”

He chuckles. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, brat,” is all he says before diving his head in between the plush of your thighs, the flat muscle licking a solid stripe up your wet folds. 

Oikawa wastes no time— his lips immediately latch onto your clit, suckling on the swollen bud while his tongue swipes the nub back and forth. A string of expletives gets caught in your throat when his movements pick up in pace, causing your needy hole to clench around nothing. Weaving your fingers into his brown locks, you pant and beg for more.

“Tooru,” you airily breathe out. “Want your fingers, please.”

He smirks against your pussy, and it’s clear that your desperation went into his ears and shot straight to his ego. On any other day, he’d want you to be a sobbing, drooling mess before he caved in to your pleas, but since today is your special day, he obliges your request. His fingertips collect some of your slick before three digits plunge into the fluttering walls of your cunt.

A shrill cry resounds off the walls of your bedroom. Your legs kick out, your body actively trying to run away from Oikawa’s hand, but his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and hold you in place. “You can take it,” he asserts, mumbling into your pussy. His deep brown eyes stare into yours hungrily. The pads of his digits massage the gummy spot on the topside of your walls, and the stimulation makes your vision go white. “Cum on my tongue, princess. Make me proud.”

His encouragement pushes you over the edge. Your walls clench around his fingers, nearly pushing them out entirely. Oikawa laps up the juices that ooze out of your cunt, letting the sweet taste of your orgasm dance on his taste buds. He lets you ride out your high until he feels your tense muscles begin to relax, and his lips detach from your oversensitive clit; quickly popping his digits into his mouth, he licks and cleans the appendages off.

“Well that was fast. I think we just set a new record, babe,” he teases, stroking his cock with saliva-coated fingers. “Why don’t we celebrate by painting your beautiful body with my cum, hm?”

Your fingers fervidly wrap around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, shutting him up. Your tongues clash, and your teeth nibble at his bottom lip, eliciting the prettiest and most pathetic whines from him. You pull away, chest heaving and out of breath.

“Just fucking do it already,” you pant.

Oikawa plants one more quick kiss on your lips before readjusting your bodies. His arms cage both sides of your head, and you wrap your legs around his slim waist; hand snaking in between your warm bodies, you run his tip up and down your folds to collect your slick and line his head up with your fluttering hole. He’s about to thrust into you, but before he can, you squeeze your legs and pull his body flush against yours, bottoming him out in one solid, swift motion.

“Fuck!” You both moan at the same time. Oikawa nestles his head into your neck, and his hot, shaky breath tickles the baby hairs on your skin. You feel his drool pooling on your collarbone, and you realize that his mouth is agape— he’s barely started but he’s already too pussydrunk to even keep his mouth closed.

“Already close, baby? I thought you wanted to fuck me ‘til I can’t even think,” you taunt him, but your mockery is soon cut off when he reels his hips back and sends them crashing forward into the back of your thighs.

Lewd squelching noises fill the room. Moans rumble from both of your chests, but none of what you’re saying is coherent— both of you already reduced down to babbling messes, too engrossed in pleasure to even form a single sentence. With every roll of his hips, Oikawa hits your sweet spot, sending waves of euphoric pleasure up and down your spine. His movements pick up in pace, becoming more frantic and sloppier, now deliciously kissing your cervix with each thrust; it causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head and your toes to curl.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tug his head back and pull his face out of the nook in your neck. His lips crash against yours, muffling the sounds of his needy whimpers against your mouth. 

“Tooru, you feel so good, baby. I fucking love you,” you moan when one particular thrust sends your body jolting upwards on the bed.

“I love you more,” he whines. Sweat beads around his temples, and his fluffy brown hair sticks to his forehead. His body is hot to the touch, and his strokes become messier.  “Fuck, I’m close. Where do you want your gift, princess?”

“Inside,” you practically cry out. “Fill me up, please!”

“A-Are you sure?” He stutters, unsure if he heard you correctly.

Your next movements don’t give him any choice— your ankles interlock behind Oikawa’s back, trapping him in place as he spills his seed inside of your velvety walls. Feeling the immense warmth inside of you, your back arches off of the bed, your perked nipples brushing gently against his glistening, sweaty skin. He lets your pussy milk him dry before he pulls out, your legs still tightly tangled behind his back.

His softening cock plops onto your belly. “Babe, you know you could let go of me now, right?” He jokes, littering your face with fluttering kisses all over your face.

“I know,” you whisper dreamily. “Just wanna keep you close, that’s all.”

He chuckles, planting one last kiss on your forehead before rolling over and lying down beside you. You scooch your body so that your head lies on his chest, tracing heart shapes on his broad chest and tickling his skin.

“So, did your gift live up to your expectations?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow and lifting his head up to look down at you.

You giggle and look up at him. With a bright smile spread across your face, you respond, “It exceeded my expectations, Tooru.”

“Good, good,” he hums, throwing his head back onto the pillow. He shuts his eyes and, to his stupidity, he foolishly thinks out loud. “Can’t believe it worked! And to think that I planned this whole thing today!”

“What?”

His eyes shoot wide open and he looks down at you once again. Your brows are furrowed and you scrunch your nose at him. You consider hailing an onslaught of insults at him, but ultimately you decide against it.

“Even though you may have forgotten my birthday, I’ll let it slide. For a gift that you planned and executed in 12 hours, you really outdid yourself.” 

You laugh in your head. Twelve hours is a gracious estimation. The truth is that from the moment you stepped into the foyer of your home, you knew that he had forgotten about your birthday and was scrambling to find a present for you. And from the way that your house had looked like it was literally ransacked when you arrived, you could tell that he had only remembered an hour before you returned home.

You know his dirty little secret, but you figure that you’ll let it slide. His gift was pretty good, after all.

taglist: @sabyss @petalsrdead @miya-dynasty @ohtobiors @frenchtoastmafia @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaotic-fangirl-blog @semisgroupie @dessceased @sunat2508 @rueren @rinsie @portfolio-of-dreams @crystal-lilac @21-06-1996 @sweeneyblue1 +++ @lunaevangeline my resident oikawa simp hehe <3

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Five)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Mild Sexual References

Words: 1,848

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

YOUR POV

Two weeks had passed since you visited your friend Denise in Dublin and it was time for the annual Galway Arts Festival.

Denise had been working on a photography project for the past year and had been nominated for a student award in Galway as part of which ten of her photographs were being displayed during the Arts Festival.

Whilst, as you had expected, Cillian didn’t contact you, you knew that he would be there to support his daughter. Being an artist himself, he was very proud of her and her work and he supported her projects not only mentally but also financially with the caveat that she would finish her degree at Trinity College.

Unlike him, he didn’t want her to drop out of university even though she hated it and you certainly understood his reasoning.

Contrary to Denise, you had no creative bone in your body. You enjoyed art and theatre, but weren’t an artist or performer yourself. Instead, you were an A Grade Law Student who had become rather bored in Galway and had recently applied for a scholarship to Oxford University.

Reading was your passion and you had always been known as a geek. In school, you were the girl that no one liked, nerdy, not interested in fashion or social media and wearing braces, which, luckily, had been removed three years ago.

You were shy and it was only for Denise that you came out of your shell. She was popular in school, mostly due to her name, but also because she was generally confident and, over the years, she helped you gain confidence especially after you had left high school.

But, today, you knew you would be questioning your gained confidence once again since, first of all, you would be seeing Cillian again and the truth was that you couldn’t stop thinking about him in an intimate way and, secondly, you were featured completely naked on some of Denise’s photographs.

Whilst the photographs were artistic and not sexual in any way and your most intimate part wasn’t visible on them, it bothered you knowing that people you disliked would see you so vulnerable and you couldn’t remember why you had agreed to being photographed like that.

The other woman who Denise chose to photograph was Amalie. She was 23 and had been Denise’s friend for a while as well but, unlike you, she began modelling professionally when she was just 16. You all went to the same private school together and, clearly, her lifestyle had been largely financed by her parents. She always wore expensive clothes and had no interest in pursuing a career other than modelling, which barely sustained her lifestyle considering the few small jobs she got.

***

Just as you served your last cup of coffee to an elderly lady sitting in the corner of the café you were working at, you saw Denise, Amalie and two other friends of Denise walk in.

‘Hey guys, take a seat. I will be right with you. I am just about to finish my shift’ you said as you hung up your apron.

‘Please tell me you will get changed before the Gallery opening tonight?’ Amalie asked somewhat weirdly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you sat down at the table with her, Denise and the others before ordering some coffees for yourselves.

‘No, I thought I would go like this’ you said sarcastically, looking down at your coffee-stained clothes.

‘I bought a dress for tonight’ you then said, after Amalie didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm.

‘Right’ she then said as she flicked through Instagram and you simply looked at Denise who shrug her shoulders.

‘What are you looking for?’ you asked curiously as her eyes seemed to be glued to her phone.

‘She is looking to find more photos of my dad and Laura Jennings’ Denise said, rolling her eyes.

‘Laura Jennings, as in the actress?’ you asked, causing Amalie to nod.

‘Yes, apparently they have been dating’ Amalie then confirmed, causing you to swallow harshly. You knew that you shouldn’t care but you couldn’t help it. Knowing that Cillian was seeing someone made you feel ill.  

‘And you care about that why?’ you then asked Amalie after an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine.

‘Apparently, just like you, Amalie thinks my dad is a DILF’ Denise huffed out before telling you how disgusting you all were.

‘Well, he is though…he is super hot’ Amalie then joked before carrying on. ‘And I don’t understand how you don’t know about Laura Jennings and whether this is true or not. You need to find out’ Amalie then said but Denise simply shook her head.

‘My father doesn’t share this sort of stuff with me and I certainly don’t want to know about his sex life, thank you very much. In so far as I am concerned, he doesn’t have sex, ever…yuck! Also, I would appreciate if you could not talk about my dad anymore, please. It grosses me out’ Denise said and you knew that, all of this had become a common occurrence ever since the day the first episode of Peaky Blinders aired on BBC, a show which Denise refuses to watch herself because of the heavy sexual content and a show which you, only a week ago, had begun to binge watch.

Cillian’s POV

When Cillian walked into the basement after you had left, he immediately saw the small folded up note you had left him but, reading it, made him somewhat uncomfortable.

He was torn about what to do with it and certainly knew that he should ignore it. He couldn’t see you again even if he wanted to.

The fact that you were 23 years younger than him and that you were his daughter’s best friend made it all wrong and highly inappropriate and he didn’t know what had gotten into him in the first place when he gave into you.

He had never felt attracted towards you in any sort of way until that last visit which was the first time had seen you since you and your family had moved away.

You changed in many ways and he wasn’t sure what it was that he liked about you. But what he knew was that it was more than just sexual attraction, which was usually something he knew how to supress.

With that in mind, he placed your note into his wallet and decided to ignore it for now. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw it out.

***

With his bags packed it was time for him to return to Manchester and resume filming of the final season of Peaky Blinders.

The first week of filming went well and Cillian decided to spend the weekend with his friend, fellow actress Laura Jennings. Cillian and her had developed a friend with benefits sort of relationship. No strings attached and no feelings involved. After his divorce from Denise’s mother, he wasn’t ready for anything else and Laura would certainly not have been the type of woman he would have wanted a relationship with in the first place.

Unlike him, she wasn’t press shy and, whilst they kept their arrangement a secret as best as they could, she was otherwise quite active on social media.

Cillian, on the other hand, only maintained a private Instagram account with the sole purpose of being able to check on his children. Whilst they were adults, he was still worried about them, especially Denise who had recently gotten herself in a lot of trouble after distancing herself from this Jeremy boy.

***

‘Another wine?’ Laura asked as Cillian was relaxing on top of the doonas, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs, after they had spent the last hour doing exactly what friends with benefits would do after not having seen each other for over two weeks due to busy filming schedules.

‘Yes please…thanks’ he responded as he reached for his phone after a notification had popped up.

It was his daughter Denise who had posted on Instagram and, since she hadn’t posted for a while, he decided to check it out, hoping that she wasn’t with Jeremy again.

To his surprise, three new pictures of Denise and her friends showed up when he opened the APP and, one of them, there was you.

In the picture, you were wearing accompanied by a man in his late twenties, wearing a suit while you were wearing a dark blue dress and he couldn’t help but wonder who the man by your side was.

You looked simply stunning, with your hair long and open and your shoulders exposed. You were wearing only a little bit of make up and showed your beautiful smile.  

‘There you go Mr Murphy’ Laura then said as she returned to the bedroom with another glass of wine, pulling Cillian’s phone out of his hand and climbing on top of him.

‘Round Two?’ she then asked eagerly as she reached for another condom, but Cillian’s thoughts were elsewhere entirely.

‘Maybe tomorrow, I am tired. It has been a long week, sorry’ he explained, causing Laura to pout with disappointment.

But the second round never eventuated as Cillian left Laura’s house the following morning to drive back to Manchester to resume filming.

On his way back to Manchester, he called his daughter Denise to check on her and while he did, he enquired about your companion on the Instagram posts.

‘Why do you want to know?’ Denise asked somewhat confused but Cillian played it cool.

‘He looks familiar, that’s all. Didn’t he go to your school?’ he then asked, playing dumb.

‘Oh god no, he is 29. His name is Connor and he is an accountant. Y/N wouldn’t date anyone our age. You know she isn’t a normal 21-year-old’ Denise joked, referring to your nerdiness and intellect.

‘Apparently not’ Cillian chuckled before asking another question about the stranger on the picture. ‘So, they are dating?’ he asked.

‘I think they went on two or three dates or something. Why do you care?’ Denise asked.

‘No reason. I was just wondering’ Cillian confirmed before changing the topic.

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[bopbopstyles]

CROWDED PLACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, cursing, some handcuffs)

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

CATEGORIES: roommate!harry, bi!y/n

MASTERLIST |  TALK TO ME | REST OF THE BIFICATHON

a/n: here is my entry for @harrysclementines​​ and i’s bificathon (view them all here)!!!!!! i had prompts 18 and 19 (”Y/N brings home girls and guys (roommate!harry)” and “Harry asks her about the differences in sex between guys and girls”) and here’s what happened. as a bi person i had SUCH a fun time writing this, and i hope you enjoy. named for the BANKS song of the same name. xoxo, love u all my bi angels!

“Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and you stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

“H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

or

Y/N is bi, Harry’s her roommate and curious

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry found out you were bi by walking into your shared kitchen and finding a girl struggling to figure out your shared intricate coffee maker dressed in your clothes, her hair tangled around her shoulders.

“Need help?” He asked, walking toward the stranger in his kitchen.

The girl’s head bounced up at the sound of his voice and sighed. “Fuck, you scared me. Uh, yeah, thanks. I was trying to make coffee for Y/N but…”

He chuckled to himself and nodded for the girl to move to the side. “Nice of you.”

“I’m Emily, by the way,” the girl told him. “You’re Harry, right? Y/N mentioned she had a roommate last night.”

Harry flicked some buttons on the machine, fiddled with the coffee filter, and then the machine whirred to life. “Yeah, I’m Harry. Y/N mentioned she was going to some club last night—that where you two met?”

The girl nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah.”

Harry paused, not really knowing what else to say over the sound of the coffee dropping into the cup situated below the spout. He had come in for some breakfast and coffee, but he didn’t really want to make small talk with your hookup of the week, if he was being honest. So he decided to table coffee, and instead grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet and the milk from the fridge and made himself some cereal.

“Nice meeting you,” he said to the girl before turning around and heading back to his room.

“Bye,” Emily replied and with that he left the kitchen, beelining for the safety of his own space.

Settling down into his bed, he thought about the girl in his kitchen and you, obviously still tucked into your bed. You two had never really had the conversation about your sexualities—you’d become roommates last year through an advertisement you placed on Craigslist and had spent most of the year just figuring one another out and becoming friends. The topic had never really come up and he had just assumed—wrongly, apparently—that you were straight, since he only really saw you with guys. Although, to be fair, there were nights that you didn’t come home and he didn’t know where you ended up on those nights.

He didn’t care in the slightest, just intrigued by this new piece of information he had discovered. He was curious, if he was being honest, but he didn’t really know if it was his place to ask you about it. Was that rude? He didn’t really know. He’d never just…found out about his friends’ sexuality like this, usually they told him outright at some point, so he was in uncharted territory.

Perhaps he’d just let you bring it up. Or he’d mention that he had met Emily in the kitchen, and see where the conversation went. He settled on the latter, deciding that would open the discussion up but not be too aggressive. More than anything, he wanted you to feel comfortable talking to him about these kinds of things, and also know that he didn’t mind who you brought home or dated.

So, he settled into his pillows and turned on Netflix, starting up a crime documentary he hadn’t seen yet, and ate his cereal.

When he resurfaced two hours later, you were in the kitchen with a skillet of eggs cooking, scrolling through something on your phone and sipping on a cup of coffee. You greeted him with a quiet “good morning” and he responded with the same, before going to the sink to rinse out his bowl and place it in the dishwasher next to him. Then he grabbed himself a cup of coffee, adding a dash of milk, and settled in at the breakfast bar.

“So,” he said, making you turn and look at him. “I met Emily this morning.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but then you nodded. “She told me. Said you helped her with the coffee maker.”

“I did.” He took a sip of his coffee and paused, unsure of what to say next. “She seemed nice.”

You stood up and fully turned so you were facing him, your phone forgotten on the counter. “Yeah, she is.”

“Are you going to see her again?”

You seemed a bit shocked by the question, but shook your head. “I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

There was the confirmation he’d been seeking—that Emily had in fact been a hook up. “So all the people you’ve brought back…?”

“Are just some fun,” you finished. “Where’s this all coming from? We don’t usually talk about this stuff.”

“I was just trying to figure out if I needed to prepare to have another roommate,” he quipped, and you snorted before turning back around to where your eggs were sizzling in the pan.

“What about you?” You asked him, using the spatula next to the stove to lift the eggs out of the pan and placed them on a light blue glazed plate, one of the ones you’d bought when you moved in and adored. Harry was banned from using them, relegated to the white porcelain ones he’d purchased.

“Sorry?”

You grabbed the salt and pepper and sprinkled a bit on your eggs, then grabbed your slices of toast from the toaster where they were waiting. “Are you looking to date right now?”

He hadn’t been expecting you to throw the question back at him, but he figured you had every right to. He’d asked you, why not share himself? “I mean, if I met the right person I would be. But I’m not like, actively seeking a relationship.”

With a set of silverware in one hand and your plate in the other, you walked towards him, setting your food on the counter on the other side of the bar so you could face him as you ate. For some reason, you loved to eat standing up  and it had never made sense to him. “So you’re not on dating apps and all that? Hinge and that shit?”

He shook his head as you swiveled to grab the jam from the fridge and began to spread it on your toast. “I can never figure out how to talk to people on them. They’re just so awkward.”

You nodded in agreement before taking a bite of your toast. “Meeting people in person is way better. I tried one once and it was so unpleasant. Felt like so much work, you know? Like finding someone shouldn’t feel like a part-time job.”

He chuckled to himself at your observation. “Right? I’d rather just meet someone through friends or something and talk to them, be able to figure out in person if there’s something there.”

“One time I’d been talking to this girl on Bumble for two weeks, we met up, and I immediately was like, ‘fuck I have no sexual interest in her.’ You know? Like there was no chemistry. We would’ve been great friends, but the other stuff? Nada.” You always talked with your hands and even did in this moment, you slice of toast in one hand and a fork in the other.

“What’d you tell her?” He asked, taking another sip of his coffee as you took a bite of egg.

“The truth,” you said, covering your mouth as you spoke and chewed at the same time. He loved how comfortable you two had become with each other, the natural result of sharing an 800-square foot apartment with another person. “And then she texted me like a month later saying she thought ‘We had really good energy’ and wanted to see if I was interested. So I had to tell her again that I wasn’t interested.”

“Shit,” he said. “That’s brutal.”

“Yep,” you replied, popping the p of the word as you took another bite of your breakfast. “So, what are you up to today?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

“I was planning to go to IKEA to look at a new bed frame and look at all the room set-ups—want to come with?”

It was one of your favorite shared activities, which you had discovered when he had moved in and needed to buy a whole host of new furniture. You’d tagged along since you knew the apartment better, and you’d ended up spending practically the whole day inside. Since then, it was your rainy day activity.

“What’s wrong with your current bed frame?”

You shrugged, picking up your toast and taking a final bite. “It creaks too much. I think it’s just old, so I want something different.”

Harry tried not to think about why your bed creaked so much, and instead told you he’d come with.

Harry was pushing you around IKEA and frankly you were having the time of your life. Just to piss him off you’d gotten into the cart, folding up your body and leaning against the front of the cart, and he’d just rolled his eyes at you and called you a child before rolling the cart towards the entrance to the store.

You had made it through the bathroom section without much incident, but when you had reached the living rooms you had decided that you simply had to try out all of the couches, even though neither of you needed to buy one. Together you developed a rating scale—firmness of cushions, bounce level, and ability to lay down comfortably. A couple ranked high on all three scales, but none just blew you away, so you jointly decided you definitely didn’t need to invest in another couch for no reason.

In the kitchen department, you both oohed and ahhed over countertops and backsplashes, pointing out appliances you desperately wanted. You tried to convince Harry that you really needed new bar stools, but he wasn’t swayed. However, he did relent and allow you to buy some new spatulas and other kitchen utensils after you told him they were replacements for the current ones, which were two years old at least.

Finally, you reached the beds. Bed after bed laid out in front of you, just waiting for you to try them out and see which one was both sturdy and sleek. You beelined for the first one, sitting down on the mattress and looking up at Harry, who was leaning on his elbows on the handlebar of the cart and watching you.

“Come test it out with me,” you said, patting the bed next to you. “I need to see how the weight of two people feels on it.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but he left the cart and moved towards you. He was dressed in one of his favorite sweatshirt, a black one he’d gotten in Tokyo at a DJ Harvey and Keb Darge party, and a pair of blue jeans with a frayed hem, and white Vans with the pink and blue laces you’d given him for his birthday threaded through each one of the shoes, a beanie covering his curls and his black sunglasses tucked into the neck of the sweatshirt. You adored Harry’s clothes, frequently stealing them which he found aggravating and you loved doing for that very reason.

He settled on to the bed next to you, his knee knocking against yours as he settled back on his hands. “So? Thoughts?”

His eyes flickered over to you. “Seems sturdy enough, but I hate the headboard.”

You turned to look at the headboard, which was just one long piece of skinny blond wood. Upon investigation, you also hated it. “Agreed. Next one!” You scampered over to the next one, which had a wrought iron headboard in black and you quite liked the look of it. The rest of your furniture was black and your duvet was a light blue, so it would fit in perfectly. “What do you think of this one?”

Harry moved to sit next to you and shrugged. “Seems good.”

“The headboard up to par for you?”

“I like it. You?”

You nodded and then looked at him, deadpanning, “You could hook handcuffs through it.”

Harry choked on air, before bursting into laughter at your comment. “Is that a priority for you? The ability to handcuff someone to your headboard?”

“Honestly, yeah. Otherwise what good is it?”

He bit back a smile, and then turned to look at the other beds around you. “Well on that basis, we can cut out most of the beds here. Ones like these are the best, nothing that’s wood.”

“Know from personal experience, do you?” Harry blushed and you poked his side. “Didn’t know you were so kinky, Styles.”

“Right back at you,” he replied. “So what other tests are involved in the purchase of a bed?”

“Well,” you began, pushing yourself higher on the bed. “Mine creaks a ton, so I need to know how much this one does.”

He glanced between you and the bed, and then the number of people around. “What’s your plan? Jump on the bed or something?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. Got a better idea?”

“You could like, try and push it forward and back?”

“Go for it.”

Harry stood up and walked to the head of the bed, grabbing onto the frame and pulled it forward and back—or tried to. The headboard didn’t budge and you watched with a quirked smile. “It’s not moving,” he mumbled. “Maybe that’s good? Means it’s strong and all that?”

For being two 26-year-olds, you realized, the two of you still didn’t know much about furniture. “Probably. But I still think we should do the jump test.”

“I am not jumping on that bed with you.”

“Harry…”

“No, Y/N, we’re in the middle of a store!”

You huffed out a breath. “Fine.” Then, you turned over and got up on your hands and knees and pushed all of your weight into the mattress and moved backward and forth, trying to see if it would creak or sway as you moved. You could feel Harry’s eyes on your form but you paid him no mind, your focus on the task at hand.

Harry, meanwhile, swallowed thickly as he watched you, the sway of your body sending thoughts he really shouldn’t have been having through his head. Did you realize what you were doing? The position you were in and what it made him think of? Probably not.

“I think this one’s actually pretty good,” you informed him, turning over and lying down on the mattress. “Should I get the mattress too? I’ve had mine for like five years. What’s the lifespan on a mattress?”

“Dunno,” Harry answered, leaning his arm against the wrought iron headboard. “Can you afford both?”

You groaned and sat up. “Why on earth did you have to bring up money? I was having so much fun until you got all responsible on me.”

“Hey, someone’s got to have some sense in our apartment.”

“And that someone is you?”

“You’re the one who wanted to jump on beds in the middle of IKEA on a Saturday, not me.”

You huffed out a sigh and pushed yourself off the bed, coming to standing. “Come on, let’s go look at desks.”

“So you’re getting this one?”

You nodded. “It’s the best one for the handcuffs, isn’t it?” He blushed and you walked ahead of him, letting him push the cart after you.

You spent the rest of Saturday deconstructing your old bed frame and building your new one with Harry’s help. It was definitely a two person job—screwing together the support pieces to the headboard and placing the slats properly, lifting your mattress onto your new bed. By the end of the whole process you were tired, hungry, and a bit cranky, but you had a new bed that you adored. Harry ordered you both pizza, and you opened a bottle of red wine once you’d finished your food, pouring you both a glass.

Harry was sitting on the couch, his sweatshirt long gone, in just his jeans and a black t-shirt stretched across his muscular upper body. In the year he’d lived with you, he’d gained a significant amount of muscle mass, transforming from the more ropey guy who moved in, into this man who looked like a fucking Greek God after a day in the sun. You carried over the wine, handing him his glass and setting the bottle on the table for refills that would definitely occur.

You picked up the remote, anticipating a night of re-watching each of your favorite trashy teen dramas from the early 2000s (yours was What a Girl Wants or the Lizzie McGuire Movie, depending on your mood) when Harry spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” you answered, taking a sip of your wine and opening the Netflix app on your TV.

“It might be a bit too personal, so if you don’t want to answer, just don’t—“

“Harry, just spit it out,” you said, cutting him off.

“What’s the difference in sex between guys and girls?” His question was rushed, but you made out every word and it made you choke on your wine a bit.

You set down your wine glass and turned to fully face him. “Like…generally?”

The blush that crept across his cheeks was endearing, obviously regretting the question once it was out of his mouth. “I don’t know. Fuck, forget I asked—“

“It’s fine,” you told him. You considered his question, mulling over the experiences you’d had with both sexes and comparing the two. To be honest, you didn’t spend much time comparing them because they were different in so many ways. “The most glaring thing,” you began, “is that sex with women can just keep on going until one of you like…can’t anymore. There’s no waiting or anything like there is with guys. So it means that it’s really intense for like a long period of time.”

He was listening intently, fingers tight around his wine glass as you spoke. To be frank, you couldn’t really believe you were having this conversation with Harry of all people. “I guess it’s also different because you don’t have penetration with girls—at least, not in the same way. I’ve never used a strap-on with anyone, just like oral and hands, so it means those things are more intense, in my opinion. Also, girls are really fucking good at oral—not that guys aren’t—but it’s just so good.”

“What makes them better?”

“Not better,” you said, “just different. Softer, in my opinion—like their fingers and hands are softer. And they also can figure out what you need faster, or maybe that’s just the people I’ve been with. There’s definitely something to be said for being a woman and knowing what other women need.”

If it wasn’t for the wine in his hand, Harry might not have had the courage to have this conversation. It had been sitting in the back of his mind for ages, before he even found out you were bi, but now that he knew you were you were one of the few people he could talk to about something like this. You were also one of the few people he trusted to have this conversation with and it to not become too awkward. He felt more comfortable around you than he did with most other people, that was for sure. He considered what you had said, mulling the words over in his head. Softer. He understood that—he loved the softness of women when they touched him, their longer fingernails and the kitten licks they spread over his body.

“Why do you ask?” You tucked your legs up, hooking your arm around your knees as you took another sip of your wine.

He chewed on his lip for a minute, rubbing his finger across the exterior of his glass. “I was just curious, I guess. I didn’t know you were bi until you brought Emily back, so I just started thinking about it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you told him. “I guess I didn’t even realize you didn’t know, to be honest. I don’t really feel the need to constantly be coming out to people, if that makes sense. Especially if I trust that they won’t care either way.”

“It does.” He shifted forward, taking another sip of his wine and mirroring your position. “And I don’t care either way, just so you know.”

You gave him a smile. “I appreciate that.” You fiddled with the hem of your pajama shorts, the old ratty blue ones from Target you’d had since college, before asking the question floating around in your head. “Now that you’ve asked me a sexual question, it’s my turn.” His eyebrows jumped, but he nodded his okay. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to try?”

“Are you asking me about my kinks?” He asked, a playful grin on his face, and your eyes fluttered down in embarrassment. “To be honest, I haven’t really tried all that much—haven’t been in that many relationships where I feel comfortable trying stuff out, you know?”

“You’ve obviously tried handcuffs,” you quipped, and he blushed.

“I haven’t, actually. Just…thought about it, I guess.”

“Well,” you said, the wine emboldening you, “you’re always welcome to try it with my bed.”

He laughed, one of his full body ones that made you smile widely at him. “Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

But then you saved him, giving him a small and flirtatious smile, one he’d only seen you give others, never him. The one where your eyes had a fire to the edges, a slight curve to your pink lips, your tongue dart out to wet them. “H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

The conversation had taken a rapid turn and it had your skin warming, your brain abuzz. What if he was? You had to admit, you’d always found Harry attractive, from that first moment you met him in a coffee shop after he responded to your Craigslist ad. You had always told yourself it was just normal attraction, the same attraction you had to that boy you’d known your entire life and knew was attractive but never actually considered anything more with. It was platonic. You lived with the guy, for Pete’s sake—you witnessed his messy room and how he struggled to cook fish properly and when he had vomited after a night out with his friends. You’d seen him at his worst and at his best, but so had he.

Living with Harry had brought you close in a way you didn’t expect—you didn’t necessarily share everything with him, but he knew you in a way few others did. He could read you well, know how your day was by the way you entered the apartment. You liked the same type of movies, you had routines, you shared about your families over pasta dinners and a bottle of wine when the power was out and you had nowhere else to be. More than anything, you felt safe with him, comfortable, valued. He had always gone out of his way to make sure you felt comfortable with living with him and you thought he was honestly the best roommate you had ever had. You were endlessly grateful he responded to the ad and you’d ended up living with him.

But sex with him? Would it change everything? Probably. Would it change it for the worst, though? You weren’t sure. “Would it change anything?” You asked hesitantly.

He paused, the tension between you thick in your small living room, the soft light from the lamp in the corner basking you both in a warm yellow glow. “Not unless we wanted it to.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then I wouldn’t say no,” you said, voice soft.

Harry’s eyes were boring a hole in yours, his breaths shallow and frequent, panting as you both stared at each other, trying to figure out if what you thought was going to happen would actually occur. “Are you sure?” He asked, leaning slightly towards you.

You lowered your legs so that your knees weren’t up to your chest, and pushed your body closer to his in answer. He reached out and hesitantly brought his hand up to your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, finding your gaze before leaning in to close the distance between you.

The second his lips brushed yours you wondered why you hadn’t done this earlier. With his hand cupping your cheek, he pulled you in closer, his free arm wrapping around your lower back and tugging you into his body. He tasted like pizza and red wine and you thought that you probably did too. Your hands reached up to grip the back of his neck, holding him closer to you and shifting towards him. It felt electric, kissing him, and you were falling into it faster than you could think, craving more and more from him, desperate for his touch and the way he prodded open your lips and touched your tongue with his own.

He was grabbing at your hips, squeezing your skin through your pajamas shorts and the oversized band t-shirt you wore, the pads of his fingers digging into you and his rings heavy against your clothes. Fuck it you decided, and pushed back on his shoulders a bit, unwinding your legs, and swinging them onto either side of his hips, settling firmly into his lap. He looked surprised at your movement, but not mad, especially whenever you adjusted and brushed over his hard-on.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips when you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, his fingers danced across your back, sliding up your bare skin. You never wore a bra at home, something he’d long ago gotten used to, but to have you pressed to his front, your nipples peaking out, and feeling your bare back under his hand was a completely different experience.

You tugged on the ends of his hair and he groaned into your mouth, a smile spreading across your lips that were between his. With your teeth you tugged on his bottom lip, pulling it away from his mouth and watching as his eyes fell to your mouth, his chest rising and falling as you let go of his lip and sat an inch away from him. Then, he was surging forward again, holding your head in one of his hands and pulling your mouth back to his, chasing you.

Everything about the moment felt good—from the way his hands felt on you to the smell of his cologne and the shower gel you both used, the shared laundry detergent on his clothes. His lips on yours, the prod of his tongue against yours, the way the sounds that left him rang in your ears. Your chest was crushed against his, knees tight against his hips, pushing him back into the pillow behind his head so that you were both horizontal on the couch, your body hovering over his.

The two of you lingered in that position, letting the swivel of your hips over his pelvis draw moans from you both, soft and breathy sounds that filled your living room. Harry’s hands ran under your shirt and then back down to your hips to guide you, a path he repeated over and over again and you weren’t complaining. You loved the feeling of his hands on your body. You were resting fully on his chest, your nipples hard under your shirt as you ground yourself against him, your forearms resting on the pillow behind his head for leverage.

When his hips bucked up into yours, you couldn’t help but rasp his name, a “Harry,” falling from your lips with ease. You trailed your lips down his neck in response, pushing at the neck of his shirt to find the spot at the base of his neck where you sucked harshly. His fingers pressed tighter on your hips and you smiled against his skin. “Like that?” You asked, licking over the mark you’d made.

“Yeah,” he said, rolling your hips over his. You could feel how hard he was through your pajama shorts and his jeans and you were curious. Living with him you’d seen him in just his briefs and the occasional swimsuit when he was heading to the pool with friends, but you’d never seen him fully nude. However, you had a pretty good idea of his size and you couldn’t say you weren’t eager.

Slowly, you inched your hand down his chest, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt, loving the noises that spilled from his mouth at the feeling. When your hand reached his jeans, though, he pulled at your wrist, ripping you away. “What?”

“I wanna do you,” he said. “You were talking earlier about oral and now I’m curious where I fall on the scale.”

He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? “Okay,” you told him, pressing your palm into his torso. “Where do you want to be?”

“Bed,” he replied, nudging at your nose. “Let’s see how much that new bed creaks.”

You pushed up off of him, and he followed you to your bed with his hands on your hips, tugging you back into his chest mid-way through the way to kiss you again, pulling a gasp from your throat when he surprised you. When you pushed open your door, for the first time there was no point in closing it behind you because the only other person who could have seen what was happening was already in the room with you. Harry’s body mirrored yours as you stepped backwards towards your bed, following you as you fell onto the duvet that you had placed there only a matter of hours earlier.

You wanted his skin, to see him and feel him in this way, and so you pushed at the hem of his shirt, the word, “Off,” sticking in your throat when he pulled it up and off of his body, tossing it to the side without consequence. Bare skin stretched in front of you, covered in swirlings of black ink that you had seen before, but never like this. Never when it was yours to see, to touch, to feel. So you took full advantage, sliding your palms up his chest as he leaned back down.

“Your turn,” he mumbled, sucking on your nipple through your shirt, your back arching towards his mouth in a silent beg for more. Fingers pressed into the sliver of your stomach that was exposed, and you raised your arms as if to tell he could push it off, which he did, creeping the fabric up your body and leaving kisses in the wake of the hem. Once it was over your head, he licked over your bare nipple and your a wet mewl left your lips.

“H,” you rasped, tugging on the locks of his hair, the strands threading between your fingers.

His head bounced up, the forest green of his irises barely visible, his pupils blown out with desire. “What?”

You opened your legs wider, and Harry smiled devilishly at you, giving your cleavage on final pull with his lips before creeping down your body. You didn’t stop him when he went to tug off your shorts, nor did you stop him when he laid between your legs, or when he licked and sucked and pulled at your inner thighs, making your chest shudder with desperation.

Nor did you stop him when his tongue touched your clit, licking a straight line up from your slit to your bud. Instead, you gasped his name, a curse mixed in falling from your lips, and tugged his head closer to you. He’d collected saliva on his tongue without you realizing it and the wetness of it was running all over your hot skin, a distinct slurping noise filling the air that only made it hotter. You picked up your head and watched in rapture as he licked into you, his curls falling into his face as he moved between your legs.

He alternated between sucking on your clit and swiping at your slit, nudging his tongue into you just to drive you crazy. Which he succeeded in doing, based on how your hips picked up when he did it, chasing the pressure he left in his wake. He was turning you into a mess, a mess only for him, desire and your orgasm falling through you faster than usual. For some reason he had been concerned about how good he was, but now he was between your legs and you didn’t know how you had gone twenty-six years without him. How you had lived with him for a year and never felt him like this, seen him like this—his head tilting up and the sight of your juices on coating his lips and chin, his tongue darting out to taste them.

“So?” He asked, pressing into your plush thighs, his rings leaving an indentation in their wake. “Where do I fit on the scale?”

“You haven’t made me come,” you responded, voice rough, breath catching in your lungs as you tried to inhale properly.

A wicked smile flashed onto his face, and then he brushed his tongue in a circle around your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m not done yet.” Then he was back between your legs, drawing mewls and moans from you like it was his job, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the mattress, back arching as you tried to grind down on his face. You could feel your walls tightening around nothing and you needed something there, a little bit more.

“Your fingers,” you said, picking up your head to look at him. “I need your fingers.”

Harry glanced up at you, before he answered your plea with his touch, not his words. Not being a man for warning, the tips of his forefinger and middle finger brushed at your entrance just once before pushing inside of you, a deep and unrelenting moan flowing from you with ease. “Yeah? That feel good?”

You could tell he liked praise and so you tightened your hold on his hair and muttered a Yes, bringing his lips back to your center as he drove his fingers inside of you at a brutal pace. The sound of his fingers and your wetness echoed in your ears, but the louder sound was Harry’s grunts and moans and curses below you whenever he brought his head up for air. Somehow, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you, which definitely gave him some bonus points in your book.

“Gonna come for me, Y/N?” His words were rough and deep, a lower octave to his voice you hadn’t heard before, and it made you desperate for him. Your hips pushed down against his hand, craving more inside of you, and that was when the cold metal of his rings brushed your entrance. The coldness against the warmth of your skin felt heavenly and you mewled at the touch, Harry chuckling lightly from where he laid.

You could feel your belly tightening, the tell tale sign of an orgasm quickly approaching, but you needed just barely more from him. You didn’t know what it was, but you needed more. So you asked, a “More, please,” leaving your mouth in a chant.

He was unfazed, doubling his pace inside of you and suckling on your clit repeatedly before letting his lips fall to your entrance, slipping around the taught skin with his tongue to add to the sensation. It had your back arching and you knew you were mere seconds away. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you called into the room, your grip on his hair lethal as he licked you into your orgasm.

It crashed into you and he fucked you through it with his fingers, sucking and pulling on your bud as you rode his fingers, back arched and a series of curses circling around you. “Beautiful,” you barely heard him mumble into your skin, the low rumble of his voice sending vibrations through you.

Once you’d regained your breath he was crawling up the length of your body, kisses littered across your bare skin. “Fuck,” you said, a chuckle leaving you as you were reacquainted with the sight of his face hovering above you.

“So?” He asked, hands coming to rest on either side of your head. “What’s my rating?”

You tugged at his neck and dropped his body to yours, his lips meeting yours in a cruel fire. You rolled your hips up and wrapped your legs around his waist, shoving him to the side that he rotated, falling to his back and you above him. “You know exactly how good you are,” you told him, licking and pulling at his neck. “You arrogant asshole.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest, his hands coming to sit on your waist as you brushed back and forth on his jeans. “I distinctly remember you asking me not to stop, so I’m going to go with a high rating? Perhaps the best of all the men who have come before me?”

You knew his ego was big enough that you didn’t need to inflate it, but for some reason you did anyways. “You’d be right about that,” you told him, shoving his legs apart so you could sit between them and popping the button on his jeans. “Now, can I fuck you?”

Harry laughed one of his full body laughs, his head raising off the bed at your words. “Yeah, go ahead, sweetheart,” he said once he’d calmed, a smile stretched across his face at the sight of you between his knees.

With a roll of your eyes, you tugged on the denim, pulling it down his legs. “Do you ever wear underwear?” You asked him, pushing the material off the bed and gazing at his erect pink cock resting on his belly.

“Why?”

“Just trying to figure out how you manage to walk around with that thing and no underwear.”

“Oi!” He said, a frown fixing onto his lips at your laughter. “It’s not a thing, it’s my dick and it’s about to be fucking you, so no mean words, hmm?”

When your fingers wrapped around him all of his laughter and complaints were gone with a string of curse words, his hips bucking up at your touch. You pumped him a few times, nosing at his thigh just to rile him up a bit more. He was warm and heavy in your grip. For the most part, you found dicks the same as all body parts, but Harry’s was beautiful in a way few were. It made you even wetter than he had left you and gathered saliva on your tongue, and when you pushed on the tip delicately with your thumbpad and heard him groan, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer.

You pushed up off of the bed and he whined at your absence, but you ignored him. You had a mission. Rifling through your bedside table, you finally landed on the item you were searching for—the handcuffs you’d purchased a few months ago and had been waiting to try out.

Harry’s eyes widened at the clink of the metal and watched as you swung them on your finger, a coy smile on your face. “Remember these?” You asked, moving to the headboard where you threaded through the wrought iron. “Didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?”

“No,” he said, gulping and raising his wrists to you, pliant as ever.

“Good,” you answered, a kiss to each of his wrists before securing them in the handcuffs, tugging on the chain to make sure it would hold. “Now then.” You re-positioned yourself over his hips, one knee on either side, and trailed your fingers down his chest. “You look so pretty laid out for me like this.”

Harry’s mind was spinning as he gazed up at you. He’d never felt quite like this—so powerless, but so desperate for someone. You’d turned him to mush with just a few touches and he wanted you in a way he had needed few. The handcuffs weren’t what did it, either, it was the way you touched him, the quirk of your smile and your laughter, how you had bucked into his face, how your fingers touched his skin. He didn’t realize until he was underneath you how long he had been waiting to be there at your mercy, willing to take any shred you’d give him.

“You okay?” You asked, voice soft as you touched his cheek.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I’m okay.”

You leaned down and kissed his chest, before snatching the condom you’d laid out on the duvet. Rolling it down his length he hissed at the touch, but you tried to be gentle, knowing that the handcuffs were probably a lot. Then, you rose up onto your knees, positioning yourself over him, and raised his cock, brushing the tip against your entrance. Your eyes found his as you lowered onto him, a groan leaving both of your chests as you took him.

“Holy shit,” he said as your hips met him, his length fully inside of you. “Shit, Y/N.”

You rocked back and forth on him, your fingernails digging into his chest at the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside of you. “Feels so good,” you mumbled, your words long gone from making sense. It always happened—you lost the ability to think about what you were saying, words becoming a string of consciousness. “So deep, H.”

“Yeah?” You could hear the handcuffs rattling against your headboard as you moved over him, but the bed wasn’t creaking yet, just shifting back and forth. His hips raised up to yours, pushing him deeper inside of you somehow and it made you both moan, deep and unrestrained.

Not having to censor your sounds was a completely different experience and you loved it. Your eyes flickered up to where his wrists were clasped in the handcuffs, his nails digging into his palms, the cross tattoo on his thumb shining in the light of your bedroom. “How do they feel?” You asked, bouncing up and down on him.

He couldn’t answer at first, mind swimming from the tight metal on his wrists and the way you held him inside of you so snugly. His whole body was warm, from his sweat and your touch and just the overwhelming desire rolling through him. “Like them,” he finally got out, because he did. Something about the restraints made it more intense, the fact that he couldn’t touch you, the fact that you were just fucking him like you wanted to. It was making his orgasm rush towards him, a twitching throughout his body he was barely staving off.

“They’re hot,” you said, using your knees you speed up your tempo, needing him faster inside of you. “Like seeing you all tied up.”

Usually you didn’t feel this comfortable this quickly with someone you were hooking up with, but with Harry you knew he would never judge him. You trusted him fully and here, in this room, was no different. “I’m close,” he rasped when you swiveled your hips, brushing him against your g-spot and whining out his name.

“Yeah?” Your fingernails crept down his torso leaving long red marks in their wake. “Wanna see you come, H,” you mumbled, splaying your palms out on his abdomen, which was taut from the pleasure he was trying to hold off.

“Fuck,” he yelled when you clenched down on him, his hips bouncing up immediately, slamming against yours. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” then he was coming, the combination of the cold metal on his wrists leaving him at your mercy and the tightness you held around him combining to send him toppling over the edge.

You bent over, your torso resting on his and fucked yourself on him as best you could, not wanting to overwhelm him but also chasing your own release. The sound of your name on his tongue, a raw and unhinged moan ripping through him from his own sensitivity. “Close,” you said, kissing across his collarbone and blowing softly on the mark you’d left earlier.

The sight of his eyes screwed shut and the panting of his breath, the way his chest heaved as he tried to calm down, mixed with him begging for you to find your release left you squirming above him, body rattling with your orgasm. You clenched down on him as you came and he grunted at the feeling, but you couldn’t stop it, a call of his name leaving your mouth.

It left you worn-out and desperate for cuddles, so you reached up, unfastening the handcuffs and releasing his wrists. His hands found your skin immediately, hooking them around your back and pulling you flush. You lifted up off of him so that he could pull the condom off and you whimpered at the loss. “Tired,” you mumbled into his chest.

“S’okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your forehead. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shutting your eyes against his skin. “How was that?”

He let out a breath, taut and tight in the room. “Fucking insane,” he answered, and you giggled next to him as he pinched your ass lightly. “You’ve been hiding that from me for all this time, huh?”

“Guess so.”

He chuckled, nudging your forehead with his chin. “Think you might want to do that again sometime?”

You picked up your head, opening your eyes to look at him. “Sure I didn’t scare you off with the handcuffs?”

“Fuck no,” he replied in a rush. “Blew my mind.”

“Then yeah,” you told him. “As long as it’s my turn next.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up, and then a grin spread across his face. “Your turn, eh?”

His red-tinged wrists wrapped around you and smothered you in kisses, your hands batting at his body in a fit of laughter, but he didn’t quit. Instead, he pulled you close, a final press of his lips to your cheek, and you settled in against his body, knowing he’d be there in the morning.

He was your roommate, after all—where else did he have to be?

thank you for reading!!!! please go check out the other writers in the bificathon here, reblog this fic, and come chat with me in my inbox about this fic if you liked it. xoxo love you all!

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 1! “Harvest”

My first ficlet for Suptober! Read under the cut :)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 2,218

Tags: Fluff, Disaster Bi Dean Winchester, Daydreaming about hot farmers, Some suggestive language (and swearing), Angelic wheat harvest assistance, The Dom Brow makes an appearance, Sam Ships It, Mini Case Fic  

On AO3 here.

“All right,” Dean announces as he stomps into the hospital room, trailing mud with every step. “You’re not gonna have a problem anymore, Randy.”

The man propped up on the hospital bed cushions glares at Dean from under bushy eyebrows. “Well, it’s about time,” he snaps. “First these-- these things terrorize my fields for weeks, then y’all show up and are so useless that they maim me after you’re already on the case, and now I’ve lost the prime window to harvest a year’s worth o’ growth ‘cause I’m laid up in this godforsaken facility. So don’t you tell me I ain’t gonna have a problem anymore.” 

Dean sinks down onto the rickety plastic chair next to the bed, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his (probably) dislocated shoulder, courtesy of some extremely vengeful spirits. He fixes Randy with an even gaze. 

“Man, I’m sorry about your leg. I am. The spirits had a wider range than we thought and we figured you’d be safe at the house.”

Randy snorts in obvious derision, his scruffy mustache fluttering comically. Dean presses on.

“But, we’ve put them to rest. Your great-grandparents aren’t gonna give you any more grief.”  Even if the rest of your family did totally fuck them over.

He stands again, awkwardly, and pats Randy’s good knee. “Sorry about your harvest, though. Can anyone help out? Neighbors? Friends?”

Randy glowers. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

Dean quirks his lips and nods. “Right. Take it easy, Randy.” He leaves the still-grumbling farmer behind, following his own trail of mud back down the hallway. A tall janitor lurking around the corner sends him a death glare and Dean tries for an appropriately apologetic smile. 

It’s been a real headache of a night. 

The pair of spirits haunting Randy Johnson’s wheat fields ended up being way more pissed off than Sam, Dean, and Cas had anticipated. By the time Cas located the heavy brass key to the farmhouse that was apparently tethering the property-line-obsessed spirits to the material plane, Dean and Sam were long out of rock salt. In their retreat, they’d ended up waist-deep in a pebbly creek, splashing and wobbling as they beat off the screeching spirits with crowbars. Dean has an unfortunately-placed boulder to thank for his dislocated shoulder -- he went down hard and clumsy just as Cas reappeared next to the stream, the old key melting dramatically in the bright glow of his palm. 

The spirits burned away in a shower of sparks, along with Dean’s dignity.

To top it all off, Dean drew the short straw to go tell Randy the case was closed, and he may have stomped off in a sulky huff before thinking of asking Cas or Sam to put his shoulder right. 

Oh, well. At least it’s dealt with. One more night in their more-stained-than-usual motel room, and first thing in the morning they’ll get the hell outta Dodge (almost literally - they’re up in Osborne County). 

Dean thinks of a bright July morning on the open road and sighs in relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn’t get his wish.

“I just feel bad, Dean!” Sam protests as Dean gesticulates incredulously at him. (His shoulder was very pleasantly healed by Cas the night before, and if Dean noticed that Cas’ warm hands lingered a little longer on his skin than was technically necessary for a cursory dislocation repair, he didn’t mention it.)

“God, Sammy, yeah, it sucks about the guy’s leg, but maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole to everyone he knows, somebody’d help him out! It’s not-- it can’t be our problem.”

Sam crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not about Randy. His fields are part of a huge supply that feeds a ton of people. Do you want people to go hungry, Dean?”

Castiel chooses that moment to materialize directly next to Dean, his nose inches away from Dean’s cheek. He’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and Dean immediately grabs one. Cas squints and tilts his head. “Why does Dean want people to go hungry?”

“Oh my god.” Dean throws his free hand up. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll find someone who’s willing to plow the dude’s fields. That’ll be easy.”

Sam opens his big mouth, probably to say something about having faith in humanity, but Cas beats him to it. Still planted firmly in Dean’s bubble, he sends a puff of warm air against Dean’s face as he speaks.

“Oh. I can do it.”

Dean and Sam both look at him. Dean shuffles back a couple steps and wills his eyes away from the guy’s lips. He really spends too much time staring at them.

“Um--” Sam clears his throat. “You can harvest Randy’s wheat?”

“I can plow, yes.” Cas nods firmly. Dean’s first sip of coffee comes spraying back out. He pounds his chest and wheezes. 

“Like-- like-- with a combine?” 

Cas furrows his brow. “Is that a machine? No, I don’t require machinery. This is a very basic task.”

“Plowing,” Dean says weakly.

“Harvesting,” Cas corrects, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “Humans have been doing it for a very long time. I used to help, now and again. I can’t imagine the process has changed much.”

Sam slaps his thighs as he stands up from his bed. “Well! Look at that, Dean. Cas doesn’t want people to go hungry.” 

Dean flips him off, but it lacks the usual heat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, they find themselves on the edge of a vast, lazily undulating expanse of gold. They’d skirted the north edge of the field extensively while working the spirit case, since the activity was strongest there along the creek, but in his single-minded focus Dean hadn’t really paid much attention to the field itself.

It’s big. Like, squint-into-the-distance-and-you-can’t-see-the-end big. 

“You’re really gonna plow all that?” Dean asks, glancing at Cas. The morning sun is turning the tips of Cas’ hair a chestnut gold. 

“I will cut down the stalks, separate the grain from the chaff, and deposit the edible grain into a large truck, which apparently takes it where it needs to go,” Cas says matter-of-factly. “I visited Randy early this morning to make sure I knew which truck it was.”

Sam laughs. “Oh yeah? How’d good old Randy take that?”

“He seemed dubious,” Cas says. “And rude. I assured him that despite his unsavory attitude, he would come home to harvested fields.”

“Very angelic of you,” Sam remarks. 

“So how’s this gonna go?” Dean lifts a hand to block out the steadily-rising sun. “You gonna be flapping back and forth? Probably not smart to let the locals clock an angel doing the harvest.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, somehow gazing down at Dean despite being an inch shorter. “I don’t flap, Dean. I may have wings, but their movement in the ether is beyond your comprehension.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his face away in a show of studying the field to the north, but mostly to conceal the flush of his cheeks in response to that eyebrow. 

For Christ's sake, keep it together, Winchester.

“I can’t explain to you how it will look,” Cas continues, oblivious. “You’ll just have to watch. Anything you see will be for your eyes only. I guarantee no locals will ‘clock me.’”

Dean looks back just in time to see the tail end of the finger quotes. Cas is staring right at him, that damn eyebrow still up, a subtle challenge, daring Dean to make a move.

Maybe not so oblivious. Asshole. 

Dean smiles sweetly and gestures at the wheat. “All right then. Have at it, buddy. Show us what you’ve got.”

With no further ado, Cas is gone. Dean’s left staring through the previously-Cas-occupied space at his brother, who’s grimacing with an air of great suffering. 

“What?” Dean demands. 

Sam sighs heavily and gazes out over the field. “You two are so weird.”

Dean’s about to respond with something really witty when Sam perks up and points into the distance. “Holy crap, look!”

Dean follows the path of Sam’s outstretched finger and his mouth drops open. On the horizon, at the far end of the field, there’s a cloud. No-- a mini tornado. A golden tornado. A… sparkly tornado?

“What the--” Dean cups his hands around his eyes like blinkers. Even with the glare of the sun blocked out, though, the tornado is just as bright -- a swirling, racing funnel criss-crossing the field way faster than a combine, or even Baby, could drive. 

“Why is it-- what’s the sparkly stuff?” 

Sam’s squinting too. “I think it’s the pieces of the stalks he’s separating? And they catch the light as they get tossed around.” 

The tornado’s already halfway across the field, approaching them steadily. It’s about as tall as an oak tree, and as it gets closer Dean sees that Sam was right: thousands of little stalks and bits of grain and -- what had Cas called it? -- chaff are whirling and flitting amid the twisting golden dust of the tornado. The effect is a bit dizzying, kind of like that ocular migraine Dean had one time as a teenager, when an aura of tiny flashing spots obscured his vision, right there in his eye yet impossible to focus on. 

He steps back instinctively, Sam mirroring his movement, when the tornado grows close to them. It whips past, blowing Dean’s jacket open, and where there was once chest-high golden grain, there’s now just dirt littered with aborted stalks. 

“Damn,” Dean whispers. He’s seen Cas do all kinds of badass things, of course, but they’ve been more of the smiting and heavy-lifting variety. This is a new level of cool. In a farmer-y way. This, of course, leads Dean’s traitorous brain directly to images of worn flannel stretched tight over biceps; of a blade of hay dangling jauntily from chapped lips; of long, strong fingers gripping a pitchfork--

“--Dean!” 

The pleasantly-evolving bubble bursts. Dean twitches as Sam elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude! Cas is done, come on.”

Dean blinks a few times to bring himself back to reality (a reality with wheat-harvesting angel tornados) and realizes that Sam’s heading north along the field to where a normal-sized, non-funnel-cloudy Cas is standing, brushing off his trenchcoat. Dean follows his brother and takes in the scene; the whole field really has been reduced to nothing -- just a flat, dappled expanse.

“Damn, Cas,” he says quietly as he reaches Cas’ side. His voice comes out strained and a little breathless. “That was some good plowing.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Can replies gravely. He tugs on his cuffs and some wheat dust puffs out. “It was an effective harvest. I disguised myself from mortal eyes -- including yours -- as I transported the grain to the truck, but I trust you saw the rest?”

Sam nods enthusiastically and launches straight into a barrage of questions about the physics and techniques and yadda yadda before Dean has to come up with a response. Yeah, I saw it. Yeah, it got me all tingly. That’s normal. He takes a few deliberate, slow breaths to calm the pounding in his chest.

Still tuning Sam out, he zeroes in on a single piece of wheat still stuck in Cas’ hair. It’s poking up toward the blue summer Kansas sky -- a tiny, trembling link between earth and heaven. Dean sidles up to Cas before he can overthink it. He slips his fingers into Cas’ wild, dark hair and plucks the wheat out. 

He throws it on the ground. It belongs to the earth. 

Sam falls silent with a choked-off laugh and Cas turns his trademark unblinking stare onto Dean. But this time there’s a slight crinkle to the edges of his eyes. A quirk of his lips. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again. He reaches out and -- Dean stops breathing -- brushes another piece of wheat out of Dean’s collar. His warm fingers graze Dean’s throat and all Dean can do is watch the little stalk flutter to the ground. 

Well. So much for a steady heartbeat. 

“Hey, I’ve got stuff in my hair, too,” Sam announces, voice thick with amusement. “Anyone gonna help me out?”

Dean tears his eyes away from the enlightening piece of wheat and points a finger at Sam, leveling him with his sternest shut the fuck up face. He prays his cheeks aren’t flaming. 

“If you need assistance, Sam--” Cas says, starting toward him.

“--He’s fine,” Dean interjects hastily. Maybe a little loudly. He coughs to cover it up. Smooth. “Let’s go. I wanna hit the road.”

Sam’s already jogging away before Dean’s done speaking. “I’ve still got the keys,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll warm up the car. You guys can catch up!”

Cas and Dean are left at the edge of the empty field. Dean rubs his neck and shuffles his feet, acutely aware of Cas’ piercing gaze. It’s nearly warmer than the morning sun. “Uh-- that was really cool, Cas. Thanks for letting us see it.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies, measured and deep. “I enjoyed sharing that with you.”

Wow. All right. Dean needs to get moving or he’s going to explode. But not before filing that particular comment away for extensive mental perusal later, in the privacy of his bedroom. 

He flashes a grin and punches Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, farmer angel. Let’s go home.”

[obeiii-mee]

Hey there! Love your writing. What about MC spending a whole day with just one of the brothers? Like you know, if the brothers were deciding what to do? Sorry if it’s too boring and romantic haha, I’m a lost case, I desperately need that night walks with Satan and working out with Beel in my life haha. Thanks xx

Same though. I love writing just typical HCs with the bros during date night or something. And I’m currently writing a few angst HCs so I really needed this too lmao. I hope you don’t mind these not being too long. I hope this satisfies you lol.

Enjoy!

——————————

The Brothers Spending a Whole Day with MC:

Lucifer:

-Mr. Prideful doesn’t take many days off

-But when he’s with you, he really feels like he can unwind properly

-Lucifer loves going on walks with you tbh

-He feels like it’s a nice break from all of his office work and meetings

-Sometimes the two of you end up in Majolish or a restaurant

-He definitely has a thing for spoiling you on days like these, because he feels he doesn’t appreciate you enough otherwise

-Like when he yells at both you and Mammon for doing stupid shit around Lord Diavolo

-The two of you could walk through the whole of DevilDom hand in hand if you had more hours in the day

-I see Lucifer as a bit traditional when it comes to dating so it’s obvious you’ll have movie dates and everything

-But a day off for him? With you? Away from his brothers, all of their chaos and the never ending attention his paperwork needs?

-It feels like he’s in the Celestial Realm all over again

-He does love you

-His past just doesn’t let him express his affection towards you very well

Mammon:

-If the two of you could spend the whole day together, there are only three places you could be at: Majolish, the casino or trying to make money for Mammon’s debts somewhere

-But it doesn’t really matter for him

-He could be stuck in a broom closet with you and still be happy (though he wouldn’t admit it)

-Spending a day with just him is bound to end in tears to be honest, on his part usually

-Because everything is going well and you’re having fun

-“Ah shit!”

-“Mammon you OK? What happened?”

-“I accidentally sold Lucifer’s gloves for 50000 Grimm!”

-How does one accidentally sell something?

-So he get a bit of an earful for that

-Other than that, being with the second eldest is crazy enough as it is

-You may have lost all that money at the casino but for the first time in a while, Mammon didn’t care that much

-Because you were there and laughing with him about how stupid both of you were

-You guys hit as many shops as possible and just generally have a messy, fun time together

-He often ends these days saying something like “You should be grateful that THE GREAT MAMMON agreed to let you tag along with him today.”

-But just kiss him on the cheek and he will shut up. For like hours. He’ll be too flushed to even look you in the eye

-He really wants to spend another day out with his human

Levi:

-Welp, life of a shut-in otaku

-It should be of no surprise that the two of you spend most of your time in his room

-It’s just the one place he’s most comfortable in and having you there makes it so much better

-Anime’s and video games are a must obviously

-But he loves doing movie marathons with you too (while loudly complaining the movie sucks and that you’re a normie for choosing it. Which means he likes it)

-Maybe a few good hours of him ranting about TSL because it’s Levi

-So the chances of you guys getting any sleep on said day are slim to none

-Also, if you agree to go to conventions with him, he will die of happiness

-On the rare occasion that he does go outside, he’s only out there because you went with him so that should tell you how much he loves you

-But most of the time you’re locked in his room to the point where Luci dearest has to come along and drag you the fuck to breakfast

-Ah, true love~~

Satan:

-I mean, this one should be pretty obvious too

-If he doesn’t enjoy dates in the library, then is he really Satan? (I never thought a sentence like that would ever be typed)

-Most of the time it ends with him reading to you because his voice is sO bEAutIful and you just melt when you hear it

-I will forever hc that he makes sound effects while reading too so imagine that

-You two don’t always get the chance to spend a whole day together

-But he tries to check in on you at least once a day

-*Cue romantic run through the house of Lamentation, trying to find you so he can gossip and bitch about Lucifer*

-Walks with him are very common too

-They usually take place at night, because he’s a sap and he read too many romance books and damn it kiss him already

-He would hold an umbreally over you if it started raining and everything

-Satan takes these moments to chat to you about anything, he just wants to appreciate you being there

-You guys made out several times while on these ‘walks’ ngl skskevshskbeuensb

-One time, you showed him a cat cáfe in the human realm and he went nuts

-Safe to say you’ve been there more times than I care to count, most of which were without permission

-A day with him can either go extremely calmly and end with you guys falling asleep on each other in his room or escalate to either pranking Lucifer or...steamier stuff

-Haha if anyone ever mentions he’s a cheesy bastard, they’re dead before they can say their prayers

-Except you, you get the pass on this one, tease him as much as you want

Asmo:

-Finally, he gets to have you all to himself without any of his brothers cockblocking him all the time~ (same tbh)

-The whole day would be planned from head to toe in activities and events

-It would start with some sort of makeover in the morning (getting your nails done, doing hairstyles, skin routine etc.)

-Then it would move on to some serious shopping sprees where he basically buys everything that he deems to be cute

-They’re for you 100% tho

-The day usually ends with you getting dragged to parties and clubs because Asmo can’t go a day without speaking to other people

-By the time you get home, you’re almost knocked out cold and carrying several bags full of clothes and shit

-But you can never say you didn’t enjoy yourself on these days

-Having Asmo around is exhilarating and somehow, even if crowds happen to not be your thing, it’s still really easy to have fun anyway

-There are times when the two of you stay at home and do each other’s nails and everything

-And you two are very fond of these sort of dates as well

-Of course, all of this assuming he won’t try to seduce you and get in your pants all day

-Turns our Mammon is somehow telepathically connected to you and rushes over any time this happens

-So much for not being cockblocked I guess

-He always switches things up as well which is usually very pleasant because you don’t visit the same shops or clubs every day

-Just be back by midnight or you’ll have your asses handed back to you otherwise

Beel:

-Beel loves you

-Beel loves food

-If those two happen to be in the same room, he might as well die peacefully

-It’s all he ever asked for (especially if Belphie is there too)

-Half of the day is spent at either Hell’s Kitchen or in your kitchen at home

-For him, the food always tastes better when you’re there so if you’re willing to go, then he’ll be like a cheerful puppy the whole time (how many times have I compared Beel to a puppy lmao)

-The other half of the day is spent training

-Work out sessions are important to him and he’s more than happy to let you join in

-If anything, you’ll be on his back as he does his push ups even though you’re not that heavy to him

-It sort of warms that demon heart of his because you’re always there handing him towels and water after he’s finished

-And you always have snacks prepared too which is wonderful really

-Kudos for being able to hide them from him the whole time

-It’s also not that surprising to know that you, Beel and Belphie hang out a lot

-So these days often mean that Belphegor tags along with you guys everywhere

-You won’t notice him tho, believe me, he’ll just stay attached to Beel’s back and sleep the whole time

-If he gets to spend a day with his loved ones, then Beel can honestly not ask for more

Belphie:

-“Belphie...?”

-“Yes MC?”

-“Is.....is that a pillow fort that’s almost as big as the attic?”

-“It is indeed.”

-“Why?”

-“Why not?”

-Tbh it would be a miracle if you two didn’t sleep the whole day

-But if he had to go somewhere with you

-It would be anywhere

-Much like Mammon, he couldn’t give less of a shit about the evironment as long as you’re there

-Chances are, however, that he will sneak you two to the human world a few times in secret

-He still insists he hates humans but truth is, he misses them and their realm

-Going back there, without permission the same way he did all those centuries ago, was like a breath of fresh air

-You guys would be chilling at a park in the human realm, probably make small picnic or something

-Belphie, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, loves these dates and would kill anything on his path if it meant he gets to be in your arms while taking a nap in the human world

-He invites Beel along too which makes everything so much better for him

-He will just fall asleep on you while you run your fingers through his hair

-Belphie is so warm too so it’s likely you won’t stay awake for long either

-Poor Beel has to carry both back to DevilDom but he does it anyway without complaining >:(

-He knows that he isn’t allowed to come up here and that he should stop these dates before Lucifer finds out

-But being out here with you brings him an irreplaceable meaning and you’re so soft and gentle, he can’t resist cuddling into you

-Also he doesn’t give a shit what Lucifer thinks

(Idk why my writing is so bad in this post, it kinda feels like I forced myself to write it and maybe that’s why..? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my mess of HCs)

Al~

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Two

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 8.6k+ (opps)

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, PTSD moments

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: Two weeks before the surgery, the Danvers sisters find out something about their Mom and the Superfriends go bowling!

Surprise! Two days later! What is going on? I had a lot of fun writing this. Sorry it got so long!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

2 Weeks Before The Surgery

Emma slowly wakes up and stretches her whole body while voicelessly yawning. Generally her sleep hasn’t been as disturbed as before, but Emma is still finding she doesn’t feel as refreshed as she should when she wakes up.

Her hand reaches out for Lena, but finds the space next to her empty and cold. She blinks her eyes open and silently sighs when there is no sign of her girlfriend.

Lena had warned that she may have to work on Saturday due to the volume of business piling up. But she'd already said she needed to recharge.

Still.

Even though Sam and Lena have been hiring more staff to work the caseloads and Lena has been supervising the team leaders in the labs. The workload just seems never ending for L-Corp at the moment.

Causing Emma to barely see her girlfriend this week leaving Lena to usually stumble tiredly into the apartment after Emma has gone to bed. She’d sleepily brush her teeth, flop into bed, sometimes fully clothed and make Emma jump awake by the bounce of the bed. If Lena was still clothed in her tight business clothes, Emma would carefully change Lena into her pyjamas so she could sleep more comfortably. Emma would then kiss her on the forehead due to the raven haired beauty already being asleep.

Then Lena would wake up before her alarm, leaving Emma to sleep in as Lena quietly sneaks out of the apartment to head to L-Corp before sunrise. There wasn’t even much time for them to have lunch together but Emma would savour the moments she could have with Lena.

However, last night when Lena stumbled through the bedroom door, Emma had still been awake and once Lena crawled into bed and into Emma’s arms, she had groaned that she would take Saturday off to recharge.

‘Guess not.’ Emma thinks sadly while rolling out of bed to use the bathroom. She wobbles slightly as the room spins but Emma was getting used to the sensation.

Afterwards she grabs her phone and sees a message from her Mom

Eliza: Morning Sweetheart! Was wondering if you and Lena wanted to grab breakfast/brunch/lunch with me? Depending on what time you wake up of course!

Emma’s heart warms at how her Mom always wants to include Lena in their outings, which evidently, has started to dwindle. Emma glances at the time on her phone and sees it’s just gone 10:30am.

Emma: Yes please! Although it will be just me cause Lena has to work. 🥺

Where would you like to go? Do you want me to pick you up?

Due to everything happening Eliza had decided to rent an apartment that was close to the DEO and in a location that was in the middle of her daughter’s apartments. Emma was still impressed that her Mom managed to achieve all this in such a short time. But once her Mom’s mind was set on something, she went for it and no one would dare tell her to go back to Midvale.

Eliza: That’s a shame. How about that beach cafe you rave about so much?

Emma snorts at her Mom’s text.

Emma: Mom, I rave about a lot of beach cafés…

Eliza: Is that sarcasm I detect?

Emma: Noooo

Eliza: Anyway, you choose sweetheart, I am ready when you are. Just let me know when you are leaving.

Emma: Great! Give me 15 mins!

Emma quickly places her phone on the bed and races to the walk-in wardrobe, having had her shower the night before she waited for Lena to come home.

Suddenly the room spins and warps around her. Emma closes her eyes, waiting for the moment to pass. Thankfully it does and she continues her task. Choosing blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt with gold stars on and a black hoodie. She stuffs her feet into black converses and grabs her phone, texting her Mom and places it into her messenger bag.

Emma: Just leaving now.

But as Emma heads for the door she notices a piece of paper on the island. Intrigued, she zips over, banging her knee into the corner of the unit. Unknowingly cracking the hard unit slightly.

‘Mother fucker!’ Emma’s mind screams as she rubs her knee before focusing on Lena’s handwriting.

‘Good Morning my love,

I’m sorry for leaving you like this but I have to go into work. I will hopefully be able to come to the bowling alley. If not, please apologise to Nia and give her a hug from me.

All my love, Lena x’

Emma lets out a voiceless sigh, she knew Lena was not in the apartment, but seeing the proof frustrates her. Disappointment in her girlfriend starts to creep in, she hopes Lena can make it to the bowling alley, not for her, but for Nia. Who has been bouncing around like a puppy with how much she was looking forward to spending time with the Superfriends to celebrate her birthday.

Due to Lena’s connections they’ve managed to hire a VIP private room with a few lanes, meaning once they are through the doors they don't need to have any face modifiers activated.

Because of Lena’s note, Emma grabs Nia’s birthday gifts and card, just in case Emma doesn’t return to the apartment before the party.

Her phone bleeps and Emma quickly takes it out as she exits the apartment.

Eliza: Okay Sweetheart! Drive safe!

Emma rolls her eyes at her Mom’s message and resists sending a sarcastic comment back. Instead she smiles down at her phone while she enters the elevator and activates her face modifier. She chooses a face with a beauty mark like Marilyn Monroe and she can’t help but pull a sexy pout while studying the new face in the mirror of the elevator.

Soon the doors open into the garage level and Emma approaches the L-Car, while mournfully staring at her bug. She gets into the car Lena designed for her and drives to her Mom’s apartment.

Eventually she pulls up outside Eliza’s building and finds her Mom is already waiting outside, with J’onn by her side. They haven’t noticed her arrival as they continue talking. Emma watches them with interest, noticing the smiles on their faces and how close they are standing while facing each other. Her eyes lower and widen at the realisation that they are holding hands.

Emma gets out her phone and records a short video of the pair interacting, zooming in on their joined hands before turning the camera on herself and raising an eyebrow. Immediately she sends the video to her sister’s group chat and another to Lena.

Emma: Morning love! Hope work is going okay? So… Picking up Mom for brunch and I’ve come across this… I don’t know how to feel… I want to squeal in happiness and simultaneously wretch! Oh Rao… We’re gonna have to give him the shovel talk aren’t we? 😬

Suddenly there is a knock on the passenger window, making Emma jump in her seat. Looking over she realises her Mom is standing by the door, waiting to be let in and Emma unlocks the door.

���Morning Sweetheart.” Eliza says while  sliding into the car and gives her youngest daughter a tight hug.

When they part, Emma looks around for J’onn.

“Oh he’s already left, doesn't want the shovel talk just yet.” Eliza jokes as she puts on her seat belt, Emma tilts her head, wondering how he would know that. “He heard your thoughts as you were messaging your sisters and Lena.”

Emma snorts and shakes her head, of course J’onn would have heard her. She  drives the car away from the pavement and back into the traffic. The pair stay in comfortable silence as they listen to the radio with Emma tapping along to the beat. Eliza has been learning some sign language but knows Emma won’t be able to communicate while driving the car.

About half an hour later they pull into a car park by a very long beach and Emma grabs her phone to communicate with her Mom. She sees multiple messages from her sisters but decides she will look at them later. Instead opening the notes app and writing a message out for her Mom.

‘Do you mind walking 20 minutes to the café? I can see if there are more spaces near it, but they are generally full.’

Emma shows her typed out words to her Mom.

“Of course sweetheart! I know I’m old, but I’m not that old!”

Emma shakes her head in amusement. Not liking the thoughts of how her Mom is growing older, that her blonde hair is getting lighter and more lines are appearing on her face.

As Eliza goes to pull the handle on the door Emma stops her, causing Eliza to look back at her daughter.

“Sweetheart?”

Emma circles her face, indicating she needs to engage her face modifier.

“Oh! Of course!” Eliza quickly taps her temple and her face morphs into another.

Emma silently sighs as they both get out of the car, hoping the face modifiers can be made obsolete soon. When Emma closes the door she stumbles slightly as the world spins but she manages to catch herself on the car. She looks over at her Mom, but luckily it seems like she doesn’t notice.

“So! Which way do we go?” Eliza asks as she links her arm with Emma. Her daughter points down to the path leading down to the beach and the pair walk in sync along the coast.

Both breathe in the salty sea air and enjoy watching the waves as they gently crash against the shore.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful the sea is.” Eliza comments and Emma nods in agreement. The colours were especially beautiful today, more turquoise than blue.

“Do you remember the amount of times you’d drag us down to the beach? How you wanted to go, even when it was raining?” Eliza smiles brightly at her daughter and Emma nods. Remembering the amount of pictures showing Alex and Jeremiah sat together while Emma enjoyed being in the sea. “And then once you found out about surfing, that was it! Your Dad and Alex put their foot down when you wanted to go all the time.”

Unable to respond Emma just smiles at the memories and the utter thrill she felt when she managed to catch her first wave. How her parents cheered and Alex tried to look unimpressed, but her eyes gave her away that she indeed was impressed and proud of her sister.

Eliza continues reminiscing as they walk towards the beach hut café Lena and Emma had gone to a few weeks ago.

“Oh this looks wonderful!” Eliza says as she steps through the door and follows Emma to a free table by the window. Eliza sits and takes in the beach decor of the cafe. The white walls and ceiling with the wooded furniture and beach elements in the decoration.

Emma grabs her phone and types out a message for her. ‘Yea Lena and I love it here.’

“I can see why.”

Their waitress comes over and greets them, handing them menus for them to look over.

“What drinks can I get ya?” The waitress pulls a pencil from behind her ear.

“Oh a pot of tea for me and-” Eliza looks over at Emma who points at an apple juice and a bottle of water.

“Great! I’ll get those for you and leave you to decide on y’all food.”

“Thank you.” Eliza watches the waitress go before turning back to her masked daughter. Who sits looking out of the window and even though her daughter’s face is hidden, Eliza can see something isn’t right “So, how are you sweetheart?”

Emma picks up her phone and starts typing.

‘I’m okay, nervous about the surgery but also excited. I miss talking to you.’

“And I miss hearing your voice.” Eliza reaches out and takes Emma’s hand. “But whatever happens I’ll be here to take care of you. Even if we need to go home and get some of that mountain air into you.”

Emma smiles at the thought of going back to Midvale. She goes to type her reponse when a message from Alex pops up.

Alex: Emma answer me!

Alarmed Emma opens their group chat and starts from the beginning of the thread where Emma sent the video.

Kara: Wait what?!

Alex: When did this happen?!

Emma snorts as she reads through the continuous back and forth between her two sisters as they try to piece together their Mom’s relationship with J’onn and how they felt about it. Ranging from many different emotions, Kara seemingly being more accepting, while Alex pleads Emma for more information and her location.

“Kara and Alex?” Eliza chuckles as she watches Emma’s expressions as she reads. Emma nods and grins back at her in confirmation.

Emma: Sorry I’m with Mom atm and didn’t see your hundreds of messages.

Kara: Where?

Emma: In a café ☕️

Alex: Which cafe?

Emma: Not telling 😜

Emma places her phone back on the table as the waitress comes over with the drinks. The pair order their food and Eliza can’t help but notice how Emma’s phone keeps lighting up.

“What’s that about?”

Emma hesitates but clicks on the video she recorded of her Mom and J’onn.

“Emma!” Eliza’s eyes widen as she watches. “Did you send that to your sisters?”

Emma nods guilty.

“Oh well.” Eliza takes a sip of her tea. “I did think you all already knew something, Sam and Lena seemed to have cotton on.”

Emma tilts her head and tries to remember any conversations she had with Lena about this topic. But she comes up empty.

“Oh what a surprise!” Eliza places her cup down and smiles over at the door.

Emma twists in her seat to see Alex rushing through the doorway with her phone in hand and Kara standing right behind her.

“Look! All I’m saying is that tracking Emma’s phone feels like an invasion of privacy.” Kara whispers as they move further into the cafe.

“She’s with Mom, it’s fine.” Alex snaps back and notices the table with two blondes. One beaming at her and the other looking confused. The redhead quickly marches over and sits next to, who she presumes, is Emma. Kara drops into the chair next to Eliza and straightens her glasses.

“What a nice surprise! I thought you said you were busy this morning?”

“Plans change.” Alex quips back.

“They sure do, are you joining us for brunch?”

“Do you want us to?” Kara looks directly at Emma, knowing they are taking her time away with Eliza. Emma nods and shrugs, signaling she was okay with it. “Okay, I’ll get some menus and drinks.”

“Make mine a scotch.” Alex calls after her and turns back to her Mom. “So, how long has it been going on?”

“Alex.” Eliza tiredly sighs. “We are just enjoying each other's company and supporting one another through this time.”

“But why him?” Alex asks in frustration.

“Why not him? We’ve been through so much together and I know he views you as his daughters.”

“Makes sense.” Kara places two mugs of coffee on the table and the menus. “The waitress will be over in a second and will bring our food out together.”

The table falls silent as Alex and Kara look over the menu while Emma’s eyes glance between her family, surprised by Alex’s simmering hostility.

The waitress comes back over and the sisters order. The waitress turns to go but pauses and turns back around. “I don't mean to be rude but aren't you Emma Danvers’ sisters?”

“Erm-” Kara’s eyes go wide when they realise their mistake of not activating the face modifiers.

“Don’t worry, we won’t say anything! It’s a pleasure! Also, when you see Emma, please tell her we miss her and look forward to serving her again.” The waitress beams at them before heading to the kitchen to process their order.

Touched by her comment Emma’s eyes begin to fill with tears and she looks out of the window at the sea to hide them from her family. But she misses the knowing expressions on their faces.

“So.” Alex clears her throat and focuses on her Mom. “Is it serious?”

“I would like it to be.” Eliza says honestly, making Emma wipe her face and turn back to look at her.

“But what about Dad?” The redhead says quietly, almost sounding vulnerable, as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Alex, in some ways, I will always love your father, despite everything that happened. But he’s gone and we had spoken that if anything ever happened to either one of us we would want the other to move on. For a very long time I didn’t feel at all able to, but I’ve finally got to the stage where I finally feel like I can.”

Emma sucks in her bottom lip and reaches out for her Mom’s hand. She nods and gives her Mom an encouraging smile, giving her blessing on the matter.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Eliza places her other hand over her daughter’s.

“When did it start?” Kara asks, blinking at her family as if trying to make sense of it.

“For me, I’ve always-” Eliza pauses, trying to find the right words for her daughters. She feels Emma gently squeezing her hand in reassurance. Eliza takes a deep breath and continues. “I’ve always liked him, in either form.” A small, sweet smile plays across her lips, Emma mirrors it as she watches her Mom closely.

“But when did it start?” Alex asks sternly, causing both Kara and Emma to give her a hard look.

“Girls, it's fine.” Eliza lets go of Emma’s hand and motions for Alex to give her her hand. But Alex keeps her arms crossed. Eliza sighs before continuing. “The truth is, our relationship developed while you all were still in the DEO. I mean, everyone had been so kind and welcoming, Nia especially made sure I always had a drink or she’d give me these little cakes from the bakery I like. Brainy, bless him, seemed at times unable to process what he was feeling. At one point I came into the lab and he was just so-” Eliza lifts her hands and motions them forward to emphasise the words. “Angry. I held him as he wept for the three of you. In some ways I fell into the Mom role for all of them. Sam likes to think she was the Mom too, but there were times I had to remind her to take care of herself.”

“And then there was J’onn. He saw the pain I was in and was the one who held me, told me that everything was going to be alright and we’d get through it together.” Eliza’s eyes mist over with tears. “For the first time, in a long time, I felt safe as he held me in his arms and the feelings we have for each other grew. We understood each other, our pain at our daughters' situations and the love between us grew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kara asks curiously.

“It wasn’t really the right time.” Eliza’s mind shoots back to when Kara and Alex had been imprisoned in their cells. The hatred burning in their glowing red eyes and the agony within Emma’s bloodshot ones.

“Or after that?” Alex asks, trying to process what she is feeling.

“Maybe, selfishly, I wanted to have this to myself for a while. Because I knew you’d react this way.”

Alex’s nostrils flare and she leans forward. “Well maybe if you had been honest in the first place-”

Emma’s hand on her arm cuts her off and she turns to angrily glare at her.

“No, Em! Mom should have told us.”

“You’re right.” Eliza’s words make her daughters’ heads snap to her. “I should have told you, but I didn’t. However, now you know.”

“Please Alex, Mom deserves to be happy.” Emma pleads.

“I agree.” Kara softly says and places her hand on Eliza’s shoulder.

Before Alex can say anything the waitress comes over with their food. They start eating with the tension simmering between them.

“I’m sorry.” Alex murmurs quietly, her head down as she cuts her food.

“I know.” Eliza reaches across the table and takes Alex’s hand “And I am too. I know how much you still love your Dad and that will never change.”

Emma places her hand on Alex’s arm, completely understanding what her sister was feeling but also wanting her Mom to be happy.

“Soo, talking of love.” Kara begins, trying to steer the subject away from Eliza but soon loses her nerves as three pairs of eyes focus on her. “Erm-”

“Someone caught your eye?” Emma signs and raises an eyebrow at her sister.

“Maybe.” Kara giggles shyly.

“Who?” Alex widens her eyes slightly. “That new guy working with James?”

“What new guy working with James?!” Emma signs to both of her sisters and looks at her Mom in disbelief.

“His name is Benvolio Rossi, Ben for short, he was named after his Grandpa who migrated over from Italy and Ben moved here a few months from New York. I saw him around the office but didn’t talk to him until recently. Well, Nia kind of pushed me over to him and we ended up chatting, flirting and getting coffee.” A shy, beaming smile grows on Kara’s face.

“Picture?!” Emma signs excitedly and claps her hands.

“Okay!” Kara pulls out her phone and goes onto Ben’s facebook profile. “Here he is.” She turns the phone around.

“Eh.” Alex shrugs half heartedly and shoves in a mouthful of food.

“Alex!” Kara yells at her sister.

“What I’m a lesbian! Man things don’t do it for me.”

Emma snorts and motions Kara for her phone, so she can look at the picture properly. She tilts her head as she studies his face, feeling a sense of familiarity as she looks at him.

His olive skin glowed in the sun and his face was chiseled and handsome with shiny black hair, groomed stubble and warm brown eyes.

“Em?” Kara asks, intrigued by the curious expression on her sister's face. Emma hands the phone to Eliza who also wants to look.

“Oh he’s handsome.” Eliza exclaims. “Wow!”

“Yea.” Kara says with a goofy smile. “But-” Kara turns back to Emma. “Why were you looking at the picture like that?”

“I feel like I’ve met him before. Was he press at the gigs?”

“Well he does everything but, yea, I imagine he would have been at some of your gigs.”

“Cool! What’s he like?”

The conversations soon flow onto Kara’s new crush as the Danvers eat their meal.

-- -- --

Time passes and the family realise they need to be leaving soon to get to Nia’s bowling birthday party.

“Shall we go together?” Emma signs as they exit the cafe.

“Sure.” Alex says and holds out her hand for the keys. “But I’m driving.”

Emma looks at her scandalised and backs away from her eldest sister. “Excuse me?! I’m a better driver than you!”

Alex stalks her as Kara and Eliza link arms, trailing behind them and chatting amongst themselves.

“Don’t be so ridiculous! I’ve been trained-”

“Whoop de doo!” Emma holds her hands up.

“I can’t believe you actually just signed that!”

Emma shrugs. “Are you forgetting that I had two minors on my driving test and you had fourteen?! I still wonder how you managed to convince that poor man of passing you.” Emma signs cheekily and quickly lifts her top slightly with a raised eyebrow and sticks her tongue out to the side.

“Oh now you’ve done it!” Alex yells and Emma immediately turns around and runs after seeing the spark in her sister’s eyes.

“Run Emma!” Kara yells as Alex chases after her, both laughing as Emma dodges her attempts at catching her.

“Those two.” Eliza chuckles and shakes her head as she watches her daughters jump down onto the beach, sand flying everywhere from their chase.

Eliza turns her head to look at Kara, who watches her blonde and redheaded sisters with a big grin and laughs along with them.

“So, Ben, does he know anything?”

“No.” Kara says quickly. “I mean, there was one incident.”

“Kara!”

“Okay, maybe four.” Kara admits and quickly continues talking. “But they were completely out of my control and I don’t think he knows anything.”

“Does Alex know about these ‘incidences’?”

“No…”

They both look over and watch as finally Alex manages to grab a hold of Emma while the blonde slips on a sand mound and Alex jumps on her back, wrapping her arms around Emma’s shoulders.

“Onward valet steed!” Alex yells and points at the path.

Emma blows out a breath of amusement and trots back up to Kara and her Mom, glad that she could take Alex’s weight.

“How far away is the car?” Alex asks her Mom with a grin.

“Well after you're messing about, probably ten minutes.”

“Ah kay. Peanut let me down.”

Emma answers by shaking her head as she starts walking and tightening her grip on Alex’s thighs.

“Em-ma!” Alex laughs as Emma picks up her speed and runs further down the path.

-- -- --

Soon the Danvers are pulling into the carpark outside of the massive bowling alley and Emma can’t help but feel excitement as she gets out of the L-Car.

She quickly double checks everyone has their face modifiers activated, which Emma can’t wait to deactivate when they enter their private room.

“Ready?” Eliza says, smiling at her daughters.

“Yup!” Kara bounces on her toes and grins happily.

When they approach the doors Emma winces at the overwhelming sound of the bowling balls slamming the pins.

‘Why’s it so loud?’ Emma thinks but tries to hide her discomfort from her family. The blonde zeros in on Kara who also looks slightly pained. Emma then focuses on Kara’s glasses and realises the damper isn’t turned on. Reaching over she presses the hidden button to turn them on and Kara visibly deflates in relief.

“Thanks Em.” Kara breathes out.

“You’re welcome.” Emma signs and wishes there was a similar device for humans as she can’t help but flinch when they enter the building.

“Hello ladies!” A man greets them at the desk.

“Hi! We’re here for Princess Leia’s birthday party.” Alex informs the clerk with the hidden codename, who nods and waves over one of his colleagues.

“My colleague here will escort you to your room. Have a great time!”

“Thanks!” Kara squeals happily and follows the clerk up towards some stairs that are roped off and being guarded by security personnel.

Emma raises her eyebrow slightly at Alex as they pass them. Knowing they were Lena’s doing to make sure no members of the public will intrude on the Superfriends and messing with Emma’s timeline of recovery.

The most recent post to Emma’s social media accounts were of staged physiotherapy sessions, showing Emma slowly walking between the rails. So to have any other photos of Emma moving around more freely would cause a media frenzy that no one wanted to face.

Lucy had sent strict instructions to all the Superfriends that photos can be taken but they will have to wait to be posted.

“Here we are!” The clerk leads them to the doors where another security guard is standing by. “Shoes should already be in there plus many different balls for you to choose from.”

Emma lets out two quick breaths of laughter, causing Eliza to tap her shoulder in disapproval. Which makes both Alex and Kara chuckle while they walk through the doors.

Once inside the room Emma turns around and signs with a smirk on her face. “Balls!” Making her sisters laugh louder.

“You’re here!” Nia rushes over to them and flings her arms around Kara. “Isn’t this amazing?!”

Emma looks past Nia and has to agree, the room was an upgraded version to the main area downstairs. It almost looked brand new and was filled with tables of food and drink.

“Kara, save some for later.” Eliza instructs in a motherly tone as Kara makes her way over to the feast.

“O-kay.” Kara pouts and rushes over to grab their shoes instead.

“Oh! And Emma?” Nia beams at the blonde when their eyes connect. “Please disengage your face mask immediately!”

Emma nods and taps her temple. The Superfriends cheer and immediately Emma enjoys the freeing feeling on her face when the modifier disappears.

“That’s sooo much better!” Nia opens her arms wide and Emma beams at the brunette while she gives her a hug. When they pull apart Emma notices that her family have disengaged theirs too.

But then Emma’s eyes search around the room for Lena.

‘Where is she?’ Emma worries when she can’t find her girlfriend.

“Sam said Lena was right behind her, so she should be here any minute.” J’onn answers and takes an apprehensive step towards the blonde.

‘Hi J’onn.’ Emma thinks coolly, her smile fades as she crosses her arms and sizes him up.

J’onn hesitates for a moment until Emma’s face breaks out into a grin and she holds her arms out to him.

‘Come here!’ Emma’s mind happily yells out.

J’onn laughs in relief and wraps her in a bear hug.

‘But seriously though, you hurt my Mom and I will hunt you down! Even if you go back to Mars or something!’ Emma threatens while still in his arms.

“I promise I won’t hurt her.” J’onn whispers gently in her ear.

‘Pinky.’ Emma demands, stepping back and holding out her pinky finger.

“I pinky promise.” J’onn says seriously and wraps his big pinky finger around Emma’s.

“What you pinky promising about?” Kara asks as she bounds over to them to give J’onn a hug.

“Well, that I won’t hurt your mother.”

“Yea cause if you do I will fling you into the sun!” Kara says seriously and Alex comes to stand by her side.

“Or I kill you with said pinky.” Alex threatens while drinking a beer.

“Alex!” Emma signs and rolls her eyes at the bottle.

“What?! It’s my day off and it's past lunch time!”

Emma shakes her head and goes to collect her bowling shoes. She frowns when the only pairs left are her and Lena’s.

Reaching into her bag Emma pulls her phone out and still sees no messages from her girlfriend.

“So, shall we wait a little longer or get started? We have the room for five more hours, meaning plenty of games of bowling.” Brainy asks everyone as he rubs his hands together. Allowing his feelings of glee to come through.

“Yea, why don’t we start and we can always bowl for Lena until she arrives.” Nia smiles at everyone and races over to the scoring computer to input everyone's names. Kara follows her as they debate whether to use their real names or make nicknames up for everyone.

“If she comes.” Sam mutters under her breath as she angrily pulls her phone out. Both Kara and Emma turn their heads to stare at her in confusion, not quite believing what they heard. Surely Lena wouldn’t miss this?

“Emma, have you chosen a ball yet?” Lucy asks, making Emma jump by her sudden appearance.

The blonde shakes her head and goes over to the rack where the bowling balls are kept.

Emma looks for a ten pound bowling ball, the kind she normally uses and finds a cool looking purple and black one. Emma reaches down and prepares herself to pick it up, not wanting to twinge a muscle for not lifting the heavy ball properly.

Only when Emma puts her fingers through the holes and pulls, she overcompensates, hitting herself in the chest and crashes backwards onto the floor with the ball in her lap.

“Em?!” Alex’s voice shouts as she rushes over to Emma, still sat dazed on the floor, with Sam right behind her. “Are you okay?”

Emma nods, feeling a bit shocked and embarrassed. A blush starts colouring her cheeks as the Superfriends turn to look at her in concern.

“I’m fine. Just being clumsy.” Emma signs, trying to laugh it off and goes to get up.

“Here.” Alex grabs the bowling ball and holds it while Sam helps Emma up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies the blonde’s face.

Emma gulps but nods that she was indeed okay. “Just embarrassed for causing a scene.”

“Alright.” Sam nods as well before smiling and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Ready to be beaten Danvers?”

Emma snorts and kicks her leg up behind them to hit Sam’s butt.

“Hey!” Sam yells and does it back to Emma. The blonde lets out a heavy breath of voiceless laughter.

Alex grins and shakes her head while she places Emma’s ball on the rack by the ball return and laughs at her girlfriend. “I think Em was saying no.”

“Are we bowling as teams or individuals?” James asks as he goes to pick up his bowling ball and looks up at the screen with the names on.

On team one: Nia is Dreamgirl, Brainy is Brainakins, Kara is Glasses, Emma is Stargirl, Sam is Hotmama and Lena is Irish babe.

On team two: James is He-man, Winn is Futureboy, Eliza is Aurora, J’onn is Martitan, Alex is Director of Sass and Lucy is Army Green.

“Why not both?” Eliza offers and smiles when she sees the name she has been given. “See which lane is better but also amongst ourselves in general?”

“I like that idea.” J’onn agrees.

“Of course you would.” Alex grunts before taking a swig of her beer. Only to splutter when Emma digs her elbow into her side.

“Nia? You’re first up on our team!” Kara points at the screen and everyone cheers. Emma claps her hands loudly to make enough noise. “Go Dreamgirl!”

“And remember, no powers!” Lucy orders from the stool by the computer and picks up James’ camera to take some photos.

“Yes ma’am.” Nia nods as she grabs her ball.

“You ready Dreamgirl?” James playfully taunts Nia.

“Bring it He-Man!” Nia grins back at him while lining herself up.

They both go at the same time and the game begins. Laughter, whoops and cheers fill the room as pins crash to the floor.

Kara completely misses on her first try due to the red sun dampers.

“I can put the rails up if you want?” Lucy jokes cheekily.

“No thanks, just need to get used to it.” Kara huffs out and shakes her hands. Her second attempt was much better and Emma claps loudly for her.

Next it was Emma’s turn and she makes sure not to overcompensate this time when she picks the ball up.

“Go Emma!” Lucy cheers and the blonde gets herself into position and aims.

Emma takes a few deep breaths and steps forward, releasing the ball at the lowest point. It shoots from her hand like a cannonball and knocks down all the pins.

Emma jumps up and down in excitement and the Superfriends cheer loudly behind her.

“Well done sweetheart!” Eliza pulls her into a hug. “Just how Dad taught you.”

Emma nods and goes back to sit down. Her eyes flick to the door, wishing Lena had seen her first strike. Naturally her hand reaches for her phone. She silently sighs when there are no messages or responses from her girlfriend.

Emma: Hi Lee, guess what?! I just did a strike! Your name is on the board, so you can start playing when you get here ❤️

Emma also takes a photo of Sam about to play her shot to send to Lena. Hoping this will cause some kind of response.

But her phone doesn’t bleep, causing Emma to run a hand through her hair.

“Hey, I’m sure she’s okay.” Alex notices Emma’s concern and tries to reassure her. But also looks over at Kara, silently communicating with her. Kara nods and gets up to bowl.

“Alex?” J’onn pulls the redhead’s attention away from Emma. “It’s your turn.”

“Yea! Go Director of Ass!” Sam winks at her girlfriend, causing Alex's cheeks to blush.

It soon gets to Lena’s name and everyone allows Nia to take Lena’s go and do her own.

They play seven more frames and when it gets to Lena’s name again everyone pauses.

“Kara? Do you wanna have another go instead?” Nia asks, trying not to show her disappointment.

“Er, sure! But please excuse me, I’m going to use the bathroom.” Kara squeezes out of the booth and rushes to the door leading to the restrooms.

Emma doesn't think anything of it until the door opens again and Emma turns her head to see a wind swept Lena walking in front of Kara. Emma's eyes move up and down her girlfriend’s body and takes in Lena’s fitted maroon coloured dress with black high heels.

Their eyes connect and they both feel a rush of giddiness.

“Finally!” Sam shouts as she places her hands on her hips, cutting off their moment as Lena’s eyes snap to her best friend. Causing everyone else to look over to where Sam was looking.

“Lena!” Nia squeals and rushes over to the raven haired beauty.

“Sorry Nia.” Lena apologises while they hug.

“Don’t worry about it. Contracts blurgh!” Nia gags and giggles.

“Exactly!” Lena laughs and follows Nia into the booth. She immediately sits next to Emma and kisses her lips. “Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up love.”

Emma shrugs and flattens parts of Lena’s hair that's still a bit messy from her flight over, making her girlfriend laugh.

“Thanks!” Lena chuckles and looks up at the names on the scoreboard. “I’m guessing your Stargirl?” Emma nods proudly. “Wow love. You’ve got a strike on almost every go?”

“I know?! I don’t know how.” Emma signs happily. “I even managed with a heavier ball!” Although for Emma it didn’t feel much heavier, even though it was meant to be six pounds heavier.

“Well your arms are getting more toned.” Lena nudges her shoulder into Emma’s. She had noticed Emma’s body changing and put it down to the running and weight training Emma is doing to fill her time.

A familiar twinge of regret hits Lena’s stomach at how busy she has been lately. ‘It won’t be forever.’ Lena thinks, trying to reassure herself.

Lena breaks her out of her thoughts by Emma flexing her arm and raising an eyebrow at Lena, causing a rich laugh to burst out from the raven haired beauty’s lips.

This heavenly sound makes Emma’s heart flutter and she beams sweetly at the woman she loves.

“Lena? It’s your go. Unless you want me to take it for you?” Kara asks and points at the scoreboard.

“Oh sorry!” Lena apologises and looks up at the board. “Who chose Irish Babe?” She laughs as Kara and Nia point at each other. “Right, I better get my ball and shoes.” Lena places her hand on Emma’s thigh and goes to stand up, but Emma takes her hand, stopping her from moving.

“I got them for you.” Emma pulls them up from under the bench and hands the shoes to Lena. “Also I got you a size eight ball but there is also a nine if you’d rather use that one.”

“Thanks love.” Lena places a gentle kiss on Emma’s lips. After she immediately kicks her heels off and goes to put her shoes on. Suddenly a pair of neon lime green socks appear in front of her face. “You think these socks go with this outfit?” Lena questions Emma who pouts out her lips and nods.

“I mean the shoes go exquisitely as well!” Emma signs, making Lena chuckle and puts them on anyway. Everyone wolf whistles when she gets up to bowl making Lena break out in a huge smile.

“Looking mighty fine there Luthor!” Sam hollers in a southern accent, causing everyone to burst out laughing and Lena to stare back at Sam in a mock glare.

Lena bowls and manages to get a spare. Emma claps enthusiastically when the last pin tumbles to the ground.

Lena smiles as she heads back into the booth, giving everyone high fives. Sitting down she snuggles into Emma, who wraps an arm around her waist and they watch the Superfriends bowl. Lena cheers along with everyone and takes a few deep breaths. Ridding herself of her work anxiety that had no place in the bowling alley.

They play a few more games before having a break to eat.

“Finally!” Kara yells dramatically and zooms over to the table. Emma is sure that if the sun red dampers weren’t on, Kara would have flown over.

“Kara!” Both Alex and Eliza yell in disapproval at Kara running to get the food.

“Sorry! I’m just hungry!” Kara whines while piling the food on her plate.

“Hey! Leave some for us Kara!” Winn calls across to her, making Kara squint her eyes at him.

The Superfriends get their food and sit together at a table set out for them and eat. Laughing and chatting about anything and everything. James takes a few photos before Lucy takes the camera off him to give him a chance to eat.

“Hey Lena! Em!” Lucy positions herself across from the couple and aims the camera.

The girlfriends smile widely at her and wrap an arm around each other's waist.

“Beautiful!” Lucy comments and keeps taking pictures as Lena kisses Emma’s cheek and the blonde beams at the camera. Emma turns her head and softly kisses Lena’s lips.

“Hey hey! Keep it under the R rating please!” Lucy says seriously and Emma flips her off.

A few of the Superfriends laugh and Emma smirks at Lena before pressing their foreheads together. They both close their eyes and breath deeply in.

Soon mostly everyone has finished eating and Brainy stands.

“Shall we play some more games?” Brainy asks, looking around at his friends.

“Yes please!” Nia squeals and runs back to the booth. Everyone follows other than Winn and James.

Emma and Lena sit close together and Emma goes to take a sip from her cup.

Suddenly the lights go off, causing Emma to violently jump, spilling her drink down her top.

“Happy-” Winn starts singing and everyone else joins in as he brings the cake over with lit candles. “Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Nia! Happy birthday to you!”

Emma tries to smile as everyone sings, instead she lets out a long, heavy breath. She jumps again as Lena places a comforting hand on her thigh.

“Sorry love.” Lena whispers into her ear as the lights come back on.

“Emma! What happened to you?!” James laughs as he notices Emma’s wet, brown t-shirt.

Emma shrugs and looks down embarrassed. Missing the glares some of the Superfriends send to James. Lena grabs some napkins and tries to dry the worst of it.

“Who wants some yummy cake!” Lucy claps to draw the attention away from the blonde and goes to get the knife.

“Oo me!” Kara raises a hand and bounces in her seat like a nine year old kid.

“I’m sure the question was rhetorical Kar.” Alex snorts in amusement.

“Yea, but I want cake.” Kara shrugs with a grin.

Emma tries to smile as well but she finds herself rocking slightly as she tries to calm her racing heart.

“You’re okay.” Lena's calming voice whispers into her ear. “You’re safe. You’re with me and people who love you. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Emma nods, resting her head on Lena’s shoulder and nuzzles into her neck. Trying to seek comfort and feel safe.

If the Superfriends notice they don’t say anything about it or draw attention to Emma, leaving Lena to help Emma though her trigger as they share the cake around.

When Emma sits back up, looking less pale, Nia hands their plates with pieces of cake over.

“Thank you.” Emma signs gratefully and digs in, trying not to focus on her embarrassment at what happened.

Once the food is eaten and cleared away the bowling begins again. Although the group of friends are not as quick as before but still as competitive.

“Seriously Emma!” Lucy yells when Emma does another perfect strike. “You need to show me your technique or something.”

Emma holds her hands up in surprise and just motions her bowling.

“Nah I’m not fooling around anymore with this ‘I can’t bowl’ act!”

Emma can’t help but voicelessly laugh at Lucy’s competitive side making itself known.

“Ooo, she’s laughing at you Luc.” Alex grins at her sister.

Emma holds her hands up again in surrender at Lucy’s enraged face.

“Hey relax.” Kara tries to soothe the brunette down and rubs her back affectionately. “It’s all about the fun of playing.”

A few nod but suddenly everyone bursts out laughing and continues for a while. The Superfriends never play just for the fun of it. Mostly everyone in the group are extremely competitive.

“Good one Kara!” Winn wipes the tears from his cheeks.

-- -- --

Finally they complete their last game and Emma is the clear winner. Although she is still very confused at how she managed it but takes the praise.

The food and cake is distributed into takeaway boxes and the Superfriends say their goodbyes and birthday love to Nia. With Emma and Lena being the first to leave.

“Do you need a ride?” Emma signs to Alex.

“No, Sam is- I’m, er, going with Sam.” Alex stutters and goes a bit red as she smiles shyly. Causing Emma to smirk and shake her head.

“Yea, my director of ass.” Sam whispers into her girlfriend's ear.

This makes Emma snort and sign at her sister. “Use protection.” Emma winks.

“Protection? Protection from what?” Kara asks after watching Emma’s hands.

Emma snorts loudly again but Lena drags her away before she can hear anyone's responses.

“Modifier.” Lena yawns before they go through the door and waves farewell to everyone. Emma taps her temple, shivering slightly as the mask crawls across her face.

The couple walk down the stairs hand in hand and out into the evening air. Emma leads her girlfriend to the L-Car and opens the passenger door for her.

“Thanks love.” Somehow, despite her exhaustion, Lena still slides gracefully into the car, even with her drooping eyelids.

Emma gets into the driver's seat and leans over to plug her girlfriend in. A hum of acknowledgement leaves Lena’s lips and her eyes finally close.

Emma can’t help but smile at how cute she looks and turns the electric engine on to head for home.

-- -- --

In no time at all they are pulling into their space under the apartment building. Lena looks like she’s already in a deep sleep and Emma wonders if she can carry her up to their apartment.

Remembering how easy it was to piggyback Alex, Emma decides to go for it. She quietly unplugs Lena’s seatbelt and gets out of the driver's side. Emma quickly goes to Lena’s side and carefully opens the passenger door, hoping Lena wouldn’t fall out, but thankfully she hasn’t moved.

Leaning down Emma attentively runs her right arm under Lena’s legs and her left under her back. She manages to lift Lena and the bag of food, carrying her girlfriend bridal style out of the car. Carefully she heads for the elevator, thankfully that the L-Car locks automatically when the keyholder walks far enough away from the car.

Somehow she manages to press the button to call the elevator and again for the penthouse apartment.

‘Nice one Emma!’ She praises herself and kisses Lena’s head when the doors close.

However, once the elevator doors slide open, Emma voicelessly groans. She exits the elevator, debating what to do to unlock the door and open it.

“You know you could just put me down?” Lena says sleepily as she blinks her eyes open.

‘Of course you're awake!’ Emma rolls her eyes and gazes down at her girlfriend.

“Well?” Lena asks with a yawn, waiting to be put down.

“Get my key.” Emma mouths, causing Lena to squint up at her.

“Get your key?” Lena says back and Emma nods. “Where is it?”

“Bag.”

Lena reacts down to Emma’s messenger bag by her side.

“You know this would be a lot quicker if you just put me down.”

Emma shrugs and grins happily, liking the sensation of holding Lena close.

“Got it!” Lena pulls it out and stretches for the lock. Emma moves a bit forward to make it easier for her. “Thanks love.” Lena yawns out again and unlocks the door, partly opening it.

Emma kicks it open fully and manages to step through before it swings back.

“Impressive.” Lena chuckles while nuzzling into Emma’s chest and closing her eyes.

Emma lets out a voiceless laugh and carries Lena into the bathroom.

“No, just dump me on the bed!” Lena whines but doesn’t complain when Emma places her feet on the tiled floor and pulls her dress up and underwear down. “Ooo kinky.” Lena says seductively while cracking an eye open as Emma guides her onto the toilet.

Emma shakes her head with a smile at Lena’s comment and goes to grab Lena’s pajamas and a fresh pair of underwear.

She hears the flush and Lena whining out her name.

“Em-ma!”

‘Le-na!’ Emma yells back in her head but she quickly makes her way back to her girlfriend, who was sleepily brushing her teeth.

Emma closes the lid on the toilet and places Lena’s clothes on top, Lena watches her every move and as Emma begins to sign. “We are staying in bed tomorrow. No excuses!”

Lena clears her mouth and places her toothbrush back on the counter. “Bed all day? Lucky me.” Lena says sultry and lifts an eyebrow.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Not like that you bad girl.”

“Hmm but you’d want me to be your bad girl huh?” Lena slowly tilts her head and leans in, kissing Emma’s lips slowly and passionately. Emma could taste the fresh mint of the toothpaste on Lena’s tongue.

But Lena soon breaks the kiss, closes her bloodshot eyes and rests her weary head on Emma’s shoulder.

Emma carefully bends down and grabs the clothes so she can place Lena back on the toilet lid. She lovingly changes Lena’s clothes and kisses any exposed skin that she comes across, making Lena hum and smile.

Once Lena is changed Emma reaches down and picks her up again. Attentively carrying her over to their bed. Next she pulls the covers back and carefully places Lena on the bed and tucks her in.

Lena hums sleepily in approval but doesn’t open her eyes or makes any other movement or noise. Seemingly falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Emma smiles down at her sadly and kisses her forehead.

“Hope, dim the lights to the lowest setting.” Emma signs to the AI before reentering the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.

After she’s brushed her teeth and hair, dressed in her tank top and shorts, Emma quietly tiptoes back into the bedroom. The corner of her lip pulls up when she can hear Lena softly snoring.

When she reaches her side of the bed Emma carefully pulls the covers back and slowly gets into bed. Trying desperately not to jostle Lena.

“Hope, lights out.” Emma signs once she’s settled.

The lights slowly fade and the window dim to blackout.

Emma swallows as she turns towards Lena, listening to her steady breaths as she sleeps. Almost becoming Emma’s lullaby when her own eyes slowly grow heavy and close.

(Part Thirty Three)

[tanyawritesstories]

Close Encounters | Kit Fisto x Reader

After 6 hours of writing I have finally completed my first request! Which you can view here. I had planned on this being short but then got carried away, I hope the anon who requested this enjoys and so does everyone else who reads it!

@venomous-ko asked me to tag them. @savagesbonergarage @blue-space-porgs I think y'all might like this too 😉

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (f receiving), handjobs, dirty talk, Master and Padawan relationship, groping, cliffhanger, sexual tension for days, kissing, biting, fingering, all the usual good stuff 😋

•••

You waited patiently in the training room for your master to arrive. You had gotten there a little early and decided to stretch while you waited for him, he had told you this morning that you would be practicing your lightsaber combat and more hand-to-hand combat training since you hadn’t gotten much of it yet.

Since you didn't have anything you had to do after this, you were wearing comfortable athletic clothes: knee length leggings, tank top, cute sports bra, and the belt that held your lightsaber. The training room was empty right now, most everyone else in different classes or occupied with important things. You were grateful for the privacy but also scared of it, you knew that same palpable tension would hang in the air the second your master walked in.

Kit Fisto was a unique Jedi. As a Jedi Master and council member he was a strong and dependable individual, he was different in that he wasn’t as serious as all the other Jedi Masters. He was capable of smiling and laughing and had a carefree and kind spirit, it made him a favorite with younglings and Jedi knights alike. Not to mention with the soldiers of his underwater unit, you’d lost track of how many men you suspected had a crush on your Master. You thought made you laugh.

Then there was your relationship with him, it was strong but recently had taken a strange turn. You noticed he was spending a lot more time with you and using nicknames like: ‘starlight’ and ‘little flower’ for you. They were endearing and cute, which was also part of your issue. The crush you had on your Master was against the Jedi code, but again, lately it has gone further. You found yourself daydreaming of your Master with you in intimate situations, thank the Maker your mind was well guarded. The flash images of you and him tangled up in the sheets, how you imagined his lips would feel on your skin, how his fingers would feel as they toyed with your clit, how his cock would feel as-

You shook your head, clearing the images away. There you go again. The dreams and the close encounters with your Master had culminated in a sexual tension between the two of you. For all you knew, you could be the only one feeling it, maybe Kit was unaffected. You were lucky that you were able to hide the fact that he affected you so much, both with your mind and by acting normal and calm.

You stood up and stretched, bending in half to touch your toes, feeling the slight pull in your calves. You took a deep breath and relaxed, making sure your muscles weren’t tight and wouldn’t cause an injury.

“Good evening, my Padawan.”

The cheery voice called out and you froze for a second before standing up and turning around. Your master wore a bright smile and positive attitude that was infectious. You smiled back and greeted him. “Evening, master.” You could have sworn you saw his eyes look you up and down before he turned around. You wondered why and then remembered that you had been bent in half with your ass facing the door. You could feel your cheeks heat up and tried to force the sensation back. Kit whisked off his shirt, leaving him in loose fitting shorts. You sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, admiring the work you had done on your painted toenails. You flinched when he put a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

“Are you ready?” He asked. You unconsciously leaned into his touch, melting under his admiring gaze. “Yes, Master Fisto,” you answered. He smirked. “Remember, call me Kit when it’s just us, flower,” he said, tapping your hip next to your lightsaber. “Get ready.” You shook yourself out of your stupor and took your lightsaber in hand, activating it. Kit took his stance and activated his own blade.

You remembered your previous training and took a calming breath before lunging at him. Your blow was easily blocked and shoved aside, you used your momentum to land a kick to his chest with your bare foot. Kit took the kick in stride and rolled backwards perfectly, coming to a stand effortlessly. You sighed, slightly frustrated. Kit swung at you this time, you blocked the first swing easily and just barely blocked the next several. Lightsaber combat was fast and required extreme concentration, one misstep could spell catastrophe.

You exchanged blows, the heat from the weapons increasing the heat in the room. You were sweating, your tank top sticking to your body, making parts of it see through. Without his shirt, you could see the beads of sweat rolling down Kit’s chest. You tried not to notice it but you looked for a second too long and felt a spike of heat near your hip. You pulled away and looked to see your shirt had been burnt through to your skin, which was, thankfully, untouched. You heard Kit sigh lightly.

“You need to maintain focus, little one,” he gently scolded. “Yes, Kit,” you said staring at the floor. Whether or not he had seen you staring at his chest you didn’t know, but disappointing him was never something you wanted to do. “How about we get to hand-to-hand training now, huh?” He smiled reassuringly at you and you nodded. You tossed your saber, and the belt it was held on, away. “What am I learning today?” You asked curiously. “We are going to work on your takedowns,” Kit replied, pulling a cushiony landing mat over. You smiled, the idea sounded fun.

Kit brought you over and stood across from you. “The first maneuver I want you to do is when someone grabs you from behind,” he explained, “let me show you.” You barely hid the nervous gulp you took before turning around and backing up a little. Kit made a noise of affirmation before you felt his arms wrap around your middle and you jumped. “You alright?” He asked, his voice close to your ear. “Yes,” you breathed, placing your hands on his arms, “you just startled me, that’s all.” He chuckled in your ear which sent a shiver down your spine and an aching in the bottom of your stomach. “I’m sorry, starlight. It won’t happen again.”

“Alright, so if someone were to grab you like this...” Kit explained, he tightened his grip around your middle and gently pulled. You gasped at the sensation and hoped he didn’t hear you. “...I want you to swing your elbow back to try and hit my face, alright?” You nodded, your breathing getting shallow as you turned your head and saw how close his face was to yours. You pulled your arm in towards you before swinging it out fast, stopping just before it hit Kit in the head. “Like that?” You asked weakly, your elbow relaxing and you draped it over his shoulder. “Just like that,” he whispered. Fuck, his deep voice was doing things to you, the deep timbre worming its way into your ears and settling in between your legs.

“What you do next is put the same arm around my head, use my shoulder for leverage and jump over my other shoulder, make sense?” You smiled and giggled, honestly not knowing what he just explained. “No, I’m sorry, Kit,” You continued giggling, “I’m going to need you to show me.” Kit pushed a strand of hair away from your ear and chuckled with you. “That’s alright, I’ll help you. Just do as I say,” he instructed. Kit took your elbow and pulled it over his head to his other shoulder. You rested your hand against his back, his silky smooth skin warm and you could feel his muscles move under his skin. You hoped he didn’t know what he was actually doing to you.

“Ok, now push off me and use the Force to help you jump over the shoulder your hand was just on. When you do that, turn and land on your feet, I’ll be dragged onto my back and you will have the advantage. See how that works?” He further explained. You looked away, thinking and rehearsing the moves in your head. "I think I got it," you said. You turned your head to look back at him a little too quick and bumped your cheek on his nose, causing you both to laugh. He maintained eye contact with you for a few seconds longer and you saw his eyes darken in the slightest bit. "Alright, c'mon you've got this," Kit encouraged. He counted down and you moved.

You jumped up, using the one arm to push off as well as your feet. With the aid of the Force, you easily swung your body out of his grip and over his other shoulder. You both went careening backwards but you landed gracefully on your knees while Kit landed flat on his back, his fall cushioned by the mat. “Excellent!” He praised. You smiled wide and stood up, offering him your hand to get up. He took it and you pulled him to stand, you didn’t realize how much strength you had put into it until Kit was standing and still moving towards you with his momentum. You reached out to stop him from crashing on top of you.

“Sorry about that, little flower. Lost my balance,” he apologized. You both held each other’s gaze, the tension in the air was so thick it could probably be cut with a lightsaber. You broke away after a moment and that’s when you realized that your hands were placed on his bare chest. Heat rushed to your face and you promptly removed your hands, murmuring an apology under your breath. You could feel Kit’s eyes linger on you for a little longer before he began instructing you on the next takedown move.

“This one is fairly simple. I swing at you, you grab my arm, turn around, and flip me over your back.” You nodded along with his words, you’d seen this move done before and knew it wasn’t as difficult as the last one. “When I swing at you, grab my wrist, turn and pull me into your back. It has to be one smooth motion to let’s try just that a couple times,” Kit explained. You agreed and took your position.

Kit threw a punch and stopped when his arm was outstretched. “I grab the inside of your wrist, right?” You asked, and Kit confirmed. You grabbed his wrist with both hands and turned your back to him, pulling his arm across your chest. “Alright, good. Now do that again but pull me into your back.” You reset your positioning and breathed. Kit punched again but didn’t stop his arm this time, you grabbed his wrist and turned, pulling his chest to your back.

He collided into you with more force than you thought, you could feel the bare skin of his chest against your back where your top didn’t cover, you also felt something pressing into your ass. You froze. There was no way, this couldn’t be happening, the hardness against your ass was not what you thought it was. You tried to convince yourself and breathed in shakily, you pushed back on him accidentally while trying to move your foot and his other hand gripped your hip tight.

“Shh,” you heard him whisper. You tried to move away but he held you firmly and you just ended up grinding into him more, he groaned in your ear and your suspicions were confirmed. You could feel the wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs and your breathing become shallow. How long had he been hard for? His other arm you still had clutched to your chest and you felt his hand twist slightly, giving him the perfect angle to rest his hand over your breast. He squeezed gently and you barely bit back a moan.

“Master-”

“Just finish the move,” he rasped out, releasing his grip on your hip.

You pulled away and avoided eye contact as you moved to complete the takedown all the way through. You grabbed his wrist, turned, pulled his back to your chest, ignoring the feeling of his erection pressing into your ass again. In one smooth motion you, with the help of the Force, hoisted your master up and over you, sending him sprawling onto the mat. You kept ahold of his arm and your eyes met, you felt your pussy clench around nothing as his eyes were dark as night, filled with lust. You chanced a glance further down his body and saw the prominent tent in his shorts. Your mouth fell open and your eyes flicked between his eyes and his dick.

Tension and silence filled the room until Kit made a move.

He spun around on his back to face you and tugged on your arm that was still holding him, sending you toppling down onto him. Kit cupped your face with his other hand and crushed his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. It took a few seconds for your brain to register what exactly was happening, as soon as it did, you were kissing back. Kit parted his lips and ran his tongue over your bottom lip, nibbling gently, asking for entrance. You opened and Kit’s tongue entered your mouth, your tongues swirling together. Kit pushed off the floor and rolled you both over so he was on top of you, devouring you in his kisses. You wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him closer to you, Kit was holding himself above you with his arms and he experimentally ground his clothed cock against your center.

You broke away at the sensation of him grinding against you, you let out a loud moan and looked Kit in the eyes, he stilled. “Do you want this?” He asked, breathless. “Yes,” you breathed, “more than anything.” You pulled Kit down for another blazing kiss, during which you could feel his hands slipping under your tank top and pushing it up. You broke away just for him to pull it all the way off and toss it somewhere in the room. You wrapped your legs around his waist and Kit kissed you once more before moving down to suck and bite marks into your neck.

You almost couldn’t believe this was happening, had your master really had the hots for you the entire time and you had no idea. It was something you’d have to ask him later. A sharp nip to your collarbone had you crying out again and you wove a hand through his head tendrils. “Kit….” you moaned. He broke away from your neck and chuckled. “Needy, aren’t you?” He teased. He undid your bra and pulled it over your head, throwing that away also and revealing your breasts. You heard him curse under his breath and he gently took them in his hands. “You are stunning, my dear,” he cooed. You bit your lip and whined, watching as his mouth descended on one of your nipples. Your back arched, pushing your chest further into his hands and mouth. You moaned as you felt his tongue trace around your pebbled bud, finally flicking over it a few times and sucking hard.

You mewled, feeling more slick seep out of you as Kit sucked on one breast and his hand massaged the other. He switched and gave your other breast the same attention, his other hand snaking its way down your body. Your nails scratched up Kit’s back but he seemed to be enjoying it, letting out moans and grunts while kissing and sucking your tits. His wandering hand found its destination and he rubbed your heat through your leggings, finding them wet through. He pulled away and sat up on his knees.

“Look at you, soaked through your leggings. Do you need me to take care of you, little one?” He asked. You nodded rapidly. “Yes, please Kit. I’ve wanted you for so long,” you pleaded. Kit chuckled and reached for the waistband of your leggings, pulling them off in one fluid motion. His eyes widened at the sight and he could feel his dick twitch in his shorts. Kit looked up at you. “No panties?” He questioned. “My my, such a filthy little thing you are.”

You whined again, desperate for any sort of attention where you needed it most. Kit spread your legs and watched as your folds parted, he groaned at the sight and ran two fingers up and down your soaking slit. You released high pitched moans and tried to stay still as the pleasure wracked through your body. “You’re positively dripping, starlight. Is all this for me?” Kit asked in awe. “Yes, all for you Kit. You a-always make me this wet…” you said, your body jolting with pleasure. Kit swirled his fingers around your clit and you nearly shouted, he moved them lower and sunk two fingers into your dripping hole. Your eyes closed, the electric feeling coursing through your body as Kit started pumping his fingers.

He kept them at a steady pace and you were about to beg for more when you heard him ask you to open your eyes. You opened your eyes and looked down your body to see that Kit had moved to lay between your spread legs. Before you could say anything he was licking long stripes up your cunt, flicking his tongue around your clit and slurping up all your juices.

“You taste heavenly, little flower,” he purred. Kit slipped his tongue inside and curled it, practically scooping your wetness into his mouth. Your eyes closed and your head flew back, your moans and cries of his name mixing on your tongue. His tongue felt like liquid gold inside you, reaching parts of you that you didn't know you had and dragging pleasure from your body like a talented artist stroking against his pliant canvas.

Kit removed his tongue and replaced it with his fingers while his tongue gave your clit attention. His fingers pumping in and out, their pace picking up and Kit curled them, hitting that secret spot of heaven inside you. Your hands flew to the back of Kit’s head and pressed him impossibly closer, your fingers entwining in his lekku. Kit continued to drown himself in your cunt, he was hard as a rock in his shorts and wanted nothing more than to sink into your warm body and stay forever.

Kit worked on repeatedly hitting your sweet spot with his fingers, he could tell you were getting close and he wanted you a wet slippery mess before you took his cock. He sped up the pace of his fingers making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.

"K-kit," you cried, "I'm, I'm close..” He broke away from your pussy to speak to you. “I know. Cum for me, little flower, soak my fingers,” he begged. Kit returned his mouth to your clit and sucked hard, your hips bucked up and Kit quickly held them down as your orgasm flowed through you. The pleasure was blinding and you threw your head back once more, ecstasy surging through your body, you saw white and opened your mouth to scream Kit’s name.

He worked you through intense bliss, he stopped his ministrations and sat up again watching you catch your breath, your eyes still closed. While you were distracted, he removed the rest of his clothes.

You slowly came down from the mind blowing orgasm that Kit gave you, you opened your eyes and whimpered at the sight before you. Kit was finally naked and Maker he was gorgeous. Now that you were allowed to look at him you noticed his broad chest and strong, toned body. The expanse of his pretty green skin got slightly darker around his thick cock. Kit had a knowing look on his face as you said nothing, only reached out for him, he took your hand in one of his and kissed the back of it lovingly. His other hand traveled down and slowly stroked over his length, you whimpered and mewled as you watched him touch himself. Kit could almost see more of your juices pouring out of you and he smirked. He took your hand in his other one and brought it to his cock where you wanted it.

He guided your hand up and down his shaft and you twisted your wrist as you worked him. His skin was even softer and you wanted it in your mouth immediately, you smeared around the clear and sticky precum leaking out of his pointed and swollen tip. The little grunts and groans that spilled from Kit’s lips were music to your ears, but you wanted to make him moan. You tugged a little harder on his cock and Kit’s chest rose and fell faster with his breathing. He suddenly clamped his hand over yours, stopping your movements.

“Your hands feel amazing, starlight,” he gasped, “but I’m not cumming without being inside you.” You gasped and Kit draped himself over the top of you again. You grabbed the back of his neck and brought him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue and lips. “I need you to fuck me, Kit, please,” you begged. “I will, are you on-” “Yes, I’m on something, pleeeaasse,” you whined. You could feel his cock resting against your stomach and needed it inside your body. “Patience, little one. I’ll give you what you want,” Kit purred in your ear. He rested his forehead against yours as he reached down and slid his cock up and down your slit, collecting your juices. He pumped himself a couple times before lining up and pushing inside you slowly.

Your breath was stolen from you and your mouth hung open. Lords he was big. His cock stretched you deliciously as he continued to sheath himself within you. “Ooohh, fuck,” Kit groaned, closing his eyes as he bottomed out. You both stared into each other’s eyes, catching your breath and getting used to the feeling of being connected. Kit lowered his lips to yours, your walls were squeezing him so tight he didn’t know how he was going to pull out much. You once again wrapped your legs around Kit’s waist and dug your nails into his back. You had expected it to hurt when he entered you, given his size, but all you felt was mind numbing pleasure that encompassed your entire being.

You nodded once you were used to him and Kit slowly started moving, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. You yelped and begged for more. “Kit, please. I want you Kit, I need you to make me cum. Fuck, please!!” You rambled. Kit chuckled and picked up his pace, knowing he wouldn’t last long with how tight you were and how close he already was. “Stars above, YN,” Kit moaned, “fuck, you’ve got the tightest little pussy I’ve ever felt.” His pace increased again and he was slamming in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping together and panting filled the empty training room.

You kissed again and Kit reached down to play with your clit. Your sweaty bodies sticking together, both of you in a new kind of euphoria previously undiscovered. “Look at you, fuck, you look so beautiful like this. You gonna cum on my cock now, flower?” Kit panted. You had no words, none could enter your mind, the only thing you could think of was how good Kit was making you feel and how you never wanted it to stop. You nodded frantically, moaning loud and pulling Kit closer to you.

He pressed hard on your clit at the same time he bit onto your neck and you were sent over the edge of ecstasy. You screamed his name and convulsed around him, your cunt clamping down on him and gushing all over his cock. Kit released your neck and growled deep in your ear as his balls tightened and, with a few more thrusts, his seed was spilling inside you. You both stilled, connected together and finally sated.

After a couple minutes you fully came down from your highs and your eyes met. You smiled and Kit smiled brightly back at you, before you both started laughing. "This isn't exactly the way I had hoped you'd find out about my feelings for you," Kit confessed. You shook your head. "Me neither, but I'm glad it happened," you said. "Me too," Kit whispered, leaning down to kiss you again. You could feel Kit start to soften inside you but he made no move to pull away from you.

You nuzzled your nose into Kit's cheek. "I love you, Kit," you whispered. Kit in turn kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle. "And I love you, Y/N," he said. "My little flower." You both smiled and connected your lips in another kiss. You both barely heard the sound of someone clearing their throat until a familiar Kel Dor voice spoke.

"Well, what do we have here?"

[alfredosauce50]

She’ll never know [Yandere! Iceland x reader]

Synopsis: Everybody’s pumped for the week-long skiing trip in Switzerland. While Emil and you are back to showcasing your weird relationship— “platonically” holding hands and sharing beds, Mathias never catches the drift like everyone else does and demands the same treatment from you. Emil eventually gives in to jealousy and denounces his friendship with you the first night in. He thought he was satisfied with these developments, all until he overhears a conversation between Mathias and Lukas two days later. Seems like he wasn’t the only one pining for you. His chance at revenge arrives when he finds the Dane unconscious in the snow after a freak accident. Wordcount: 4,288 The reader is referred to as she/her.

It was supposed to be a drama-free ski trip. 

You were tagging along for the first time, sitting with him on the plane and sharing a room at the resort. Getting a seat next to you was a wildcard, for sure. But the latter was a given, considering it was Tino who made the sleeping arrangements. Out of everyone in the group, or anyone for that matter, you had always been the closest to Emil—the Finnish man was well aware of that.

Even then, he planned on sticking to you like a tattoo. For seven straight days, being with him also meant you would be in the company of a loud-mouthed Dane. And sometimes, he could be all up in your business. But he was safe for now, so long as he didn’t try anything on the plane. 

The soft murmuring of passengers and white noise of the cabin filled his ears as he walked down one of the aisles. Once you found your seats, he didn’t waste time to buckle himself in and get comfortable, all so he could pull out his phone. The last time you were with him, you both watched Interstellar. Well, most of it. 

“Em, this flight is a little over an hour. Why not take a nap instead?” You suggested, but he never slowed his movements to open Netflix.

While the downloaded video loaded, he pulled off his sweatshirt to ruffle up his silvery-white hair. Under that was a black graphic T-shirt with a cat on it. “Mm... No. We have to finish it while it’s still fresh in our memory.”

“Okay, fine. I didn’t wanna watch it right now because I’ll cry again.”

“So? Nobody’s gonna see.” 

Nobody except him. But you never minded, as you were already leaning over to finish the movie with him. His taste in sad movies rubbed off on you, and you were quick to tears. That, he was very familiar with. But besides crying, you also had a habit of falling asleep in his bed after staying up to watch things or play games. So it wasn’t weird to know how often you slept with him. 

Eventually, a strange chemistry started to brew between you both. 

A physical and emotional closeness so intimate, it was comparable to that of a relationship. But Emil never thought of things like that. Best friends could do this stuff, couldn’t they? Holding hands and sharing clothes was the norm. 

Drinking from the same cup was just a regular Tuesday.  

“Gimme some of your apple juice.” You whispered, feeling a little dry in the mouth after tearing up. Reaching out for his cup to take a few gulps, he furrowed his brows and grumbled. He was left with nothing but backwash. 

“I was gonna drink that.”

A few mischievous laughs fell from your lips. “There’s still some left.” Picking the cup up, you swished around the remaining contents, which wasn’t much. 

“This should be more than enough for you, you dehydrated gremlin. I’d encourage you to have more, but we both know you’d only have a sip whether I drank from it or not."

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he frowned. “No I wouldn’t.”

“You would. That’s why I left you a sip.”

“... Shut up.”

The plane landed not long after, and your spunk died down near the conclusion of the film. Yes, it was sad. And yes, you cried. Like Emil expected, you were going to be silent for a while. When everyone regrouped to walk around the airport, you stayed by his side and held his hand. At the platforms to wait for the train, you and him were inseparable—head on his shoulder and all. But in your defence, you were tired. And this wasn’t the first time.

If anybody else did this to him, he would be shoving them off. They could hit their head for all he cared. And that was precisely why Tino and Lukas were giving him funny looks in the carriage. 

Laughing quietly to themselves with a hand covering their mouths, they watched on with a devilish expression. “Huhuhu,” was what Emil heard as he sat comfortably in his seat, but he knew what it translated to. Look at you, holding her hand while she’s asleep. He simply turned away with rosy cheeks. He didn’t know what they were on about. This wasn’t weird at all. 

Yes, he wasn’t exactly the most touchy-feely with people, but you weren’t just anybody. And he knew he liked you, a lot at that, but it was perfectly platonic. 

Nobody was convinced, however. All except for the Dane who practically came bounding over from a few rows down. But it was likely he never even got the gist.

The train finally reached a slower, constant speed, so he was prepared to join the group for some small talk. Leaning down on the backrest, he laid his eyes on you and Emil with a grin. “Well, well, well. Don’t you two look cozy.” He commented, his voice making the boy glance up. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. We’re going skiing today!”

“But hey—”Combing a hand through his wild and unruly locks of blonde, he smiled sheepishly. “Do you think I could sit with her on the way back?”

Just when he thought nothing could ruin this vacation, he was proven wrong. That was right. Mathias was the only other person present who actively showed you affection, and it always bothered him. God, the thought of you sitting with him for hours made him sick. 

“... Only if she wants to.” He mumbled, sinking lower into his seat to cause his hoodie to ride up. Since it was already on his head, it came drooping over his face to hide his dark purple eyes. There, he could read the other’s expression.

He could take a few things away from it. Right now, he was rubbing the nape of his neck while watching you snooze. Every time Mathias was expectant, he wouldn’t stop moving his hands. The sight made his frown deepen. When Lukas and Tino witnessed this, they looked away and shared the same thought. 

Just let him be, you idiot.

But Mathias didn’t quite get the memo, let alone read their minds.

So he stood up and responded with this. “Well, of course she’ll want to! Who wouldn’t sit next to me?” A brief silence fell around the group. Lukas coughed. Berwald continued to watch the mountainous landscape outside the window without a word, trailing his icy blue eyes over the snow that glowed purple at dawn. “Seriously, guys? This is why I like (F/N) the best. At least she’s nice to me.” 

Emil squeezed your hand as you slept. The tightness in his chest only seemed to worsen by the second. And it showed in his visible discomfort. Lowering his head, he let his fringe fall over his eyes.

“... She’s nice to everyone.” 

The blonde shrugged while closing his eyes in a look of satisfaction. 

“If you’re gonna be train buddies, then we can be skiing buddies. Right, (F/N)?” Reaching down to your head, he tipped it gently in a nod before saying this. “Of course, Mathias! You’re my favorite.” 

As if. 

“That was a terrible impression.” 

“What impression?” 

He huffed under his breath. They hadn’t even arrived at the resort, and he was already dreading the next seven days. This gut feeling turned out to be right, because it only seemed to get worse. 

***

Shortly after arriving, everyone dropped off their things before leaving to get right into the sport. After napping for nearly two hours, you were replenished with the energy to go skiing. Despite being quite the skilled skier himself, Mathias was kind enough to accompany you on the easier slopes. More accurately put, he was jumping at the opportunity to teach you. 

Hell, he’d been waiting outside your room to take you to the ski lifts. The moment you opened the door, you were greeted by the man all geared up, with goggles on and all. 

“Morning. You ready to roll? Or, slide?” He asked. 

Seeing him so eager was cute, so you were obliged to follow, leaving Emil alone in the room. When said boy left the bathroom after freshening up, he saw the door close behind you. “Sorry, Emil! I’m gonna go ahead! I’ll see you outside!” 

And just like that, you were gone. Dropping his face towel off on a chair, he dug his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply. Since when was the last time he felt this much anguish? Yes, he was rooming with you. But that was only at night. Daytime meant you would be with Mathias. He had no place complaining, considering he wasn’t the best at skiing. Nothing he could do about that. 

He changed out of his T-shirt and into his snow gear with a sigh. 

His excitement to go skiing was gone. 

And if he wasn’t going to ski, he’d be holed up in his room. His logic told him this was selfish, but he wanted you to stay with him more than anything. 

You returned late in the afternoon as the sun was going down, but he’d been staying inside ever since lunch. Perking up at the sound of the door creaking open, he forced his head down and popped his earphones in. After you set your things down and changed to more comfortable clothes, you walked over to the bed and found a bump under the blanket. Lifting it up by the hem, you found him curled up with his phone. 

His earphones fell out. “(F/N)?” 

“Who else would it be, dummy? I was wondering where you went.” You kicked off your slippers and slid right in. He didn’t know how much he’d been longing for this until now—the feeling of you laying next to him in bed. But he couldn’t get carried away yet. It wasn’t even night yet.

A displeased expression contorted at your features, but it melted away as you pulled his phone away. 

“H-Hey!” He tried reaching out for it, but it was already on the bedside table. 

“No more screen time for you.” You tapped him on the nose. “How else am I gonna get your lazy ass out of bed?” He knitted his brows together and rolled into you to hide his face. Then, he curled two arms around you, albeit slowly.

“To do what?”

“To ski, duh.” 

He squeezed you. “But I don’t want to.” Emil’s wintry white locks were soft against your chest, and you felt his body heat waft over to yours. It was a sure fire sign he’d been under the covers for too long. That was when an idea struck him. This would definitely get you to stay with him for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow if he was lucky. “I... feel kinda sick.” 

Your smile fell and you immediately reached out to cup his cheeks, then clamp a hand over his forehead. When he felt your touch as you checked his temperature, his heart rate escalated. He was on cloud nine. 

“... Oh no... You’re a bit warm. I think it’s best that you stay in bed. But don’t use too many blankets, or your fever will get worse.”

The sensation of your hands on him was to die for, and the thought that you were worried about him made it better. Nobody would have expected this trait from the usually detached boy, but he was secretly clingy. And he had the most subtle ways of showing it. An example would be lying about feeling unwell, but he didn’t feel bad about it at all. 

A headache was pounding in his skull, and it wasn’t wrong to say he was upset. And plus, if this worked, you could stay with him. He could practically feel a smile creeping to his lips at the thought, but he hid half of his face with the blanket. “... Are you gonna ski tomorrow?” He asked quietly. 

You craned your head to the side in thought. 

“Only if you can. Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

Blood rushed up to his face and he nodded. “Okay.” 

Reaching out to his cheek again, you groaned. “Oh my god. Why are you so hot? Hold on. I’m gonna find you an ice pack.” You slid off the bed, but not before giving him an affectionate pinch. He made a soft noise in protest. “I think this is a sign for you to fix your sleep schedule and stop eating instant.” 

Before you left, he reached out to grab your wrist. 

“What is it?”

He released you after a few moments. “... Nothing...” 

You smiled weirdly. “Okay, hun. Give me a ring if you need anything.” 

A couple hours later, the group gathered for dinner in a nearby restaurant. Despite the freezing temperatures that dropped significantly at night, Mathias insisted to sit outside at the balcony to enjoy the views. The views in question weren’t even that visible with how dark out it was. There was nothing but faint outlines of mountains stretching on for miles into the horizon. 

Much to Emil’s displeasure, you insisted that he sit opposite you. Understandable, because it was closer to the indoors where the warm air was wafting out of. But that only meant you’d sit next to the Dane, and he was quick to notice you shivering lightly in the cold. 

Like him, you had a sweater on, but he was the human heater, not you. Curling an arm around your shoulders with a softened gaze, he rubbed your arm up and down. Almost like how a boyfriend would to their girlfriend. 

And Emil witnessed it all happen. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf, min elskede. Do you want my sweater as well?” He laughed, to where you shook your head profusely. 

Did he just call you ‘my love’ in Danish? Since when did he start calling you that? And he was offering his clothes to you as well? He thought only he did that. Gripping the hem of his hoodie with clammy hands, he lowered his head as his heart started to sting. Fuck. He hated this feeling. 

But what he saw next made it unfathomable. 

“No, of course not! I can deal with this. You’d be crazy to take it off—" He lifted his sweater up and threw it over his head, the action making his t-shirt ride up. “—and, you’re taking it off.” He fixed his top before sliding the knit over you. Pulling it down so you could fit your arms through the arm holes, you were overwhelmed with his smell, and not to mention, completely encased with warmth. 

He was now left in nothing but a T-shirt.

“That better?” Mathias grinned.

“Yes, you idiot. But if you catch a cold because of me, you won’t be the only sick one in the group.” You grumbled under a blush, a little embarrassed he actually gave you his sweater. “Thank you, though.”

His stomach churned. His breathing deepened. Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, he started to spiral down a path of self-destructive thoughts. Did he always like you that much? He lifted his gaze to you, and found you carrying on with your usual banter with the Dane. Did you always like him that much? You laughed. Emil bit his lip. It always made him euphoric to hear you laugh, but knowing it wasn’t him that was responsible for it made him feel an unpleasant mix of all kinds of things. Sadness, anger, and a violent kind of jealousy.

So shortly after finishing his food, he stood up and left without a word. That silenced the chatter at the table, and everyone called out to him. But he was too quick on his feet.

You’d never seen him do something like that. Either he was nauseous, or something was really wrong. “He’d got a fever, so maybe he’s going to... You know. I’ll check on him.” With that said, you stood up and took Mathias’s sweater off. “Here. Just in case I don’t come back.”

Jogging up to your room, you were relieved to see that your instincts were right on the mark. Emil had retreated back here, and was currently hiding under the covers. Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees. "Em? Are you okay? Did you puke?”

“... No.” His voice was thick and nasally.

And that pointed to one thing.

The poor boy was crying.

Breathing out a soft sigh, you removed all your layers until you were in your undergarments. Lifting up the corner of the blanket, you joined him before wrapping your arms around his form. “I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You can tell me anything. I won’t be weirded out or judge you. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

He popped his head out from under the blanket to reveal his flushed face stained with tears.

“... Anything?”

You hummed. “Mmhm. Anything.”

Emil paused for a moment. Frankly, he had no idea why he was feeling like this. Perhaps he did, he just didn’t want to say it. That maybe, everyone was right about him. That what he felt about you was anything but innocent. The signs were all there. He’d never been this attached to anyone, ever, and even if he was, he would’ve hid it to some degree. But not with you. He’d been all over you since the start of the trip, and even now, he had his arms looped around your neck. And when other people decided to do the same to you, he was choked with turbulent emotions.

It even got to the point of intrusive thoughts. Back at the dinner table, all he could think about aside from worrying about this relationship was this—something terrible happening to Mathias. He didn’t want him to be there. He just wished he’d disappear, even for a little while.

When he realized these desires, he knew he couldn’t tell you. But there was still something he wanted. “... I’m fine now. But I just wanted to ask you something.”

You frowned. “Doesn’t look like you’re fine. You can’t keep brushing it off and expect me to let it go.”

“You’re right. But I promise I’ll feel better after this.”

“... Alright. But the next time this happens, I’m not letting you off the hook.” You murmured, reaching out to give his cheek a pat. “What did you wanna ask me?”

He flickered his eyes down to your lips. Then, he returned his gaze, but his stare felt a little hot on you for some reason. It never crossed your mind that he was hugging you around your neck, but it did now. “Would you ever...” Emil blushed darkly. “... Kiss me?”

You blinked at the unexpected question, but reacted nevertheless. The red flushing his cheeks spread to yours as you strung together the words to respond. “Well... I’m not disgusted or anything. We’re really close, so I wouldn’t mind kissing you.” You answered honestly, but that didn’t change the fact that you were curious why he even asked such a thing. “... Why?”

“I just wanted to know.” Emil mumbled. “Would you kiss anyone else?”

“No. That would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

His heart started to pound in euphoria. But the longer he lingered on what you said, his heart began to pound with another emotion.

“If you’d kiss me, then would you kiss me now?”

You had a feeling things would pan out this way. But you didn’t mind it in the least, in fact, you kind of wanted to do this. Leaning in to him, you heard his breath hitch from the close proximity. “... Maybe. But only a short one, because you’re sick.” Pressing your lips to his for short and sweet peck, he squeezed his arms around you and pulled you in again. Attaching his mouth to yours for a deeper kiss, he caught you off guard by the sudden build-up in intensity.

His coils around your neck tightened, and for the next few minutes or so, he kept kissing you. He just couldn’t stop moving his mouth with yours, nibbling on your lips ever so often. It felt too good. He never thought he’d ever be able to do this, but he was never going back now.

Everything he’d ever done with you now felt like child’s play. How could he have resisted these feelings for so long? Rolling you onto your back, he loomed over you and continued to make out with you on the bed. The connection between your mouths was starting to feel hot. The taste of yours only grew more prominent, and that was how he knew he was denouncing everything he used to have with you. He couldn’t take it, being friends with you. Emil had always been clingy. Jealous. And he was facing the truth—the reason.

He liked you. In every way you could like someone. But that wasn’t all. He was obsessed with you.

That night, you fell asleep on his chest.

To say he was satisfied with these developments was an understatement. He always thought of himself as your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But he was relieved he finally accepted he really felt about you. So there was no need to pretend to be sick anymore.

He felt like skiing again, especially when you had another reason to be with him instead of Mathias.

The next day was a blast.

He finally got to try the intermediate slope thanks to your encouragement, and he could officially say he wasn’t terrible at skiing. And he continued to explore the harder slopes the day after as well.

Sometime in the afternoon, he returned back to the resort for a hot drink break. Taking a seat in the dining hall, he overheard two familiar voices. He swallowed down what he had in his mouth before listening in to their conversation. Hm. Was that... Mathias? And Lukas? Those two have always been pretty close, so he could already guess that their conversation would include pretty confidential contents. But it wasn’t his fault they held it in his earshot, right?

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking. I really like... You know. And I wanted to ask her out.”

“You mean (F/N)? Good luck trying to separate her from Emil. If they somehow don’t already like each other, then maybe you’ll have a chance.”

“Nah, it’s worth a shot! He isn’t the type to be in a relationship, anyway.”

Emil froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The memories of that conversation replayed in his head like a broken record. Even while he was enjoying the cold night air as he skied later that day, he couldn’t stop lingering on it. Fuelling the anger he felt a few days ago. So that was why he gave you his sweater. Gliding through the soft blankets of snow, he never slowed down. Nobody knew you were dating him yet, but that only reinforced the fact that this relationship was new. Nothing was set in stone yet. And that only meant things could change, wouldn’t it?

His chest tightened and he slowed to a stop. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

As if the world wanted to test that statement, his attention was stolen by a gap in the snow fencing. It looked as if something shot through it, or more accurately put, crashed into it and broke it. Sliding himself closer to take a better look, he was shocked to find a body outside the barriers. A skier. He must’ve swerved too hard and passed out from possible head trauma.

But Emil soon discovered it wasn’t just any random ‘he’. The clothes and gear were all too familiar. Could it be? His blonde hair gave it all away. This skier wasn’t a stranger. It was Mathias.

He was laying on his side with half his head submerged in white.

Upon realizing their identity, the fear-induced urgency to call for help suddenly subsided. Instead, he turned around, and skied away, slowly, back to the resort. What was he doing? Was he seriously going to leave him out in the snow where he could easily die? Emil couldn’t stop himself from moving. Was he seriously that upset? It was clear. He was.

But he knew he didn’t want him to die.

Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone, not until an hour later, at least.

He didn’t know what was going through his head. But he knew what he felt. He wanted him to get sick at least. That would incapacitate him for a while, but not forever.

Sure enough, when the search and rescue found him, he was down with a bad case of hypothermia. He was immediately tended to by medical professionals, and it was revealed that he wouldn’t have made it if Emil never brought up the matter that Mathias had been missing. The color drained from his face when he heard that, and he never felt this guilty in his life. But it was short-lived. After all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

He secured you in his arms as you cried softly into his chest. Nobody had to know about this. Especially not you, who warbled out how thankful you were that he remembered Mathias’s disappearance.

As he kissed your tears away, the only thought that repeated in his head was this.

She’ll never know.

[crispychrissy]

Connected - Part 4

Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.

“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”

“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.

Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.

F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y

The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.

It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.

“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.

Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”

“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”

“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”

Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.

“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.

“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.

“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”

“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”

Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”

Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”

“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”

Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.

Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.

“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”

The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”

“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”

All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”

Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”

Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?

“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.

“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”

“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”

“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.

In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.

Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.

Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.

“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.

The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.

There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.

The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.

A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.

“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge

[jean-kayak]

Chapter 14

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: really this chapter is just fluff, underage drinking (reader is 20), Eren being a huge SIMP and SAP, reader gets a little tipsy, suggestive like once bc its Eren

Word Count: 3408

A/N: This one is not even close to being as long as the next chapter, but yeah, I really went in on the fluff and cuteness on this lmao enjoy

Tags: @iwascrybaby​, @germinvasion​, @styxtm​, @prxttyguardian​, @bigdaddyzawa​, @erensblackgirlfriend​, @kbbvbz​, @tomsadversary​, @pettyluxury​, @protectpancakes​

Chapter Summary: A mini vacation makes Eren come to a stark realization

Playlist for this Chapter:

1. While We're Young- Jhené Aiko

2. Morning Glory- Kehlani

3. Normal Girl-SZA

4. Off The Grid- Alina Baraz ft. Khalid

You raise your eyebrows when he tells you that you need a pack a bag, and you frown at him in suspicion, but he doesn't even blink at you as he goes back to whatever he was doing.

Your parents weren't home at the time you were leaving, so you just told them that you were hanging with Ymir for a couple of days, Jean wasn't going to be home, and you were going to be back before him, so you figured you didn't need to tell him anything.

So Eren decides to leave late at night on Friday, and ten minutes later he texts you that he's outside, and then he's driving down the street and to who knows where. You yawn widely, tears forming in your eyes, and you wipe them away as you notice that you've been driving for more than thirty minutes.

"You taking me somewhere in the country or something?" you ask, seeing that you don't recognize your surroundings anymore.

He chuckles as he reaches over to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "I told you. It's a surprise, it's about a couple hours away."

You roll your eyes when he tells you it's a surprise but nod anyway even though that still doesn't tell you exactly where you're going, and he huffs when you say you're going to go to sleep for the rest of the ride, and as you doze off, you feel his lips on your hand.

You feel something shaking your shoulder, and you breathe in deeply as you peel your eyes open, looking around to see you're in a parking lot. "Where are we?" you ask with a yawn, looking ahead of you to see a big building about two stories tall.

"Furniture store." You frown, turning your head to look at him.

"A furniture store? Why?"

"Wanted to change up my apartment," he answers, getting out the car and you follow.

"And why did I have to come?" you ask, meeting him on his side of the truck as he locks it.

"To get you some practice, since you wanna do interior design. You can use my apartment as a project or something." You feel your face heating at the thought, and you mask it with a scrunch of your nose.

"You're a dork." He smirks softly as he wraps his arm around you, walking you towards the building.

"Only for you."

The automatic doors slide open, and the place is pretty huge, but not big enough where you feel like you might be lost, and you let him lead you whichever way. "Okay, so what do you start with?" he asks you, stopping at the living room section, and you shrug.

"Colors, I guess," you admit, looking at the different couches. "What's your favorite color?" you ask, absentmindedly running your hand over the back of an armchair.

"Any color that you look good in." You roll your eyes as you scoff, turning to look at him.

"Which is?"

"Everything." You chuckle as you push at his chest lightly, almost thinking it's a lost cause until he speaks up again. "I don't know. Dark green, maybe?"

You nod as you look at the different furniture. "Okay, that's a start. And sometimes, I look at how big you want something to be depending on what you want to use it for. So, for example, how big would you want your couch to be?"

"Big enough for us to have sex on." You drop your head as you scoff, having trouble fighting the smile off your face.

"You're insufferable." You're pretty sure Eren makes you walk through the entire store, looking at stuff that you know he doesn't even own, and you notice that he keeps asking you if you like certain things or not.

"Why does it matter if I like it or not? It's your apartment," you add, and he busies himself with pulling the drawers open on a desk while he keeps his other arm wrapped around your waist. He mumbles something that you don't catch, but you don't get to ask because he's pulling you somewhere else.

You're almost out of the place when your eyes land on the prettiest coffee table you've ever seen. You gasp in surprise, stopping in your tracks and walking towards it, pulling Eren with you.

It's a deep mahogany, glass on top, and there's storage for smaller things like magazines or coasters, and it's just right height, you never understood the appeal of coffee tables that are nearly touching the ground. "You like it?" Eren asks you, jumping you out of your trance.

"I love it," you breathe, running your hand over it softly. "But there's literally nowhere for me to put it," you joke, giving it one last look before you start to walk away, and you stop when you realize Eren's not following. "Are we leaving?" you ask, pointing towards the door, thinking that maybe he wanted to look at something else.

But then he's waving you off, walking towards you. "Yeah, let's go."

"You know we just passed the college Jean goes to, right?" you say, your eyebrows raised, and Eren just shrugs as he keeps his attention on the road.

"Yeah, so?"

"So? What if he sees us? He said he had something to do for school," you stress, starting to feel yourself panic a little.

"Don't worry. Seriously, he's not going to find out." He sounds confident, so it calms you a little bit, but that panic is still underlying. He grabs your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm being serious. I already checked beforehand, we're fine."

You nod this time, his words reassuring you as you start to notice the light poles on the street you're driving down are covered in decorations. The further he drives down the road, the more decorations seem to be lining the buildings. "Is there some kind of festival?" you ask, looking around.

Eren shrugs as he pulls the truck into a parking spot on the street. "Let's find out," he says, and you're once again following him out, and when you get out, you can hear music playing. You follow the sound of the music, and you reach what must be the main area because there's suddenly food trucks lining the streets, a bunch of activities to do, and a crowd of people dancing.

They've cut off the whole street for the occasion, and you smile widely as you look around. "I think this is some festival for the town or something," Eren says, remembering hearing something about it before he went back home, and you bounce on your feet excitedly.

"Well, we can't just stand here!" You grab his hand, almost pulling him off his feet as you run towards the thicker part of the crowd. He laces his fingers with yours as you both walk through to look at the different venues and the different food they have.

He nearly buys everything that your eyes linger on for too long, and you firmly tell him to not buy you anything else, to which he just responds with a roll of his eyes, both of you knowing that he's still going to do it.

He watches you fondly when you get excited about the face painted, but he denies it when you say that he should get one. "Oh, come on, you have to get one," you urge, feeling the paint on your face starting to harden.

The person who did yours tells you that you could paint on Eren's face and that only makes you more excited. You force him to sit down on the bench as you look through the options, grabbing his wrist when he tries to sneak away.

"Just pick one, please?" you say, and he gives you a warm look as he smiles softly.

"Fine." He gives in, and you grab the brush excitedly. "Anything yellow," he responds when you ask him what he wants.

"Why yellow? Because I look good in it?" you tease, picking out something that's easy for you to draw.

"It's the color you picked on the fortune teller." You freeze, looking up at him, before smiling softly as you dip the paintbrush in the paint.

"You remember that?" you ask shyly, and he would nod, but you're already starting to paint on his face.

"Of course I do. It's the first time I talked to you." He huffs softly when he sees you shy away again before you focus on the flower you're drawing. He chuckles softly as he watches you stick your tongue out in concentration, and you pull away with a frown.

"Why are you laughing at me?" you ask, grabbing his chin to angle his cheek closer towards you.

He moves before you can turn his face, pecking a kiss on your nose. "Because you look cute." You shake your head, feeling your face flush warm before grabbing his chin again and moving his head where you want it.

"Okay," you sigh when you finish, putting the brush down, and you hold the mirror up for him to see what it looks like, and you put your head on the side of it. "Do you like it?" you ask impatiently, and he nods as he stands, pulling you up with him.

"Yeah, it looks good for someone with no art skills," he jokes, making you roll your eyes but you laugh anyway, and you both walk away as he takes out his phone.

You peek over his shoulder, not realizing he opened the camera app, and he plants his lips on your cheek that doesn't have paint on it, snapping the picture, and he locks his phone before you can see it. You're trying to convince him to let you see it, both of you walking closer to the music, and suddenly you're being pulled into the dancing crowd.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, but then you notice a kid grabbing your hands, and you laugh instantly as you start dancing, blending into the crowd, but to Eren, you're the only one he sees.

And huh.

Is that what this feels like? He's always seen it in movies, read it in books, but he's never experienced it like this, the feeling so strong. He unlocks his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he looks over the picture, the biggest grin on his face before he looks back up at you.

You look like you're having the time of your life, and he realizes that he's fallen so far, so fast in so little time. He feels like he's living in some kind of movie, and he always thought it was unrealistic to feel this way about you in a short amount of time, but the longer he looks at you, the more he believes that it's more than possible.

And he looks back down at his phone, making the picture his lock screen.

"Let me have some more," you whisper, and Eren rolls his eyes as he scoffs, checking to make sure the coast is clear before handing you his glass.

"Woah, woah," he says when you take a huge sip of wine, taking the glass out of your hand. "Ease up will you," he chastises, setting the glass on the stool next to the both of you.

"I have to get as much as I can before they see me," you respond, having trouble hiding your giggles as the alcohol fills your system.

The festival had started to die down, and he saw a sign for wine and art. He knew they weren't going to let you have any, but he was having a hard time denying you, and now he scoffs at your tipsy state. "We're supposed to be painting," he responds, grabbing the paintbrush.

"Well, what are we drawing?" you say, your words slurring just a bit, and he shrugs as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

"Whatever you want," he says, adjusting the both of you on the stool you're sitting on. He was surprised the both of you could fit on it, but he only took that as an excuse to hold you. "How about four flowers?"

Your eyebrows crease before you turn to look at you. "Why four?" He smiles at you, and you feel like you should know the answer, but you can't think of it. "The fortune teller?" you try, and he nods, making you roll your eyes.

"Why are you such a sap?" you reply playfully, and he laughs softly before putting the brush in your hand, then putting his hand on top of yours. He guides your hand over the canvas as you start painting. "How'd you know that these are my favorite?"

"Lucky guess." It's the flowers you had in your hair at the wedding.

You frown at him again, but go back to painting anyway, the strokes not as clean due to a variety of reasons, but the outline comes out good, and he helps you color them in.

He lets you have one last sip before he tells you that you're not getting anymore, and you frown but listen anyway. "Why aren't you drinking?"

"Because I'm driving," he replies lamely, and you nod softly as your mouth falls open.

"Oh. You're so responsible."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks," he says dryly.

You both finish your painting around the same time everyone else does, or rather people are starting to get less incoherent, so they can't focus on painting, and Eren takes the canvas, leading you out of the gallery with an arm around your waist.

"I'm so full and tired," you whine, your steps a little wobbly, and he chuckles as he carefully puts the canvas in the backseat before helping you in.

He starts driving away and about ten minutes in, he realizes you're really quiet, so he assumes you've fallen asleep, but then you gasp, making him jump out of his skin and almost swerve off the road.

"What the fuck--"

"A drive-in movie, we have to go!" you yell, probably a little bit more loudly than you needed, pointing out the window, and he looks to see an empty lot with cars and a giant movie screen.

He finds himself already slowing down and turning into the lot without even thinking about it, backing in so that you can watch the movie from the bed of the truck. He gets out first, letting the tail down so that he can set up some of the blankets he still has in his truck before helping you up, your steps shaky as you get in.

He lays down first, and you follow, and he chuckles as you instantly grab a blanket, wrapping yourself up before you lay on him. "Don't fall asleep, this was your idea," he speaks up when he hears you go quiet again, and you shift slightly.

"M not sleep. I'm just tired," you mumble, making him huff fondly.

The movie that's playing is something he's never seen before, and he's actually pretty focused on it when he feels you moving, and he just assumes that you're trying to get comfortable.

"Eren," he hears you whisper, and he hums to show that he heard you, keeping his focus on the movie.

"What, baby?" he says when you say his name again, and he tears his eyes from the screen to look down at you.

"I want a kiss," you say softly, and he half rolls his eyes before leaning down anyway. "One more." He sighs fondly before leaning down again, cupping your face in his hand, and he pulls away when you try and deepen the kiss.

"You're drunk, baby," he tells you, and you frown as you shake your head.

"No, I'm not," you argue, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Intoxicated," he tries, and you purse your lips as you think.

"Maybe." He huffs again before kissing you on the forehead.

"I'll kiss you again when you're sober." You groan softly in protest, but you don't say anything else as you turn your attention back to the movie.

~

Eren rolls his eyes when he hears you complain about being tired for the millionth time that night as he guides you into the dark apartment. He leads you to his room, catching you every time you almost fall, and the moment your eyes land on the bed, you're flopping on it face down.

"Hey, you gotta change first," he tells you, dropping your bag on the floor softly, but you groan softly, turning your head so that you can breathe.

"M fine," you argue, and he scoffs as he walks over to you.

"Trust me, you'll want to get changed." You groan as you roll over, unbuttoning your shorts, sliding them down your legs before letting them fall to the floor. You roll back onto your stomach, reaching under your shirt to unhook your bra, maneuvering it out from under you before it joins your shorts on the floor.

"Are you happy now?" you groan, and he rolls his eyes again as he moves back to your bag. You feel the bed dip next to you as he climbs in, but you don't move.

"Can you sit up for me?" he asks, and you sigh, turning your head to look at him. "It'll only take a second."

You sit up slowly as you start to feel a headache coming on, blinking slowly, and you notice that he's putting your bonnet on, and he catches you when you try and lay back down, not letting you go until all of your hair is in it.

"Now you can lay down." He barely gets the words out as your body hits the mattress again, and you get comfortable as you snuggle your face into the pillow, and he notices that you're blinking gets heavier, but you're looking at him.

"What?" he questions softly, running the back of his fingers over your face gently, and you give him a sleepy smile.

"You're really pretty," you mumble, and he huffs in surprise as he feels his face heating up.

"You think I'm pretty?"

You nod as fast as your body can let you, sighing heavily. "You're like...like," you nod again. "Yeah, you're like really pretty." And then you're out like a light.

Your soft snores fill the room, and he finds himself smiling fondly as he watches you sleep, and before he can think, he's slowly getting out of the bed and grabbing his sketchbook. He slides back in the bed, and all of the images from earlier today come flooding into his head and onto the pages.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, filling every last inch of the paper in you, but he can't stop until he's drawn everything. He draws your face when you were concentrating on painting on his face, he draws you attempting to concentrate on the painting even though the wine was making you even more incoherent, and he finds himself smiling for long enough that his face hurts.

When he gets all of those images out of his head, he looks back over at you before starting on the next drawing, chuckling softly at how your face is smushed by the pillow.

And he wonders if it could work between the both of you, but he doesn't know how you feel, and he doesn't want to do anything that will cause you to stop talking to him like you did back then even though he still doesn't know what he did.

But he's scared to ask, and part of him thinks it's the reason for that conflicted look you have in your eyes sometimes, and he wants to ask you what he did so that he can fix it because he doesn't want to hurt you. Not when you mean so much to him.

When he thinks that he's gotten most of the images drawn, and when he's about to run out of room is where he should call it a night, putting the book somewhere you won't be able to find it easily before laying down next to you.

You breathe in deeply, shifting closer to him in your sleep, and he carefully lays you on his chest, and the familiar weight of you puts him to sleep.

|Chapter 13|Masterlist|Chapter 15|

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask” Chapter 5 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter 

Summary: The team has a case that takes them to Illinois. Our favorite boy wonder gets jealous and challenges Reader. So, she decides to show him who is really in charge.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female Reader)

Word Count: 5.7k for Chapter 5

Content Warning: Here we go. The team has a case, so talk about m*rder, the usual criminal minds stuff. Jealousy. BDSM. Femdom. Degradation. Slapping. Spitting. Face sitting. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. And I think that’s it.

A/n: In celebration of my 1 week of writing again, and all the lovely support I’ve gotten, I’m giving you chapter 5 a day early. Chapter 6 is still scheduled for Saturday. (Mostly because I haven’t written it all yet.) Chapter 5 is my favorite so far. I hope you love it as much as I do...because things only escalate in chapter 6. 😇 Some names on my tag list still aren’t working. I’m sorry! 

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text are Reader’s thoughts.

-- Chapter 5: “Are you jealous, Doctor?” –

I don’t resent my job, I repeated mentally for the thousandth time. I don’t resent my job. I am not upset. I am happy to be here to help people in need. I didn't even sound very convincing in my own mind. I had known it was too good to be true. I finally had Dr. Reid right where I wanted him…when both of our phones chimed with the same text message. "Avengers, ASSEMBLE.” But it’s fine that we’re sitting on the jet at 10 pm headed to the Midwest. Keep telling yourself that, y/n. Serial killers were such cock blocks.

The ding from the computer on the small table signaled Garcia's digital arrival. "Hello, my loves!" Her sunshine personality would not be dampened by our sleepy grumbles. Or sexually frustrated grumbles, in my case; and from the way Dr. Reid kept sneaking glances at me, I suspected his too.

“What do we know so far?” Hotch asked, cutting right to business. If he was tired, he certainly didn't show it. I'm still not even sure if he's human.  

“The Illinois state police say that our 5th victim is named Sarah Gossman. She was a 32-year-old middle school teacher. Reported missing by her husband, Ralph, two days ago. Locals didn’t realize she was connected to the other victims until her body was found 2 hours ago.”

Hotch nodded, scanning the open file in front of him. “How were they able to connect them, Penelope?” David Rossi, the grandfather of the BAU questioned.

Garcia cringed. “They found the same wound on her shoulder blade. A square of her skin was missing.”

“It’s an interesting signature,” Spencer interjected. “The edges look jagged. Almost like the blade was serrated.”

“That’s what the M.E.’s thought too.”

“Babygirl, do they know if it’s the same knife that was used in the other murders?”

For a moment all that was heard was the clicking of her keys. “That is the suspicion, my beautiful chocolate sculpture of perfection.” I snorted at that one; every once in a while, their flirting quips got me. “They need the knife to be sure.”

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch said before ending the video call. “Alright, if this unsub holds to pattern, he is going to take his next victim before 10 am tomorrow morning.”

“We might not be able to stop it,” Prentiss said. “But we can get her back. He keeps them for at least 36 hours.”

Hotch nodded. “Get some sleep if you can; it’s gonna be a long night.”

--

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder; my fear evaporating when I turned and saw it was just JJ. “Hey,” she said softly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I said with a yawn that I couldn’t muffle. “I just feel like I’m stuck in a swamp, you know?” She nodded. “How he’s choosing them will be how we find him. How we find her.”

True to pattern, the unsub took his next victim the following morning after the body of Sarah Gossman was found. Alicia Sheldon, 31, was reported missing by her mother just after 10 am this morning. We had no proof that she was with our unsub outside of the profile, but we all knew that the clock was ticking if we wanted to bring her home alive.  

JJ nodded, reading over my shoulder. “Narrowing down when can help too. Any luck?”

“Not really,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I don’t think he does it at night, though. Garcia was able to see the activity for Alicia’s phone before she was taken. She replied to a text message at 4:45 am this morning.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s early.”

“What’s early?” Emily Prentiss asked as she walked into the conference room, Derek following after her.

“4:45 am is early,” I supplied. “Alicia replied to a text at that time.”

"Do we know if it was her?" That voice came from someone I hadn't laid eyes on yet. He must have followed Derek and Prentiss in. Dr. Reid was staring at me intently, his shirt wrinkled, glassed perched on the bridge of his nose. Even like this, he was so pretty it almost hurt to look at him. “Could the unsub have answered the text message to throw off suspicion?”

“I don’t think so, Doc.” I pointed at the evidence board where her most recent text messages and emails had been printed and tacked up. “Her text seemed personal. Not too much detail. It was sent to her best friend; unless the unsub was stalking her, there isn’t a way he would know that.”

Spencer nodded, walking around the table until he came to rest in front of the board. “Why would she be up so early…” His posture stiffened. What do you have, baby? What do you see? He turned and hit the phone that was in the center of the table.

“Speak and be heard.”

“Garcia, can we determine what time the last digital activity any of the women had was? We need to determine if they were all taken in the early morning hours.”

Morgan commented, “What are you thinking, Kid?”

Spencer didn’t answer, Garica spoke first. “Victim one and three are a no go; but victims 2 and 4 both had some digital dealings before 5 am the days they were reported missing, but they were all still at home according to the GPS on their phones.”

"Again, I say, Jesus, that's early."

I nodded at JJ. “Right. Who wakes up that early?”

“Someone with a strict routine,” Spencer said, his eyes never straying from the paper in front of him. “Garcia, did all of the victims have gym memberships?”

“Yeah, but to different gyms.”

Reid looked like he had just won the lottery. “What if all the women were on their way to the gym when he grabbed them? They all look athletic but have hectic schedules; it might be the only time they can fit it in. It’s still dark, but it’s technically morning. The women might feel safer. We didn't connect it right away because victims 2, 3, and 4 lived alone, no one knew their routines. He lies in wait and then grabs them, stuffing them into their own cars and driving off.” He was speaking rapidly at this point. “That could be why no one has found their cars yet. He has them.”

“Oh shit,” I muttered. “We need to see if the gyms have outside cameras.”

“Already on it, crimefighters.”

--

The unsub had left his car in parking lots adjacent to the gyms where the women were abducted for almost 2 days each time.

He thought he was smart; Spencer Reid was smarter.

“Hey,” a voice called from behind me. I turned to come face to face with a local deputy. He was a bit taller than me, stocky build, blonde hair that was cropped close to his scalp. “Good work out there today, Agent.”

“Thanks. You too, Deputy.” I turned, continuing to pack up my files. I was ready to go to the hotel and get some fucking sleep. Our jet was set to head out at 8 am the following morning. I’d gotten some sleep Saturday night; the team had gone back to the hotel in shifts while we continued searching for the unsub. But now it was Sunday afternoon and the exhaustion was starting to wear on me.

He cleared his throat, wanting my full attention again. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go for a drink?” Oh no.

I smiled at him, trying to be polite. “Oh, thanks for the offer but I’m really tired and we fly out early tomorrow.”

Deputy Douche didn’t like that one bit. He stepped forward, placing a hand on my upper arm. “Well, it doesn’t have to be a drink,” his smirk made my lips want to curl up in a snarl. “I can meet you back at your hotel and we can break in that bed together.”

Oh gross. I jerked my arm out of his grip. “No, thanks.” I turned my back to him.

He looked miffed but had the sense to not make a grab for me again. I felt his fingers brush over the end of my hair as he leaned in. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he whispered. He slid a piece of paper on the desk before he turned and finally left me alone.

Gross. I threw the paper in the trash.

My attention was so focused on finishing up so I could escape before Deputy Douche came back that I didn’t notice Spencer watching me from across the precinct with a deep frown on his pretty face.

--

I was unbuttoning my shirt when I heard a firm knock on my hotel room door. “Come the fuck on,” I whined. Leaving the two buttons undone I went to the door, expecting to see Hotch, given how sharp that knock was. It wasn’t Hotch. It was my boy looking angrier than I’d ever seen him.

He shoved through the doorway, making his way into my room. Luckily, we all had separate rooms this time. “Well, come on in,” I muttered before I shut the door.

Spencer was fuming. “What the fuck was that?”

I blinked. “What the fuck was what?”

His hands balled into fists at his side. “At the police station. With that Deputy.”

Maybe it was how tired I was, but none of this was clicking. “Deputy Douche? You saw that?”

“Yeah, I fucking saw that,” he scoffed. “I saw him touching you. Flirting with you.”

“Right.” Right?

Wrong, apparently, because that did nothing to dampen his anger. “Why did you let him touch you?”

It clicked then, right at that exact moment I saw what was beneath his anger.  “Spencer…are you jealous?" I knew it wasn't the best idea to laugh but I really couldn't help it. The idea was so ludicrous to me. Morgan didn't call Spencer 'Pretty Boy' for no reason. On top of being one of the most brilliant people in the world, he was also the most gorgeous person I had ever seen. His bone structure alone was enough to make most women do a double-take. The thought that I would choose to spend my evening with the Deputy…over Dr. Spencer Reid? Yeah, no.

His cheeks burned pink, but he held his ground. “You said we were monogamous.”

Oh, hold up. I barked out a laugh. “No,” I corrected. “I said we could talk about monogamy in our dynamic if you wanted to continue." I felt my anger rise so quickly. "You have a fucking eidetic memory, baby. You know what I said.” Plus, I can’t control who flirts with me, dickbag, I thought, choosing not to say it out loud.

His anger matched mine. “I thought it was understood!”

“Nothing is understood until we talk about it, Doc.”

“Don’t call me that, not right now.”

Bad move, baby. “Oh, so you think you give the orders, Doc?” I made sure to put a lot of emphasis on the last letter in an attempt to rile him up further.

It worked because no sooner had the words left my mouth than his body slammed into mine. His mouth sealed over my lips in an angry kiss, his tongue demanding entry to my mouth, his hands tangled in my hair, holding me to him.

I was so lost for a moment; I hadn’t felt this in so long. For years my relationships were in perfect control, nothing unexpected. Who knew Dr. Reid would be the one that broke that pattern?

I hope you’re ready for this. My right hand grabbed the hair at the back of his head, tugging hard. His mouth broke away from mine with a yelp, but my left hand came up to hold his face, forcing his lips to pucker. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He looked scared for just a moment. Come on, baby. You can do it. Enlightenment washed over his face as he whimpered out, “I’m sorry.”

I tugged his hair again, only this time he moaned softly at the sensation. “You’re sorry what?”

“I-I’m sorry, Miss.” He licked his lips, looking more unsure than scared now.

Despite how fast my heart was beating, and how blown his pupils were, I couldn’t move forward until he understood. Spencer needed to understand the rules of a situation to feel comfortable. “We don’t have to do this, baby,” my voice was a whisper; somehow my serious tone didn’t manage to break the tension that hung around us.

“I want to,” his voice was hushed, urgent. “I trust you, y/n. And I feel so…I don’t know what this feeling is.”

I rubbed my thumb over his cheek, brushing over his bottom lip. “I know, sweet boy. I’ve got you.” I pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Green, yellow, and red,” I said knowing he’d understand what I meant. “There’s no shame here, pretty boy. I will not be upset with you if you need to use a safe word. It doesn’t mean our relationship ends, just this scene.” He nodded quickly. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes Miss,” his voice was breathy, but his eyes were steady.

I smirked at him. “Good boy.” My hand tightened in his hair. “You’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you Dr. Reid?”

“Y-yes Miss.” I had guessed that the honorific would be a turn on for him, and judging by the whimper that followed his words, it looks like I was right.

“Take your clothes off and lay down in the center of the bed,” I released him, backing away to put as much space between us as I could. “Wait for me. You’re not allowed to touch yourself.” Honey brown eyes met mine, he wasn’t confused anymore. All that I saw reflecting in those eyes was desire.

I walked around him, never turning to look at him, and I headed into the bathroom. I finished taking off my shirt. I ran a brush through my hair. I did any tiny little task I could think of; I wanted him to wait.

The thing about BDSM dynamics that most people don’t understand is that no relationship is the same. The punishments that made one submissive tremble wouldn’t be effective on another. Anticipation would make Spencer squirm; I was sure of it. I had given Dr. Reid a lot of thought since our first conversation. I needed to understand what desires drove him if I was going to be able to bring him to the heights I wanted to.

Looking in the mirror, I puffed out a big breath. Truth be told, part of me being in the bathroom was to build anticipation for Spencer…but, part of it was because I was afraid. Even before tonight I had decided that my nervous boy deserved more than I gave the average sub. I cared about all my submissives to a point but, Dr. Spencer Reid was different. Maybe it’s because he had already held my life in his hands for almost a year; that made it easier…hell, it made it possible to trust him with this.

Squaring my shoulders, I turned and walked out of the bathroom. The main room was lit only by a lamp on the bedside table, covering our little world in a soft glow. I stalked slowly towards the bed, my eyes dragging up, up, up, until I saw him. He had followed my directions; I realized this was the first time I had ever seen him completely naked. He was beautiful, so beautiful. He wasn’t as scrawny as he looked to be with his clothes on. His body was covered in lean, toned muscles. He had no hair on his chest, giving him a slightly delicate appearance in my eyes; I wanted to mark that chest with scratches from my nails and bruises from my mouth. His cock laid against his thigh, half hard already. Like the good boy, I knew him to be, his arms were at his side, hands balled into tight fists.

I reached for the button of my pants, undoing them slowly, my eyes never left Spencer’s. Once my pants were off, leaving me in just my bra and panties, I placed a knee on the bed. I was careful not to touch him while I crawled up the bed to kneel beside him. Spencer's eyes bounced all over my body, his hands clenched and relaxing. My boy didn’t know what was to come and waiting for it was agonizing.

I reached out my hand to him, allowing my fingers to barely brush his arm. I trailed them up then down again and again. “Tell me why you came here tonight,” his eyes searched my face, still looking so vulnerable. “Why did you come to my door, Spencer?”

He licked his lips. “I-I was mad.”

My touch became firmer, a sort of reward for his honesty. I let my fingers wander up to his collarbone, over his chest. "Why were you mad, Dr. Reid?"

The whimper that slipped from his lips when I called him Dr. Reid was music to my ears. His hips were shifting on the bed, he was fully hard now.

“Because he touched you.”

I moved to swing my leg over his body, straddling his abdomen, careful not to touch his cock, not yet. “And why were you mad that he touched me?” I whispered.

“He can’t touch you,” his voice was breathy but firm. “You’re mine.”

Slap.

He looked startled when my open palm connected with his cheek. It wasn’t as hard as I wanted; I was still unsure. “No, Dr. Reid. I’m not yours. You are mine.” I leaned over him, my arms going to either side of his head to cage him in. “Do you understand?”

In the way that Spencer knew everything, he knew what I was really asking. His voice was no more than a whisper. “Green.”

I offered him a small smile. Then I lifted my hand to grab on to his face again. “I asked you if you understand, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer nodded quickly. “Yes Miss, I understand.”

I released his face before moving off the bed again. “You’ve been a very naughty boy, Spencer.” I gave him a frown as my hands reached behind my back to undo my bra, letting it slide down my arms. Spencer licked his lips, his fists becoming tighter. “I’m very disappointed in you, baby.”

“I-I’m sorry, Miss.” His voice was dry as he stumbled over his words.

"Are you, Dr. Reid?" I asked as my thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties. "Are you really sorry?" Wiggling them down my hips, I let them drop to the floor before I stepped out of them.

“Yes. Yes, Miss. I’m so sorry.”

I crawled onto the bed, sitting back with my legs underneath me, letting my hands run up and down the skin of my thigh. “They’re pretty words, Dr. Reid, but I don’t know if I believe you.” I tilted my head to the side, bringing both my hands to my stomach, inching them up to my breasts. I let out a moan when I finally reach my destination, massaging my breasts, twisting my nipples while Spencer watched. I heard him whimper, causing a smile to tug at my lips. You’re doing so well, baby. I raised my body up so I was on my knees; I spread my thighs slightly, letting one of my hands drop to the apex of my thighs. Spencer watched so closely I’m not sure he even blinked when I dipped one finger inside the place that ached for him. I moved my finger in and out, biting my lip while I watched him.

After a moment I removed my finger, surprising him by bringing it to his mouth. “Open.” He obeyed instantly, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked on my finger. “I wonder what else I could make you suck on.” I withdrew my finger from his mouth, bringing it back to my pussy. “How are you going to prove that you’re sorry, Dr. Reid? What are you going to do for me?”

His voice was filled with longing and hunger. “Anything, miss, I’ll do anything.”

I smirked, moving closer to him. Bracing my hands on either side of his body, I swung my leg over his torso, keeping on my knees so I didn’t touch him. Not yet. “Anything, huh?” He nodded quickly; his eyes fixed on my pussy.

I moved one hand to the headboard, the other moved to touch those beautiful curls of his, pulling hard enough to get another moan from him. “If you really want to apologize, Dr. Reid, maybe you can put that pretty little mouth of yours to better use?” I applied a tiny bit of pressure to his head.

He looked confused for a second, his eyes were wide in surprise like he couldn't believe what I was asking him to do. He probably can’t, I thought.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I teased. “Do you not want me to put my pussy on your face? You don’t want me to fuck your tongue?”

“No, no!” He whispered hurriedly. “I want that more than anything Miss.”

“Good boy.” I think he felt the significance of this moment too. “I’ll forgive you if you can make me cum before I get bored of you," I smirked down at him. “What do you think about that Dr. Reid? Can you make me cum all over your pretty little face?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Open your mouth.” I leaned over, putting my mouth closer to his, making it clear what I was going to do before I spit into his mouth. “Swallow it.” He swallowed obediently without any hesitation. Noted.

“Okay, Dr. Reid. I’ll take that apology now.”

He moved so fast. His hands hooked on the backs of my thighs, pulling me up his body while also pushing himself down the bed. My pussy was hovering over his mouth, he licked his lips, his fingers flexing on my thighs. He looked so desperate for me…but still so unsure. “Go ahead, baby,” I whisper, pulling on his hair hard enough to make him whimper.

With that, he gripped my hips and pulled me to his mouth. I felt his tongue move through my folds, gathering the wetness that pooled there. He moaned so loudly, pulling my hips down further, bringing my pussy closer to his face.

It had been so long since I’d felt this. I hadn’t let anyone touch me like this in years; it was so much better than I remembered, but that may have just been because it was Spencer doing it.

“Ugh,” I moan, starting to rock my hips. “Fuck, baby.” I pulled his hair, tugging hard enough that I knew it hurt. “I’m already getting bored, Dr. Reid, and you just started. You can do better than that.”

I wasn’t ready, not even a bit, for his lips locking around my clit. He flicked it with his tongue, then circled it, trying to find the method that made me groan and grind my pussy down on his mouth.

“That’s more like it, Dr. Reid,” I said, earning another moan from him. “I knew there had to be a better use for this smart mouth." My hips started rocking faster, his fingers were digging into my flesh. "What would the team say if they knew about what a dirty boy you are, Dr. Reid?" His tongue sped up, causing me to shudder. I bit my lip so hard I felt real pain. I didn’t want him to hear me moan; he hadn’t earned it yet. “What would they say if they heard Dr. Reid beg me to fuck his face? You’re always such a good boy, baby. But you’re not the good boy they think you are. You’re my good boy.”

My hips were moving more rapidly; Spencer hadn’t slowed his pace at all, almost like he could feel how close I was. What I had planned would be hard for me…but I knew it would be torture for him. After a few moments, when I felt my pussy spasm with the telltale signs of my impending orgasm, I gripped his hands and pulled them from me while I lifted my hips.

His mouth was red, wet, and his lips were swollen. His face morphed from one of bliss to one of confusion. “Wha-“

I moved away from him. “That was really the best you could do, Dr. Reid?” He bit into his lip, he looked almost embarrassed as his eyes moving down to my pussy.

“Please, Miss,” he begged. “Please let me finish. You taste so good. You were so close, I felt it.”

I chuckled, “Oh you felt it, huh?” I reached between my thighs, gathering some of my wetness, then moved that same hand to grip Spencer’s cock. At that first touch he let out a strangled sound that was almost a scream; my poor boy is so sensitive. I gave him a few pumps before I removed my hand.

“Miss, please.”

“You didn’t make me cum, Dr. Reid,” I said sweetly. “What makes you think you’ve earned my touch?” I moved my fingers back to my clit, rubbing slow circles, still so, so close. “Touch yourself.” He obeyed immediately, his eyes never leaving my fingers that were swirling around the place his mouth had just been. “I want you to touch yourself like you do when you’re at home in bed, Dr. Reid. Back when you still felt so guilty, but you just couldn’t help it…because I know you thought about me when you touched yourself long before Nebraska.”

His eyes shot up to meet mine; it was hard to tell if his flushed face got a little pinker in the dim light of the room. “You don’t need to deny it, baby.” My fingers started working faster. “I know. I’ve always known. So, I want you to touch yourself like you did back then. You can do that for me, right baby?”

Hand moving faster and faster now, he gave me another beautiful whimper, “yes Miss.”

“Good boy,” my finger’s slowed. “I said you could touch yourself. I never said you could cum. Stop, Spencer.” I could tell from his breathing that he was so close to the edge. “I said stop.” I reached out to grip his arm tightly, digging my nails into his skin.

Once he had released his cock, I took in his appearance. His stomach muscles kept tensing, his cock was leaking precum steadily now, his dick was an angry red, his teeth were digging into his bottom lip, and I could see the tears of frustration swimming in his eyes.

“Aw, baby,” I cooed, leaning over to put my body above his again; I caressed his cheek softly. “What’s wrong?”

"I-I" the chatterbox that was Dr. Spencer Reid was finally speechless.

I lifted my hand off of his face only to bring it back down in a sharp slap. “I asked you a question, Dr. Reid.”

I saw the desperation in his eyes. I know baby, I know. We’re almost there.

“Please, miss,” his words were so quiet. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m yours.”

He deserved the world. This wonderful man deserved the entire world. “I believe you, Dr. Reid.” I leaned over him then, sealing my lips over his, my tongue stroking into his mouth softly. I felt his hands rise up towards my body only to stop just before they made contact.

He made my heart swell. I pulled my mouth away, looking down at him with an emotion I didn’t want to name shining from my eyes. “You’ve been such a good boy, baby.” I pushed the damp curls off of his forehead. “Such a good boy. I think you deserve something special.” I rose up on my knees, straddling his body again, my hand moving down to my pussy to spread myself open for his eyes. “What would you like more? Do you want me to put my pussy on your pretty face again? I’ll let you cum while you make me cum. I know how badly you need to taste me, Dr. Reid.” I bit my lip at how quickly he nodded his head. “Or, I can let you fuck my mouth. Hold onto my hair and fuck your pretty cock down my throat. Then I’ll let you watch me cum after.” I left a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Dr. Spencer Reid usually made decisions quickly; his mind worked so much quicker than everyone else, but he was struggling here. His eyes met mine, he looked so desperate and lost in a sea of his own desire.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby.” I moved down his body then, trailing kisses down his stomach. I gripped his cock hard in my hand, causing him to moan so loudly I’m sure someone in the neighboring rooms heard him. “Fuck my face, Dr. Reid. I want to watch you come undone.”

Needing no further encouragement, his hands tangled in my hair, tugging the strands so hard it made my eyes water. I opened my mouth over him; he lifted his hips going far deeper into my mouth than he would have done normally. I relaxed my jaw, swallowing around the head of his cock. My eyes were watering too much to watch him, but I heard him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, pulling my head down to meet his upward thrust. “You feel so fucking good, y/n. I’m gonna…” he let out a ragged breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he came apart. His groan was from deep in his chest and it sounded like my name as he filled my mouth. He slowed his thrusts, but I continued sucking. I needed him to feel every ounce of this.

When his hands finally dropped from my head, I released him. I wiped my eyes and I took him in. He looked so overwhelmed, shattered, and beautiful. I moved up the bed, lying beside him and wrapping him in my arms. I peppered his shoulder with kisses. “You did so good, Spencer,” I praised. “So, so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Spencer turned, his hands cupping my jaw while he stared so deep in my eyes. What I saw swirling on the surface of those amber eyes made my heart stop.

“You didn’t cum.” His voice was scratchy.

“I know. It’s okay,” I reassured. “We can take a break. Or you can watch me cum now.” I kept stroking his hair, his body. “Whatever you want, Spencer.”

My core was still throbbing, the sight of his release only pulling me closer to the edge.

His lips lifted in a smirk. “Whatever I want?” he teased.

“Yes.”

He blinked once, then again. He didn’t know quite what to do with my confirmation; but I meant it, in this moment, I was willing to give Spencer Reid anything and everything.

“…Can I make you cum?” he searched my eyes for any sign of hesitation. “I…I want to finish. What I was doing earlier.”

My laugh bubbled out of me. “I just had your cock down my throat but now you can’t ask me if you can make me cum on your face?”

I was still laughing when he leaned forward to kiss me; both of his hand cupping my jaw. There was heat behind this kiss; it brought my simmering arousal back to a giant flame in my lower belly. Heat wasn’t all that was there though. I can’t think about that. I couldn’t dwell on what I felt, but I felt it with my entire soul.

Despite what we had just done, this felt different. The scene felt over, his powerful orgasm had shifted the mood in our little bubble. I wasn’t his Miss. He wasn’t my pretty, nervous boy. He was Spencer and I was y/n; and he wanted to make me feel good. He rose over me then, wasting no time on foreplay; he knew I didn’t need it.

He settled between my thighs, his hands wrapping around them, his fingers digging into my skin. With one final look at my face to make sure this was really okay, he put his mouth on me. My back arched and my mouth hung open in a silent scream. Spencer didn’t toy with me; he knew how close I was.

“Spencer, Spencer, fuck,” his eyes opened when my fingers tangled in his hair, my pussy grinding into his face. “I’m so close. Fuck.”

I was so lost I didn’t realize his hand had moved until I felt two fingers enter me, curling expertly. He pumped his fingers and wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking firmly. That was all it took for me to cum for him.

It all happened so quickly I didn’t have time to be scared. He was the first man to make me orgasm in longer than I wanted to admit. I knew the last time I let someone put their mouth on me. It had always felt like a deeply intimate act to me, I was always nervous to let anyone do it.

Spencer rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Why is that sexy?

He laid down beside me; I'm not sure who's arms wrapped around who first, but we were clinging to each other, both of us breathing hard.

“So,” I said, after clearing my throat. “What did you think?”

Spencer chuckled, the hot air of his breath puffing against my hair. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” I pulled back to look at his eyes.

“Mhm," was his response as he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on my lips before his mood shifted. "Y/n…I'm sorry I got so mad." He looked so embarrassed as he said it as if it wasn't the sweetest thing in the world that Spencer Reid would care about me like that. “I just…I saw him touching you and I just…” he dropped his gaze. “I know we didn’t talk about monogamy, but I thought- I was just so worrie-“

My finger pressed against his lips. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, Spencer.”

We fell asleep shortly after that. I couldn’t help but wonder if his thoughts felt anything like mine; the irony of it all was I was too afraid to ask.

Series tag list: @abschaffer2​ @liaabsurd​ @brokenanxiety​ @thisiscalmandits-dr​​ @less-intelligent-spencerreid​​ @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @cielo1984​ @sarcasticsagittarius1998​ @101donuts​ @heyitssarahk @creepingfromthecorners​ @imjusthereformggcontent​ @fanfictionislifetho​  @annestine​

Taglist: @rachelxwayne​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace​ @nanocoool​

[plaidbooks]

Feeling Cold

A/N: I just can’t stop writing Sonny Carisi, especially fluff. Because this man deserves fluff and happiness (okay, everyone on svu deserves that). Anyways, here’s some fluffy Sonny fluff.

To my non-American crowd, 5⁰F = -15⁰C

Tags: none (it’s implied they have sex at the end), alcohol mention (Bailey’s is an Irish cream liqueur)

Words: 2577

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @shroomiehomie @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @averyhotchner @redlipstickandplaid @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31

It was one of those days where Sonny had arraignments all morning, then no court the rest of the day. Normally, he loved that; it’s not that he hated trials or courts, but he felt like it was, well, a time sinkhole. He had so much paperwork and stuff to do, and sitting at a table, listening to the defense drone on and on, made him more anxious as he thought about the stacks of files in his office. When he was up in front of the judge and jury, it was fine; he was getting things done. Any moment not actively working felt like a waste, though.

But today, he was leaving the warmth of the courthouse to half-jog through snow and 5⁰ weather. He checked his watch as he entered One Hogan Place, seeing that it was his “normal” lunch time; he was planning to take a quick lunch break, then dive into work. Plus, his lunch break meant he got to call you.

You had the day off, so he called you while in the elevator, heading up to the eighth floor. “Hey, doll. I’m done with court and just heading up to take my lunch. How’s your day?” His voice was a little unsteady, his teeth chattering. He had his normal peacoat over his suit, but he had forgotten both his scarf and gloves, and he was freezing.

“Fine…. You sound cold, Sonny. Are you outside?” you asked.

He huffed. “Not anymore—I’m just getting to the eighth floor,” he explained. The elevator doors dinged open, and Sonny let out a hiss as a blast of cold air hit him.

“What happened?” you asked, hearing his exhale.

He let out a shiver. “It’s fucking cold in the office.” Hurrying to his door, he unlocked it with numb fingers, and it was even colder inside. “The heater must be broken.”

He noticed everyone on his floor bundled in various coats and blankets, some even with personal heaters. Sonny moved behind his desk, sitting in the chair and feeling another shiver move up his spine from the cold leather.

“Would coffee help?” you tried. You had just made a huge batch of soup—for lunch and dinner tonight—and you wished Sonny could have some.

“Y-yeah…good idea.” He stood and went to his coffee maker. “Aaaand, it’s broken. Holy shit.” He clenched his jaw, feeling tears in his eyes from frustration.

“Oh god; I’m sorry Sonny. Can you leave early? Bring paperwork home to work on?”

“No—I have a meeting in two hours, and I need to be here. I-it’s fine. I can deal with this.” He grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m gonna go—eat my lunch. I’ll talk to you tonight, doll. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sonny. It’ll work out; I promise.” You hung up, thinking. Sonny sounded so upset, and you knew him—he got cold easily. The downfall of his lankiness. It was only a 10-minute drive to his office; you could easily make it before his meeting. Hell, he’d probably still be on lunch.

You ladled some soup into an insulated thermos, then pulled on Sonny’s coat—which was much too big on you. And then you pulled on a second of his coats. You stopped by the store on your way, buying literally the last space heater on the shelf, and ordering an extra-large coffee—with a tray.

You put the thermos on the tray, opposite the coffee. Tray in one hand and space heater in the other, you made your way to the eighth floor of One Hogan Place. It was freezing in the building, and you felt bad for the various workers you passed by, all bundled up.

You made it to Sonny’s office, putting the heater down to knock on his door. He called out to you, and you opened the door, stooping to grab the heater as you entered.

“D-doll?” Sonny asked, shivering. He took you in—the two coats, the tray and box. “Wh-what—?”

“I figured you needed this,” you said, smiling. He shook himself, standing and hurrying around his desk. You handed him the tray with coffee and soup, then placed the heater on the desk.

Sonny put the tray on his desk, still looking confused. “What i-i-is all this-s-s?”

“Drink some coffee—warm up. The thermos has minestrone soup,” you instructed. He didn’t need to be told twice, taking a deep gulp from the coffee cup. You shrugged off the top coat, laying it on the desk. Then, you shrugged off the second coat—the one that was insulated between your body heat and the top coat. Sonny stood stock still as you slipped his arm through one sleeve, then pulled the other one on.

“Better?” you asked, grinning at him. You pulled the other coat back on—it was cold in his office. Sonny nodded, just barely, and you turned to the desk, ripping the space heater box open.

Sonny was so stunned by your act of love; you were here to make him warm, to make him feel better. His mind was spinning—he was the one that did this for others. No one had taken care of him like this…except for his Ma when he was little. He didn’t quite know how to process it.

You finished “building” the space heater—you simply shoved the base on—then stood it by his chair and plugged it in.

“Is this a good spot?” you asked, turning to look at him. But Sonny hadn’t moved, his brow furrowed as he looked at you—no, he looked through you. “Sonny?”

He visibly shook himself. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

You gestured to the heater. “Sit in your chair as if you’re working and tell me if this is placed right.”

Sonny moved back behind his desk, pulling his coat closer around him, then sitting. “A little to the left?”

You moved the heater this way and that until Sonny announced it was perfect. Then he stood once more, coming over to you, and wrapping you in his arms. He kissed your cheek, his lips cold still.

“I love you so much. Thank you,” he muttered in your ear.

You smiled against his shoulder. “Of course, Son. I love you, too.” He held you for a long time, both of you warming from the contact. You kissed his cheek, your lips warm against his cold skin.

Eventually, you pulled back. “Text me when you’re coming home—I’ll have the heater on and a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay. Thank you again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Freeze to death, apparently,” you teased, and he chuckled. “Now drink that coffee and that soup before they get cold. And don’t be too late tonight—it’s supposed to get colder and snow more.”

You moved to the door, and he croaked out another, “I love you.”

You paused and turned, giving him a soft smile. “I love you, too. See you tonight.”

 *********************

Sonny texted you that he was heading home. The soup was simmering, the heater was on, and you made hot chocolate. The bath, you’d wait until he was home, so that it’d be steaming hot. Still, you got a towel ready for him, and you grabbed his favorite sweats and his Fordham hoodie, throwing them in the dryer.

You heard Sonny’s footsteps in the hallway outside your shared apartment, and you went to grab a mug. The front door opened and shut as you poured some Baileys into the mug, then the hot chocolate.

“I’m home, doll,” Sonny announced, shrugging out of his two coats and suit jacket.

“In the kitchen,” you called back. You met him as he came in, handing him the hot chocolate. Sonny was shivering again, his nose and cheeks bright red.

He cupped the mug with both hands, groaning as the warmth seeped into his skin. “Th-thank you-u-u,” he breathed.

“Mhm—there’s Baileys in it, too,” you warned, and he took a grateful sip. You smiled as he made a happy sound, then took another sip. “I’ll get that bath ready, and then you can have some soup.”

You headed for the bathroom, then turned the water on. As soon as it was hot, you plugged the tub, letting it fill. Sonny joined you in the bathroom, and you swore you saw tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Sonny?” you asked, worried.

He nodded, blinking rapidly. “Fine; just something in my eye.”

You gave him a look before brushing it off. “Okay, well, bath’s almost full if you wanna strip.”

He placed the empty mug on the counter, then started pulling his clothes off. He was still trembling slightly, goosebumps on his skin even in the warm apartment, and you were worried he may get sick. Once undressed, you helped him into the bath. He groaned as he sunk down, letting himself slide until he was almost fully underwater. You smiled at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Then, you took the empty mug, and went to refill it.

You brought a full mug back, and Sonny’s eyes were closed as he soaked. “This water feels amazing,” he moaned.

“I’m glad,” you replied, passing him the mug. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Soooo much better with that space heater. Thank you so much for that—I can’t believe you found one.”

“It was the last one on the shelf. But if they were out, then I would’ve just dropped off the coffee, soup, and coat, then gone out to find one for you.”

Sonny blinked, staring at you. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would—you’d do it for me,” you replied, chuckling in disbelief that he asked.

“Y-yeah…I would…” he trailed off, sipping his hot chocolate.

You smiled at him. “Then why is it so shocking?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I just…never mind.” You gave him a stern look and he sighed. “I’m just…I should be used to this by now.”

“Used to what?”

“Someone taking care of me…someone who cares….”

You softened at his words. You had been dating for a few years now, having just moved in 7 months ago. And while it’s true that Sonny went above and beyond in the relationship, you tried your best to do the same for him. The only issue was that Sonny usually brushed off your attempts, not maliciously—he just wasn’t used to it, like he said. You’d try and cook dinner after a long day, and he’d take over once home. You’d plan to have his suits dry cleaned, and he’d snag them on his way to work, picking them up on his way home. Sonny didn’t like people waiting on him; he felt like it was a bother to have someone do something he could easily do himself. Your only time to “take care of him” was while he was at work, or holding him after a long day.

“Listen to me, Sonny; a relationship shouldn’t be one person doing everything for the other. There has to be a balance. So, let me take care of you. Let me do things for you, even though you can do it yourself. I want to do things for you, okay?”

Sonny turned to look deeply into your eyes. He scanned your face for a long time before he eventually nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay. I can do—I can try and do that.”

“That’s all I ask,” you replied. You stood, turning to leave the bathroom.

“I’ll be out in a moment—the waters getting cold,” Sonny said.

You turned back, smiling. “Okay. I’ll get your clothes ready.

He raised an eyebrow at you as you left, heading for the dryer. You pulled out his hoodie and sweats—both steaming hot. By the time you came back to the bathroom, Sonny was out of the tub, drying off. You passed him the clothes, and he smiled softly as he felt the warmth in the fabric.

As he got dressed, you went back to the kitchen, stirring the soup. Long arms wrapped around you from behind, and Sonny’s chin went to your shoulder.

You chuckled. “Feeling warmer?”

“I always feel warmer around you.”

“Awww, that’s cute. But I’m serious,” you said, turning in his arms.

He grinned at you. “Yes, I’m warm now. Thank you, doll.” He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, putting all his love and affection into it.

“Good,” you whispered against his lips. “Ready for dinner?”

Sonny gave you another kiss before pulling away, heading for the cabinet with bowls. “Starving.”

 *******************

Sonny caught you up with his day during dinner, then asked you for yours. Your day was a lot more boring, so there wasn’t much to comment on. Even so, Sonny hung on every word, as if you had traveled the world in 80 days rather than make and simmer a soup, and do some small jobs around the apartment.

Once done eating, you cleared the bowls, rinsing them out and putting them in the dish washer. Then, you went back to Sonny on the couch, throwing a blanket over him, and cuddling next to him. He chuckled, moving the blanket so that it was covering you both, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest.

“I love you so damn much,” he murmured against your head, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You chuckled. “I love you, too.”

You both sat there a moment longer, watching whatever Sonny put on TV. You could hear him humming—something he did when he was thinking hard. You were just about to ask him what he was thinking about when he whispered, barely audible, “marry me.”

You let out a surprised huff of laughter. “I think you’ve had too much Baileys.”

“I’m serious. Marry me.”

You turned to look at him, finding his eyes on you. “You’re serious?”

Sonny rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. You sat up as he got off the couch and disappeared down the hallway to your room. There was some shuffling, and your heart started beating faster. He came back soon enough, a small ring box in his hand.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he announced, dropping to one knee in front of you.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you gasped, your hand coming to your mouth. “Oh my god! Of course, I’ll marry you!” you tearfully said, hands shaking.

Seeing you cry made Sonny start crying. He sniffled loudly, blinking his eyes rapidly as he took the ring and slid it on your finger. He got up, and you pulled him right back down into your lap, holding him close and kissing him.

“Well, I guess now I have to get used to you taking care of me,” he muttered, and you laughed.

“Yeah, you do. I want to take care of you, love. You spend so much of yourself, taking care of everyone. Let me return it.”

Sonny nodded. “I will. I promise. But right now, I want to return the favor. You warmed me up, and I have an idea of how to warm you up.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, and you gripped his hair, tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth before urging you to stand, dragging you to bed.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

give me all your venom, i love that shit

summary: i do apologize. no one asked for this...but i accidentally watched assassination nation. okay, it was intentional the first time. but the twenty times after that while i was writing this were accidental. anyway...smut stuff. webcam smut with love of my life Andrew Barber.

warnings: cheating. age gap. andy gets a little dark. this is prob as dark as i would ever write this perfect, beautiful man. a million and one pet names also.

word count: around 11,100 lol oops

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: so yes, age gap. it’s unclear what that is. go ahead and do what you will. it’s truly none of my business. also...one day, i’ll write in my tags ‘i’m gonna post tonight’ and actually post that night. not 300 nights later!

Laurie was a great woman, pretty much the kind of woman that you had always wished your mom would just wake up one day and feel completely compelled to act like. She was always so nice when she spoke to you, even the times you were clearly a little drunk and practically falling out of your tiny skirts.

She chalked it up to youth, so you’d once been told. That was huge in the little town you lived in. Mostly, if people saw all the skin you were showing, what they thought of you was clearly written all over their faces.

Laurie just liked talking to you. About anything. Everything. School, friends, boys, the future. This interest that she took in you didn’t end when you stopped babysitting for the Barbers, if anything, it made your conversations warmer. It was evident that the little time she could get with you was precious to her.

Jacob was the sweetest kid in the world. You had been apprehensive when she first called you. One reason only: babysitting boys was the worst. They were little demons and their parents either were blissfully unaware or did know and just didn’t care. You’d seen the same show for several years.

Not Jacob. And definitely not the Barbers. They were all so perfect and well-adjusted. You hadn’t been sure what to make of them those first few months. You had briefly suspected that both Laurie and Andy were total sociopaths who’d spawned another little sociopath. Come to find out, you just actually had such a fucked-up family situation.

Jacob loved playing video games with you, even though you were terrible at them. He never got upset when you made him lose, he just insisted that you needed to practice. Around the time you left, you’d started to get a little decent at them. He also enjoyed coloring and reading, two of your preferred babysitting activities.

Still, he was also an energetic little boy and that meant that he had dragged you outside sometimes to play very distracted versions of soccer, basketball, baseball a few times, and football once. Only once.

You’d both ended up covered in mud, it had been raining that morning but neither of you wanted to be deterred by that. When Laurie found you, she was horrified. Maybe a tad amused, seeing as she needed several pictures of the two of you.

You had wanted to walk home that night, the same thing you did after most shifts. The problem was, they had arrived home a bit later than usual. Laurie first, Andy about 10 minutes later. You didn’t want to walk through the house, so while Laurie was still threatening to hose off Jacob outside, you made your way around to the front porch.

Just as Andy was unlocking the front door.

Andy. He was easily the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. Mostly, he was in these perfect god damn suits because he was a lawyer. Other times, he didn’t shy away from tight shirts that clung to his arms and chest, and jeans that did the same for his ass.

The coveted position of babysitting for the perfect, loving Andy and Laurie Baber. It was hilarious that it went to you because you were the only one who hadn’t been desperately trying to get it. All your friends would bend over backward, even though a friend of a friend of a friend, Julia Something, had claimed that Jacob was an utter hellion.

But what it came down to was the fact that Andy looked like he had been made by someone trying to create the perfect human being. Everyone was just looking for a way in and when you got it, no one could believe it. You hadn’t been as serious about babysitting. You liked the families you liked and tended to stick to three to five, but Laurie got your number from one of those mothers. How could you say no?

According to many of your friends, you should have. It was a betrayal, but one they couldn’t be too mad about because only an idiot would turn down an offer like that. They tended to pay generously also, so it took a total of three seconds to decide you were in.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “Back door locked?”

“No, I just didn’t want to walk through the house.”

“Right.” He gave you a once over before turning down to his phone. “Do I even want to know?”

That would officially mark the most words he’d ever said to you in one conversation. Laurie loved you, Jacob claimed that he was never, ever going to allow another babysitter to step inside his house, but Andy hardly even looked at you. That wasn’t uncommon. Most of the dads didn’t care, but those were the families that you didn’t stick with for too long.

“Football,” you explained.

He gave you a surprised look.

“But don’t get your hopes up or anything. Jacob sucks.”

He scoffed.

“Can you grab my bag? It’s just right by the door.”

“Heading home?”

“I should. My parents hate when I work this late, they’ve probably been texting me for the past two hours now.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He didn’t close the door after him so you could hear Jacob excitedly screaming about his father being home. Andy was a great dad and Jacob idolized him just as much as he idolized Laurie. It was a beautiful family dynamic that sometimes still baffled you. Your family looked much different.

He returned with your bag.

“Thanks.” You took it and turned.

“Y/N!”

You looked back as Laurie was rushing out.

“Oh, don’t walk home, dear. Andy will drive you.”

The look on his face told you that he had not offered and that she hadn’t even run it by him before that moment.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” you attempted to decline. “Honestly.”

“It’s late and cold.”

“I don’t want to get mud all over the car.” It was an expensive fucking car.

“Nonsense, it’s just a car,” Laurie insisted. “Besides, I paint the house a lot. I’m sure we have a few tarps still. Andy, will you go get one?”

He didn’t need further prompt to disappear inside. Laurie apologized for being late, you told her not to worry about it—more time with Jacob was never a bad thing. She thanked you for everything you did for them and you shyly accepted. She asked about your parents then, and before you had to give an elaborate answer, Andy was back with the tarp.

The drive was awkward.

It had started silent and you tried to hide away in your phone, but apparently, no one felt like texting you in that moment. Prior, your friends had been trying to talk to you nonstop, but wasn’t life just funny like that?

You felt like an idiot just staring out the window. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen around a thousand times before; he wasn’t even driving a different way. It looked like you were trying to avoid him and this insane, aggressive part of you just hated to appear weak or caught off guard.

Maybe it was your fault then. You were the one who spoke first and after that, things were just different. “How was work?”

It took him a moment to come up with a reply, and what a reply it was. “Fine. I guess.”

“Cool…” you sighed, clicked your tongue a couple of times, then glanced at him. He was staring forward, eyebrows pulled together, confused. Sure, he’d never taken much of an interest in you, and up to that point, as far as he knew, you’d never taken an interest in him. “What kind of lawyer are you?”

“What kind?”

“Like…a wife kills her husband for all of his money. Where are you in the courtroom?”

He chuckled. “I’m a public defender. I don’t normally get cases like that, unless my boss is trying to get on the good side of some irritating, rich people.”

You hummed. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Cool.”

“Why all the questions? You want to be a lawyer?”

You snorted. “I was just curious. I don’t really hear you talk about work.”

He didn’t say anything else and you felt shot down in a sense. Most fathers were easy to talk to. They loved to hear their own voice and they loved how you pretended to like to hear every word. Obviously, Andy wasn’t in that group. At least a few of your friends had responded to your texts so it wasn’t terribly awkward. He said goodnight when you climbed out of the car, you said it back and closed the door.

You thought that was that.

After that, any time you babysat, he would drive you home. Laurie didn’t even have to say anything, it was just expected that he would do it. He was the one who spoke on the second drive because you weren’t going to try again. It was just stupid stuff. How you were doing with school. How your family was. How your friends were. How your boyfriend was. Because you had a boyfriend, right? He had asked but you knew that he knew you did, Laurie asked about him a lot. Andy never seemed to be paying attention.

That was how it was for almost a month. Then something just changed. The conversations became something else. He asked you where you wanted to go, you weren’t sure you wanted to leave Massachusetts, but you knew you wanted to put some miles between you and your family. He asked you about the future, where you saw yourself. He told you a little about himself, only what he had wanted his life to look like when he was your age.

He had believed he was going to be a high school history teacher.

It wasn’t weird. You didn’t talk to any of the other fathers like this, but it didn’t feel like something you shouldn’t be doing. He just liked talking to you and he actually wanted to hear what you had to say, what you thought about things.

It was innocent. Even when he started coming home early just to make sure he could drive you home. Even when you started taking your jacket off in the car or crossing your legs and pretending you didn’t notice that your skirt was riding up. Even when he looked at you and you acted like you didn’t see it. Even when you would end up sitting in his car, parked down the street from your house, just talking because he knew you didn’t want to go inside.

Perfectly innocent. For almost six months.

You were walking home from school when you got a text from Jacob. He couldn’t find his science project that you had helped him work on. You could have just told him where it was, but then you wouldn’t get the chance to stop by the Barber house. You showed up and Laurie happily invited you in. It was in the garage, something you pretended to remember after about an hour. Jacob had a play date so when his friend’s parents picked him up, Laurie asked you to stay for coffee.

You did. You wanted to extend your time there because even if he didn’t come home soon, Laurie would tell him you had been there. She would mention you and he would be thinking about you. Which is all you ever really wanted.

But sometimes your plans didn’t really work out. You had been turning down jobs, better-paying jobs, jobs you’d had far longer than the Barbers. They had been friends of your parents, it was how you met them, so typically, word got back to your mother. She felt you were the most irresponsible person in the world and didn’t fail to remind you of those feelings when she sent you seven texts and ordered you to get home.

You didn’t want to deal with the chaos of making her angry by spending any more time trying to see Andy. It was a failed attempt at getting closer to him, and as you were walking down the street, you were almost thankful. What the hell were you doing? Why were you trying to get closer to him? Jacob’s father, Laurie’s husband, your boss. That was it. That was all he could be.

But then, much earlier than you’d ever seen him, he was driving by you. You smiled, waved, but kept going. He was the one who circled back and told you to get in. You didn’t need to be told twice. You wanted to talk anyway, you wanted to tell him what was going on with your mother.

He parked down the street again. It wasn’t dark like it usually was but there was no one around. Everyone was staying warm inside. The heaters were on and you had draped your jacket over your legs. It was freezing but leaving the car was the last thing you wanted to do.

He only spoke when you had finished venting. And it wasn’t in the direction you had thought it would go. “You’ve been turning down jobs?”

Shit. You just shrugged. “A few, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I’m busy.”

“You’ve been around the house a lot more lately,” he pointed out. “Is that how you’ve been so busy lately? With Jacob? With us?”

“I…I just don’t feel like babysitting for them anymore.”

“Because you just want to babysit for us.”

“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I don’t know why I’ve been turning them down.”

“I know.”

You lifted your eyebrows.

He placed his hand on your thigh with absolutely no hesitation.

You couldn’t explain how good his skin felt against yours. Like after running a mile and then finally catching your breath. Or waking up and seeing that you still have hours before your alarm clock goes off. Like when you’re walking down the streets during October and the houses are all decorated. Like when you’re starving and you finally eat something you’ve been craving.

“You want to see me.”

“I like seeing Jacob,” you muttered. You saw his hand move up before you felt it, your breath audibly caught and you shuddered. Pathetic. Weak. Desperate.

“You come over almost every day.”

You turned up to him, trying to keep your voice level. “You come home early every day.”

“I want to see you,” he assured. “Just like you want to see me…right?”

You nodded.

“Because you feel something for me.”

You wanted him, that was the best way to describe it. So fucking bad, so bad you couldn’t think straight sometimes. So bad that when your boyfriend touched you, you nearly got physically sick sometimes. So bad that in your bed, at night, with your hand between your legs, you pictured Andy and no one else.

“And you feel something for me,” you countered.

“I do.”

Before you could respond, his phone was ringing. Laurie, oh god. He saw the look on your face but clearly had no interest in letting those logical emotions—shame, guilt, disgust—grow. “Give me your phone.”

You weren’t sure why you did so. He handed it back to you with a new contact. Under the name: Daddy. You closed your thighs, rubbing them together, catching his fingers where they were still laid over your leg. You were so wet, desperate for some friction.

“You’re going to go inside,” he started. “You’re going to go to your bedroom, strip down, get in front of your mirror, and fuck your fingers. You’re going to watch the whole time. Then, when you can’t take another orgasm, you’re going to send me a picture.”

“Of what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Your mind was reeling. You had never sent naked pictures before, but that was because you knew what would happen if you did. They would get shown to everyone. Andy couldn’t show anyone. Andy wouldn’t show everyone even if he could.

“Okay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Give me your panties,” he ordered. “I want to take them home.”

You wondered if he had done this before, if he did it often maybe. But did it matter? At the end of the day, that wasn’t going to make either of you any less terrible than you were being.

But there was just one problem with his request. “I’m not wearing any.”

His eyes dropped down. “You aren’t wearing panties?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I think you do. Now, you didn’t plan on fucking me tonight. That’s too much too soon. But I am the reason…it wasn’t because you thought my fingers would end up buried in your pussy, not yet… Daddy wants an answer, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oh, fuck. Instead of speaking again, you spread your thighs and brought your own hand up your skirt. You were soaking, something he could hear when you pressed your fingers down. Which was why you had decided to skip underwear. Any time he was around, in a suit, you were wet.

His hold tightened on your thigh and you let out this small whimper. It was almost deafening in that car.

You pulled your hand back and brought your drenched fingers up to the steering wheel. You just wanted to leave something for him without risking anyone seeing you both in a weird situation.

He leaned forward almost instantly, inhaling as his eyes shut. “Fuck, you smell exactly like I thought you would.” His tongue dipped out just slightly and he licked the slick off the steering wheel, groaning gently. “And you fucking taste…”

Your phone buzzed and you both startled. “Shit.”

Andy sat up, clearing his throat. “Go. Do what I said.”

You went to reach for the door, but he cleared his throat. Oh, god. After what you just did, could you even pretend that you hadn’t surrendered completely? “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

After that, it was all kind of just a blur. You quit babysitting, which was very hard. You really did love Jacob and you were sad for a very long time every moment you remembered that you weren’t going over there to see him. You were never going to that house again, at least that was what you had told yourself.

That meant you didn’t see Andy quite as often, which was probably for the best. But he saw you. Often. Very naked. You sent him nearly hundreds of pictures a month, dozens almost every night. He was never too busy for you and maybe you liked that, maybe that was what made you feel so special. Maybe it was just him, the way he looked at you during those awkward exchanges when your mother dragged you to the grocery store with her and you ran into them. Maybe it was when he would call you even though he was at the office once you got home because he wanted to hear you orgasm. Maybe it was after your boyfriend would drop you off at home—and Andy always knew because you told him, you weren’t going to lie, you had no reason to—and he would ask you if he touched you, if he made you come.

He was your age. Andy was much older. More experienced. He never failed to remind you that that meant he could make you feel so much better. You weren’t sure what you were doing, why you didn’t just break up with him. Security, probably. If Andy ever decided to end this. Whatever it was. At least you wouldn’t be alone.

When Laurie wanted something, she got it. It wasn’t because she was aggressive or just didn’t take no for answer. It was because she was such a good person, how could anyone feel okay disappointing her? You certainly couldn’t.

When she insisted that you come over for dinner, you knew it was wrong. You knew she would rightfully hate you if she knew what you were doing with her husband. You knew she would feel hurt by the both of you, betrayed, outraged, disgusted. But you went anyway, and it wasn’t to flirt with Andy. Sure, you had done that once or twice in the past, but not this time. This time was for Laurie because she missed you. You had quit so suddenly and then it was like you didn’t exist to her at all. You owed her this dinner.

The look on his face when he saw you in the living room told you that he hadn’t been told about this. He looked terrified, worried.

“Look who I ran into this morning!” Laurie called out from the kitchen. She was over the stove stirring some pasta and you were at the table looking at all of Jacob’s drawings he had done in the past few months since you’d last seen him.

You gave him a look. He should know better than anyone why this was something you couldn’t just get out of. He couldn’t be mad at you. And he better not be accusing you of playing with Laurie like this.

He nodded once, just slightly. “Y/N.”

“Mr. Barber,” you returned.

Then nothing, he went upstairs and you returned your undivided attention to Jacob. Around a half-hour later, Laurie had to go upstairs and drag him downstairs, both trying and failing to hide their irritation.

She asked you about the usual after you had all settled in a bit. School was always the start. Laurie told you that school was the most important thing in the world. She had graduated but with a degree that she didn’t utilize. She loved her life, but she had her regrets and she didn’t want you to make the same mistakes.

She moved to family next. You always kept the answers light around Jacob, knowing that Laurie could read between the lines anyway. Your mother joined two different book clubs. Laurie knew that meant she was just trying to avoid your father.

Then your boyfriend. Another thing she wanted you to be careful about. She wasn’t expecting to get pregnant with Jacob when she had. She loved both Andy and Jacob, but she would have loved to hold off for a few years. She told you to take care of yourself first. Take care of your dreams, your future, your body, your identity before you worried about anyone else. Be selfish, be ambitious. She was like a mom; one you never even knew existed outside of television. You often wished she weren’t so nice to you. You knew you didn’t deserve it.

She just wanted to know how he was. How long had you guys been together, again? Right, that was quite a long time, she claimed. Where was he working? The same place still? You felt Andy’s eyes on you the entire time. He hadn’t looked at you for the whole dinner until Laurie mentioned your boyfriend.

Did you know about his politics? She promised it was better to know before it was too late. She knew his parents, knew that they were rather conservative. Everyone there was, though. The chances of finding a perfect man? Well, Andy was already taken.

Had you guys spoken about the future? Not really, not cohesively, but that wasn’t the answer you gave. You knew what he wanted and he pretended that he didn’t know what you wanted, pretended that one day you would just wake up and see it all his way. What does he want to do?

You were thinking about Andy. His hands, his mouth, his beard. You thought about making him mad, jealous. You thought about how he would be short over text and make you send him pictures and videos until he was less angry, then he would call and his voice would be so deep, he would growl orders at you. Fuck. “Yeah…he wants a huge family.”

“Oh.” Laurie nodded, clearly it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Well…what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie, but Andy would give you hell for it later. He told you that was one of the sexiest things about you. That you knew what you wanted. Basically, he just meant it was sexy that you were selfish enough to be getting involved with him.

“Well, just make sure you know before you make any choices that can’t be undone.”

If only someone had given Andy this lecture all the way back. You wondered how things would be if he wasn’t married, if he had never met Laurie, but If he was still here. You wondered what relationship you would have with him.

“You want to stay in Massachusetts?”

You shrugged. Andy wouldn’t let you come later, until you promised you were going to stay. You just had this deep, sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be kind about it either. Good. It had been so long since he was rough with you. Even over text, he was dominant and in total control. He owned you but you were worried he was getting comfortable with that, you worried that he was under the impression that he could be less possessive. Hell no. You were his, undeniably, but only so long as he was going to claim you as his.

“Well, you’re young…the possibilities are endless.”

“Well, I hope you guys break up,” Jacob bluntly stated.

You and Laurie both turned to him with wide-eyed looks. Andy was stunned for a moment, then had to hide his smile by sipping at his beer.

“Jacob,” Laurie scolded. “Don’t say things like that. That was very mean.”

“Well,” he huffed, ‘if she has more time, she can come back to babysit me.”

You scoffed.

He turned to you. “Is it because of him?”

“No, I promise. I’m just…busy.”

“Busy?” He rolled his eyes. “Adults are always “busy”.”

“You know, I think it’s time I put him to sleep,” Laurie scoffed.

“No,” Jacob whined. “I never get to see her anymore!”

Laurie sighed. “Jacob—”

“I’m not going to bed until you promise to come back,” he declared.

“Jacob,” you pleaded.

He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed. “I’ll stay awake forever if I have to.” Then he set his jaw and turned forward. He had never looked more like Andy, where usually, he looked eerily like Laurie.

You really did miss him. Not that you would ever tell Andy, but a part of you did resent him for the fact that you had to quit. It wasn’t all on him, but if he had never let this start, things would still be the same.

Laurie looked completely exasperated and it wasn’t like you didn’t have enough guilt where she was concerned. “Okay, Jacob, if you go to bed, I will try to come back for the summer. You know, I won’t be so busy.” You glanced at Laurie who appeared just as hopeful. “You know, maybe at least a couple of days while you guys are at work.”

“Well, I was going to do this later because I didn’t want you to feel like this was the only reason that I asked you here. We miss you and I just wanted to see you, but…” she glanced at Andy. “I just found out that I’m going to be taking a work trip this summer.”

“Work trip?” you inquired. You weren’t aware that her job would ever require traveling.

“Yeah, just this conference, kind of, for people who work with children. This is the first time we have been invited to it, so it’s really important but I’m just not okay leaving Andy and Jacob alone. Andy’s job…”

“I told you, I could take the summer off,” Andy assured.

Laurie gave him a look. Yeah, that was highly unlikely. Andy wouldn’t know what to do with himself after probably the first three weeks. She faced you. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you. If you can’t come back, we understand. The Rifkins were telling us about your friend, the one who also babysits. Her name is Lily…something?”

Your eyes instinctively went to Andy. He was giving you a knowing look. All your friends would fuck him in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t have cared. If he fucked anyone, you should have had the plan to just walk away. You doubted your ability to do that, unfortunately. And you couldn’t stand the thought of him touching her. Anyone but her.

“I’ll think about it,” you promised Jacob.

He smiled widely. “Okay, I’ll go to bed now. I’m exhausted.”

You smiled.

Laurie took Jacob upstairs after saying goodnight to you. That left you alone with Andy for what you both knew would be just enough time for anything, but you had your limits. Not in the house. Not while Laurie and Jacob were here. You decided it was time to call it a night and he decided he was going to walk you to your car. It was dark after all.

You just rolled your eyes and marched out the front door. You tried to stay in front of him so you could get inside your car first, so he couldn’t grab you or talk to you. You just needed to get out of there, anything that needed to be said would have to wait for that night when he texted you.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get my kid’s hopes up.”

That was how he wanted to start? You looked back at him; eyebrows lifted. “You mean yours.”

“Jacob misses you—”

“And you?”

He sighed at you. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, just don’t try to use Jacob against me. I will think about it…there are just things…that could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“You know what, Andy—”

His eyebrows shot up. “What did you call me?”

You crossed your arms, silently staring up at him. Your back faced the driver’s side door, the handle perfectly in your reach if you needed it.

“Baby,” he warned. “Don’t start acting up right now just because you know I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not acting up—”

“Then what did you just call me?”

“Nothing,” you muttered. “I’m sorry, I meant to call you daddy.”

He moved closer then, either hand on the car door behind you.

Your eyes widened in sheer panic and you immediately looked around. It was too dark to see anything, and this was Andy Barber. He was a trusted and well-respected man. No one would think anything even if they did walk out and saw this with their own eyes. He was a damn good lawyer and could convince anyone of anything.

It had been months since you spent so much time with him, but even still, the closest the two of you had ever been was in the car. There was an invisible line that neither of you crossed because you never wanted to get caught. It was always so light out, your creepy neighbors would just sit on the porch from sunrise to sunset because they were desperate for anything.

This was different. There was no one around. There was nothing to stop either of you from taking this further than you ever had. This was the extent of your relationship. Stealing moments. Secrets. But he had never touched you, he’d never kissed you. It was all you could think about in that moment.

“What was all of that?” he asked.

“What?”

“All that bullshit? You lied to Laurie.”

You scoffed. “No, actually, I didn’t.”

“Really? That’s what you want to fucking do with your life? Just be some god damn trophy for that boyfriend of yours?”

You shrugged. “I would love to be a trophy.”

He glared. “You’re smart, okay? And you’re interesting—”

“So, instead of being a trophy, I should be a spectacle? I should entertain people—”

“That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I’m fucking angry.”

“About what?!”

“Him!”

Well, mission accomplished. It wasn’t that you were surprised he felt that way, you just weren’t expecting to hear him say it.

He sighed, turning up. He was probably watching the window to make sure Laurie hadn’t heard anything.

“What are you even angry about?”

“I work with his fucking father.”

“And?” you demanded.

He looked down at you after several seconds of staring at the window. “He always fucking talks about you. He thinks you’re going to marry his son.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” you pressed. “Maybe I fucking will, Andy.”

“He’s an asshole. You tell me all the time. And if you think I’m going to let you—”

“Let me?” you scoffed. “You’re married. You can’t do shit.”

The look he gave you told you that was the last thing you should have said. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you away from him, pushing you into the car door.

“Andy—”

 You were in a tiny pair of shorts, despite how freezing it was that night. That must have been what gave him the idea to smack you, more so your thigh than your ass, but it hurt, nonetheless. You slammed your hands over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

There were times when you thought you were going to die if he didn’t touch you. Obviously, you were always wrong, but you didn’t care. Sometimes, when you would plead to whatever or whoever it was up there, that you just needed him to touch you, just a touch, you would claim you didn’t care how. This worked. Even though it really fucking hurt and the cold air was still stinging your skin, this was what you wanted.

“You know what you need to be calling me, honey.” His hand was at the button of your denim shorts and you panicked.

You tried to catch his wrist, but he was much stronger than you. Before you said a word, he had yanked them open, the zipper too. But no, not now, not here. “Daddy, stop—”

“You still think I can’t do anything?”

“Please, not here—”

His fingers pressed against your stomach and traveled down. You instantly lost your ability to speak or think. When he reached the band of your underwear, he scoffed. “Wearing panties? Why?”

What kind of question was that?

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” he cooed. “Such a sweet girl.”

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“Daddy will stop,” he promised. “But only if you want him to. Do you want daddy to stop?”

“Please.” Yes, please. But also, maybe please, don’t. Please, keep going. Please, touch me more because you never have. Please, touch me where we both want you to so bad.

“Okay, but first, I’m going to check if you’re wet. If you aren’t, fine. If you are, well, you know you’re not supposed to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you promised. “But—”

“Shh, baby.” He pressed his fingers down and you felt like you were dying. Honestly, like your life was on the verge of ending because nothing had ever felt so good and nothing should feel so good.

He didn’t go inside your underwear, of course not. He was always teasing you. Instead, he moved down until he felt the material was damp and made a soft, disapproving sound.

“I wasn’t lying,” you insisted, trying not to move too much. If he thought you were enjoying this too much, he might decide to get cruel.

“So, you want daddy to stop right now?”

You wanted to say yes, you wished you could make yourself. However, you stayed silent because you knew he would stop, you knew he would completely withdraw from you until you were begging him. Mostly, you couldn’t force yourself to want him to stop touching you no matter how wrong you knew it was.

“You know, baby girl, daddy wants something from you.”

You almost promised him anything he wanted but thankfully, forming coherent words was still something beyond you.

“Daddy wants you to come back this summer.”

No. That wasn’t going to happen. You knew now that it couldn’t happen. You knew now that if you were ever in a room with Andy, that both of you would get as close as you possibly could, that you would try to touch in any way that wouldn’t raise concern. And if no one was home? If Jacob was upstairs and you and Andy were downstairs? No, you wouldn’t do that to Laurie. Not in her house.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

You shook your head. “You know I can’t.”

“All I know is that I don’t like it when you tell me no.”

Which is something he wouldn’t actually know because you had never told him no. This was different. This was about hurting someone who had only ever been good to you. And Jacob—god, Jacob. If you were caught, Laurie would leave Andy and that was the last thing you wanted for Jacob.

“I’m saying no,” you insisted, but your voice was hardly more than a mutter.

He said nothing for several terribly long seconds, then pulled aside your panties and finally touched your pussy.

Your eyes fell shut and you pressed your forehead against the car window. His fingers moved higher until he circled them around your clit and you shuddered. Even biting your lip couldn’t completely muffle the sounds you were making.

He shushed you, a completely patronizing gesture as he was the reason you were being so loud.

“Daddy,” you gasped. “Daddy, please.”

“You want to come on daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded fast. “So bad, daddy.”

“Mm. Well, daddy wants you back, princess.”

“Daddy,” you whined. This couldn’t happen, not now. Where was his fear? Anyone could walk out. Laurie could just glance out the window and see everything.

“Daddy wants to see you back in the house every day. Playing on the floor in your tiny little skirts and your tiny little shirts that you never wear a bra with. Daddy wants to see you biting your lip and pressing your thighs together when you’re watching me, when you think I don’t notice.”

Fuck. You genuinely had thought you were being discreet. He was clearly discreet, however, because you had never noticed that he was watching so closely.

“But more than anything, I want to have you all to myself, baby girl.”

“I…would be babysitting,” you reminded.

“Jacob has a lot of friends. I’ll schedule him some play dates. Say yes.”

“No, daddy, please—”

“Say yes,” he ordered.

“I can’t.”

“I’m not going to let you come until you do.”

The noise you made was a cross between a cry and a whimper, something truly pathetic. He had you scared and he knew it, so he thrust two fingers inside you and when your mouth opened to scream, he wrapped his opposite hand around your neck.

You swore you would come just like that if he didn’t stop. You had dreamt about his hands around your throat. You would try choking yourself when you were making videos for him, but you knew it wasn’t like the real thing. When he would call you, you would always beg choke me, daddy.

His fingers were thick enough to stretch you even though you were dripping. Your mind wandered to his cock. You could feel it against your ass, and even through his pants, you could tell he was big. But it was little more than a theory. You’d never seen his cock because he didn’t send you pictures. Most of your relationship with Andy had been set around your imagination.

He kept you quiet with his hold around your neck, but his fingers fucked into you so hard that the wet sounds echoed down the empty street. If anyone found the two of you, you would be completely humiliated by how evidently desperate you were.

“Daddy,” you gasped when you felt yourself just right there, so close to that edge. Maybe you were biased in the moment in thinking that this was going to be the best orgasm you had ever had. You had toys, Andy had made sure of that, and some of them did the trick. But it was never like this. Close, at times, but only ever when you were making videos for him or talking to him on the phone. It was all Andy, he hadn’t been exaggerating when he was telling you no one else could make you feel so good.

“You close, princess?”

You hummed a confirmation and just like that, he pulled his hand away altogether. The one around your neck was keeping you quiet but your pussy was completely neglected. It was absolutely devastating.

Stupidly, you’d forgotten his grand plan of forcing you to say yes. You weren’t going to, this was so much bigger than this stupid affair. You could live with yourself knowing you were a whore, you could live knowing you were a homewrecker so long as no one else knew, but you could not and would not even attempt to be okay with sheer stupidity. And stupidity was playing this game. You didn’t understand why he wanted to either.

“How do you feel now?”

“No,” you snapped.

“Watch the tone,” he warned.

“God,” you huffed tiredly. “I can’t. No, I’m saying no.”

He simply hummed and with no warning, buried his fingers inside you once more. “Then I guess we’re going to be here for quite a while.”

A whine caught in your throat and you practically choked trying to talk to him. “Daddy, we’re going to get caught.”

“Then say yes. You think you can have an attitude and mouth off and I’m just going to let it go because we might get caught?”

Well, honestly, yes, you had expected that. This was bad and you knew you were fucked up because that was making it feel better. He was pressed against you, hiding you from any eyes that may look outside because he was insanely possessive and didn’t want anyone else seeing you naked. He was holding you so tight that it actually hurt and he was barely letting you breathe, you were getting dizzy and lightheaded and you just needed to come.

He did this to you so many times that you lost track. The only thing you did know was that it wasn’t taking long even though it felt like it. It was Tuesday night and you had been here enough at this time to know that this was a busy night for these rich people. You’d walked out of the house at 7:46. The bathroom light was still on and would be for another 30 minutes at least, because Jacob was a menace when he wanted to be—but never with you. Mrs. Johnson always came home from her cooking club at 8:20 to 8:30. Mr. Garcia would always come out at around 8:15 to leave his trash or recycling, depending on the night of the week. Sometimes, Mrs. Wilson’s grandchildren would stop by for late visits. They were all doctors and lawyers, at least, that was the reason they gave for never coming at a reasonable hour, but they actually just wanted money and knew she would be too tired to say no. Mrs. Taylor’s twin demons you once had the displeasure of devoting your Monday and Friday nights to had to go out every night at 8:30 until 10:00 because of some stupid project they were doing on stars.

Andy had to know all of this also, so you understood that he was just trying to call your bluff.

Well, fuck, it was going to work. You were terrified. There were so many variables, anyone could show up early. Or hell, there had to be some people here with drinking addictions, an affliction for pills, a house fire could start. Or a revealed affair could lead to a staged murder that looked like something else. Andy being so calm was almost worrisome.

But you were more worried about Laurie. Apparently, you weren’t like him. You couldn’t just shut off your guilt surrounding her. You knew you had to try one more time to get out of this. Andy was pretending right now to be so hard, but he was more than soft for you. He spoiled the hell out of you and let you be very bratty even though he put on a whole show that he couldn’t stand it. But you knew that when you gave him a look, when you softened your voice just enough, when you said the right things, that man would give you the world if he could.

In your littlest, whiny voice, you begged him. “Daddy, please.”

He froze for a moment, letting his hand fall away only to take your shoulders and turn you back to him. He was looking at you curiously, also a tad suspiciously.

You simply stared at him with pleading eyes. He couldn’t honestly think this was a good idea. “We can’t do this. Not around Jacob. Not in the house.”

Realization showed on his face and he scoffed. “Oh, baby, you really are the sweetest thing.” He leaned in to press you flat to the car door once more and brought his hand up, slipping his fingers into your mouth. His eyes were on yours the entire time, as you sucked and licked, and then as he started shoving them down your throat. You gagged, tears were running down your cheeks, and you had started rolling your hips, grinding against the bulge in his pants.

“You are the most beautiful little girl in the world, you know that?”

You hummed, thankful that you didn’t actually have to put an answer to that. He never stopped telling you that you were beautiful, that he’d never see someone else like you, but when you really had to think about it, you were just the average insecure person.

“You’re my little girl, yeah?” He pulled his fingers from your mouth, touching your swollen lips. “Tell me.”

“I’m your little girl.”

“Do you know how badly daddy wants to eat your pussy?”

It took you a moment, but when you realized that he wanted an answer, you shook your head. He didn’t talk about it much. He just liked to listen to you, he liked to tell you that he just wanted to be inside you, that he couldn’t wait to feel you around him.

“Mm…I do. I want to lick you for hours until your begging me to stop. I want you to come in my mouth. I want you to grind your pussy all over my face. You have to know how badly daddy wants you on his cock, though?”

“Yes.”

“Say you’ll come back, gorgeous. Of course, Jacob can never know, this isn’t a game. I just miss seeing you. I miss smelling your perfume and hearing you laugh. I miss having you so close.”

“I miss you, too,” you promised. But. There was still a but, even if you didn’t come right out and say it.

You felt his hands moving against your stomach and then you heard the zipper of his pants. Oh, god. He took your hand and slipped it down his boxers, you both shuddered as your skin touched his.

His eyes fell shut and he took a deep breath in. He tightened his hand around yours and began slowly jerking your hand up and down his cock. “What do you think, baby girl?”

“You’re really big, daddy.” And so fucking thick, you were going crazy just picturing yourself trying to ride him. He was much bigger than your boyfriend, much bigger than anyone else you’d ever fucked.

“Imagine my cock inside your beautiful little cunt. I bet it’ll hurt so much that you cry. And I am going to pound that pussy until you are so stretched and used that your boyfriend won’t be able to make you come at all.”

You wanted nothing more, but you also wanted to have a little bit of fun. “I said you were big…but I didn’t say you were bigger than him.”

He pulled his hand and yours out of his pants and the next second, he was on you. His hand was around your neck, his other holding your jaw, and his face just inches away from yours. “You fucking little brat. You’re lucky I don’t make you get on your knees and choke you on my cock.”

“Kiss me, daddy.”

And just like that, he was no longer upset with you. It was hilarious how easily you could push this man into anything you wanted. And he didn’t even care, he just wanted to give you everything you could think to ask for.

He sighed, glancing around. “I can’t do that, baby, not here.”

Then where? That was when you finally understood. He wanted you back so badly, because where else would you be able to do this? He could get a hotel room but if anyone ever saw you, there would be no defense. It would be apparent what you guys were doing. Your house? Your parents were always around. That only left his house and if Laurie was going to be gone…maybe you didn’t see much harm in that.

“Say yes,” he whispered.

You should have never turned around to look at him. He had won, there was no way you could deny him anymore. You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He smiled and your heart stuttered. He was the most beautiful man in the world. “I’ll let Laurie know...I’ll tell her this was why I was out here so long. And you, angel, need to go straight home, shove a toy in that pussy, and make some videos for daddy.”

It was weeks later than Andy told you he had a surprise for you. A few months had gone by. You hadn’t returned to the Barber home since the dinner and you kept your usual contact with Andy. Just more sending pictures and videos and texting every second it was possible.

He was still thrilled that you were going back for the summer and regularly checked in just to make sure that you didn’t change your mind about it. You still had a few months and he was constantly worried you would feel a sudden burst of guilt. It wasn’t too farfetched, actually.

When you got home, your mother informed you that you had received a package. She claimed it didn’t say who it was from. You knew what that meant. You had checked your phone that morning and saw a text informing you to expect something.

You texted Andy, I got it, then you went to your drawers to pick out something skimpy and lacy.

Good. Take off all your clothes.

Odd, he usually wanted you wearing something. You did as was asked of you and let him know when you were ready for more instruction.

Go to your bathroom with the box.

Once more, you let him know when you’d complied with his orders.

Open the box.

Inside was another smaller box, a picture clearly displaying the product. He bought you a dildo, a rather large one. You didn’t normally get toys this size, they were harder to film with.

Before you could respond, he texted again. Get it out of the box and clean it really well, then stick it to the floor.

Again, you followed his directions. Once it was set up and immovable, you let him know.

Get your laptop, we’re going to Skype.

That left you naked in front of your laptop that was a few feet away. He had you sitting with your legs bent and spread wide so he could see your pussy.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, that was the first thing you noticed. The second was his background, you didn’t recognize it.

“Where are you, daddy?”

“Home. My office. Laurie’s sister is in town so they both went out to see her. Focus, baby. I’m going to send you some videos that I want you to watch.”

“Videos?” You had a feeling you already knew what he meant. And mere seconds later, got confirmation through the email link he sent to you. Porn. Not surprising and you weren’t really opposed.

The videos he sent you were all starred older men, many roleplaying as the stepfather, and younger women playing the innocent, naïve daughter. Older than you mostly, but still significantly younger than the men they were fucking. The videos started tame, small, just cheesy scenarios and rough sex following. But as he sent you more, the men became more dominant. They would choke, pull hair, spank, call her degrading names. You didn’t hate any of it.

He wouldn’t let you touch yourself and he didn’t touch himself. He just watched you the entire time, sometimes talking and asking you questions, but he mainly just wanted you focusing on this. He made you keep your legs open so he could make sure you weren’t being sneaky, which was slightly humiliating. You felt that voicing that, however, would be considered talking back.

It was nearly an hour later that he requested you show him how wet you were. Your fingers frantically ran through your cunt and you held them out toward the camera. He told you to pause the video and get on the dildo. You gracelessly rolled onto your knees, your legs just a little tired from the uncomfortable position he’d directed you to hold for so long. You climbed over the toy, one hand holding it as you straddled it.

“Just take it slow, baby girl.”

You carefully spread your knees further, bringing your pussy closer to the head of the fake cock. You heard him shifting as soon as if touched your skin. You weren’t as nervous as you should have been, you figured you were wet enough to take it all. That insatiable longing to be filled and ruthlessly fucked by him clouded your mind.

As soon as it was inside you by what probably wasn’t even an inch, you froze. Yes, bigger than anything you’d ever taken. It stung a little, yet you didn’t want to pull off completely. You kind of liked the pain anyway.

“Keep going.”

“It hurts.”

“Just try for me, angel.”

You set your hands to the floor, once again spreading your legs wider. The ache didn’t dull as you kept going. “Daddy, I think it’s too big.”

“I’m bigger, that’s why I want you to get used to it.”

Bigger? Even though you were struggling to handle this, you wanted him instead of the toy. You wanted him on top, forcing you to take his cock, cooing to you and kissing your face the whole time. This was a flawed plan that he came up with because you were going to need some major convincing to get any further on this thing.

“Take a minute,” he decided, and you needed no further prompt to pull off.

You hissed lightly, looking at it. You had barely made it down the head. So, this was going to be one of those long calls.

“Use your mouth,” he instructed.

That you could do. You leaned over it, immediately dropping down until it hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flickered up to the screen where you saw his arm moving so slowly, back and forth. You would ask later if you could see him, when you didn’t have something in your mouth.

“Baby doll, you are fucking beautiful.”

You hummed, pulling back and then sliding back down.

“Gag on it. I want to hear you choking.”

You prepped your throat by bobbing up and down, taking it a little further each time. It wasn’t until your nose was hovering just above the floor that you gagged loudly. You backed off hurriedly but did it once more, a second time, a third, a fourth, until he told you to stop.

“Stay there, sweetheart, keep it down your throat. Try swallowing around it. I want you to get used to that, too. That’s how I love having my cock sucked.”

You obeyed, attempting to swallow around the thick piece of silicone. Those tries were followed by a lot of short coughs, gagging noises, and your body moving almost violently every time you got just a little too ahead of yourself. You were suddenly very thankful that you’d woken up late, since you’d stayed up until almost 5 in the morning talking to him, and hadn’t had time to eat anything.

“You think you can do it now?”

You hummed and hoped he wouldn’t press for more. You weren’t sure. You were nervous to try but it wasn’t like he was going to let you off that easy.

“Okay, try again.”

Positioning yourself over it, you realized you were much wetter now. Getting the head inside was easy enough but just as soon, it started to hurt again.

“You okay, princess?”

“Yeah.” You turned your attention down and tried to force yourself to relax. You were nervous, double that now because you didn’t want to fail in front of Andy. You wanted to show him that you knew what you were doing and that when he finally fucked you, it was going to be perfect. You didn’t want him to think of you as some inexperienced little girl.

“Remember, take it easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You never thought you would have an issue with him babying you. “I wish this was your cock, daddy.”

He hummed as if it was a question but was much more focused on your comfort than your attempts to distract him.

“Mhm,” you returned. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me. I can’t wait to be filled up and dripping with your cum.”

“I’ll cover you in my cum, sweetheart. You wanna try taking a little more?”

You hadn’t moved and it was still aching, but your mind was getting hazy. You were thinking about Andy and how good he was going to fuck you. You wanted it so hard and so fast that you didn’t think the dildo would even suffice. You lowered a tad too fast, earning a disapproving sound from him.

And yes, it hurt, but admitting any type of defeat was beyond out of the question. “Fuck, daddy, it’s so big,” you sighed. You didn’t pull off, but you tried shifting your hips to get a little more comfortable.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

You used your arms for balance and began pulling back carefully before dropping back down. You did this several more times until it was no longer uncomfortably painful. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

You pushed yourself up, balancing on your knees as your hands came up to your breasts. “Can I see you?”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You wanna see me?”

You nodded. “Please?”

He sat up, pushing the laptop back as he stood. You finally got to see that hard stomach you had been pressed against that night and it did not disappoint. You had no idea that he was going to look so strong and beautiful—and honestly, what the hell was he doing with you? You were confident enough and sometimes, some days when things were just going your way, you even loved how you looked. But Andy was inhumanly, unfairly breathtaking.

Then you saw his cock and you instantly whimpered. He was so big, bigger than the toy just as he’d claimed. You’d suspected he was exaggerating, most men did. He laid his cock out on the desk, tip leaking, skin angry and red.

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“What, honey?”

“I can’t wait for summer. I need you now.”

“Just be patient. You need to get a little more accustomed to the toy first because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“You want daddy to make it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Touch your clit, princess. I want to see you come.”

Your hand snapped down to your cunt, mindlessly searching for, and at times successfully catching, that hypersensitive spot. As soon as you heard him grunting, jerking himself off to the sight of you, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

You watched his arm move, the way his muscles tensed, you noticed the veins. He wasn’t the kind of man to show off. His suits were always fitted and occasionally, he wore a short sleeve tee, but you were starting to realize he was rather modest. It was this secret that he finally told you, he was finally showing you parts of himself that you never would have known about had he not extended some type of trust to you.

You needed him to fuck you. You needed him wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest, hips thrusting into yours. You were bouncing on the dildo now, uncaring of how much it hurt, fingers still rubbing large, unskilled circles into your clit. You were high off him, completely entranced and focused on Andy. “Daddy…”

“You close?”

“Yes. Can I please come?”

“You can come, angel.” He stroked himself faster, opposite hand settling on the desk as he leaned over a little.

You took as much of the dildo as you could and stayed, just focusing on touching your clit. You whimpered and whined as you approached your finish, mewling ‘daddy’ at least a dozen times, and told him several times that you needed him inside you, and promised you would do anything for his cock. He was quiet even though he was still fucking his fist, wanting to hear every sound you were making for him.

You nearly collapsed when your orgasm hit. Thankfully, instead of down—because seriously, this was an obnoxiously large toy and there was still so much that wasn’t inside you yet—you fell forward and caught yourself with both hands. You continued to roll your hips, haphazardly moving your hair out of the way with one hand at a time so he could see your breasts move and just how far down you were getting. One feeling you never quite got rid of, no matter what you were doing, no matter how good whatever you were being fucked with was: his praise was even better than coming.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he blurted out. You heard one of his knees buckle, it hit the desk he was standing behind.

“Are you close, daddy?”

He hummed shortly.

“I wish I was there, daddy. I want to taste you so bad.”

And that was all he needed. With a slight groan, his cum streaked out onto the desk between him and his laptop. His hand slowed but didn’t fully stop until he was done coming. He fell back into his chair, chest rising and falling with his quick breaths.

“You want me to come over, daddy? I could help you clean your desk.”

He scoffed. “Come on, princess, don’t start being a tease.”

“I’m not,” you promised. “Really, I’ll come over if you want me to.”

He finally looked back at the screen, eyes moving over you as you pushed yourself back onto your knees. Though you still felt the toy was too big, it no longer hurt so you were counting this a success. If you continued to use it every day until you were working for him again, fucking him wouldn’t be so difficult. At least you hoped.

“You wanna come over? You’re not scared of getting caught anymore?”

You shrugged. Yes, you were still terrified but your pathetic desire to be touched by that man could make you do some pretty stupid things.

“Don’t be a brat,” he scoffed.

“Then you should come here. My parents won’t notice.”

“I’m not some uncontrollably horny teenage boy you can convince to sneak in through your window. Come on, you just gotta wait a little longer.”

You sighed. “But I want you.”

“I know, trust me, I want you…” His eyes lowered on the screen and he sighed. “I want to taste you, too. Especially after you just finished.”

You leaned forward to grab the edge of the laptop and pulled it closer. “Look, daddy, I took a lot.”

“You did, baby,” he agreed, voice still just a little light. You came down much faster than him. You had to stall and get him ready to go before he decided it was time to end the call. You wanted to see him. In person. And you were not opposed to playing dirty.

“Do you want me to try again? I can do more—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, angel. You did good today, you need to rest before we do this again. Maybe take a day or two.”

A day or two? Fuck that. He couldn’t see your face, all he could actually see was the dildo still buried in your pussy. You looked down, finding your slick was dripping down the toy. This was going to be easy. You took your fingers and ran them up, collecting what had leaked out of you. You brought it up to your mouth and moaned lewdly—you had to be a little extra, just to make sure he knew.

“Sweetheart,” he warned.

“I wish you could taste me, too, daddy. I’m really good.”

“Come on,” he complained. “Stop it, right now.”

“I could get in my car right now, daddy. We could drive out to that dead-end street by the park. Just one quick, little taste and then I’ll come back home and get into bed and make some more videos for you.”

He said nothing, which you always knew actually meant that you were closer than he wanted to let on.

“Please, daddy? I just need something…summer is so far away.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, finally sitting up straight in the chair. “Damn it, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, daddy but I really, really need you.” You started to pull your hips up and then slowly slid back down. “Can’t you hear how wet I still am?”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

You shoved the laptop back, leaning down on your forearms. “Really?”

“But you’re going to keep that toy inside your pussy.”

“What?”

“Keep it right where it is. Get dressed. Drive to the dead-end street. Wait for me. Oh, bring a towel.”

“A towel?” You tried not to sound too excited, but you knew you’d failed. He wasn’t really planning on fucking you, was he? You wanted it, you would never say no to that man, but you hadn’t thought it would be so easy.

“You’ll need to bite down on something when I’m spanking you.”

Oh, fuck.