#ooh lovely take; cause for sure early on you could spot a bunch of the usual tropes of the times (quite misleading in hindsight)

[skullrock]

the movie - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

prompt: hi! can you write a steve x reader fic where they’re having a movie night with robin cause they’re all best friends but robin ends up leaving early cause she had something to do so it’s just reader and steve and they start cuddling, reader keeps moving herself to try and get comfortable and doesnt realize she’s grinding against steve and he’s super flustered and hard and: smut happens. thank you! (bonus points if it’s super slow and sensual)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut n swearin’

a/n: sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy!

===

Robin yawns loudly, then looks at her watch. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“What?!” you and Steve ask in unison.

“The movie just started,” you stress. “And Winona is in it – I know how much you like Winona!”

“Sorry,” she says, getting up with her jacket and shrugging it on. “The last two movies have been a blast, though.”

As Robin goes to leave, she gives Steve a subtle wink and he rolls his eyes. You and Steve had been dating for a while but had never really gotten much alone time – Robin dips out to give you both some space.

You say your goodbyes and then it’s silence, except for the television.

“We don’t have to keep watching,” you say. “You can go home.”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, I – I like Winona, too.”

You nod, smiling happily, and scoot closer to him. Steve blushes, but you don’t see it – it’s a little too dim right now, anyway. Your hand reaches for his and you wrap your fingers together, leaning slightly into him. The position gets uncomfortable quickly, however.

“Steve?” you ask timidly.

He hums in response.

“Can we – lay down?”

Steve swallows hard, blood rushing to his cheeks. “Yeah, th- that would fine.”

You both lay down, Steve wrapping an arm tightly around you, the other going underneath. You enjoy the feeling of his warmth on your back, smelling his cologne and detergent. You’re stiff for a few minutes before relaxing into him – you’d never cuddled like this before. It’s nice and you feel safe, as does Steve, and he really needs that.

But he feels something else when you try to shift.

You adjust yourself, feeling your shirt riding up and bunching underneath you. Then you adjust another time because you can’t get comfortable. Then your shirt rides up again.

Steve is trying to act nonchalant, but the feeling of you virtually grinding into him was making him strain against his jeans. It was uncomfortable and quite painful; he tries to adjust himself, but ends up just grinding on you, making your breath hitch. Steve clears his throat nervously, hoping you couldn’t feel him – but you definitelydid. Smiling to yourself, you press tighter into him, and he lets out a strangled moan.

“You like that?” you ask quietly. You try to sound confident, but you’re truly nervous. Your throat feels dry and your body feels hot.

“I’m sorry,” he groans, embarrassed.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “I like it.”

Steve swallows hard again, tightening his grip around you. He presses his pelvis up against your ass once more and you moan lightly. Steve reaches his hand up to cup a breast, and you bite your lip. He rolls his thumb over the fabric and his lips attach to your neck. You moan and press yourself into him and he moans back.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the movie?” he teases, lips tracing your jaw while he props himself up on his elbow to reach.

“Shouldn’t you?”

“I’m watchin’ something else.”

“Ooh, smooth talker.”

Steve rests his head on yours, giggling, and you giggle back. He surprises you by slipping a hand under your shirt and you moan as it fondles you.

“Hand is cold,” you quip.

“I’ll just warm it up here.” He stills his hand and smirks against your neck, kissing more.

“Bastard.”

“Is this the worst thing I could do to you?”

“Probably.”

He smiles again, then flips you onto your back. Your pupils are blown and hair a mess. He thinks you’re beautiful like this.

“Hey,” he says nervously. “Are you okay with this?”

“I’ve wanted to have you for a long time, Stevie boy,” you say, smiling. He crinkles his nose at the name, but you continue. “Please keep going.”

His lips meet yours quickly as he straddles you. His hands reach up into your shirt and you gasp and the cold and the sensation, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. Kissing Steve makes you feel lightheaded and unbalanced, and you thank the stars that you’re laying down for this. His hands work softly and slowly under the cotton, enjoying how smooth your skin feels on his fingertips. He takes in every inch of you, trying to memorize it. His lips slip to your neck again and they kiss and suck. He listens to your gasps and moans, memorizing the best spots.

You tug on his hair to get him to come back up to your lips, then work your way down his neck. He hisses at the contact and squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the feeling of your lips on his neck. You kiss and lick, smiling as he slowly loses it. Your hands run up his shirt and you tug it off of him, gasping slightly as your eyes drink in his chest.

“My eyes are up here,” he jokes, and you roll yours. You sit up and take off your shirt, and now he gasps.

“Uh, my eyes are up here,” you mock, and he pushes you back down gently, kissing down your chest. Your eyes roll back as he kisses across your breasts, finally going and taking a perked nipple into his mouth. You hiss and he grins cockily.

“You like that, baby?” he asks against your skin.

“Don’t call me that,” you beg, but he gently nips your skin and you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Okay, doll,” he says, then laughs, as if it’s funny.

“I could walk away,” you remind. You snake a hand down to his bulge and he hisses, burying his head into your skin. You smile. “Don’t want that, do you?”

Steve groans and pulls you up, chests pressing together as you kiss. You lose your balance, but his arms are around you, steading you.

“Bedroom?” he breathes.

“It’s here somewhere.”

He sighs and snakes his arm down to the waistband of your sweats. He slips his hand in and it finds your underwear, and he dips a finger under the fabric to feel how wet you are. You gasp at the contact, and he smirks. “I could walk away.”

Quickly, you push past him to the bedroom. He follows you closely, seemingly hypnotized as he watches you. You turn around and twirl him so that the back of his knees are against the bed and he lowers himself down. You straddle him and he swears he died and went to heaven while you kiss him, grinding yourself into him. You slip off after a moment and reach down to his waistband, looking at him for approval. He nods curtly. Your lips meet his again as you slowly unbutton him. His hips buck as you undo his fly, and he lifts his hips off the bed to let you take his jeans off. You rub him through his briefs as he moans into your mouth.

“Wanna see you,” he whispers against your lips. His hands go to your sweats again and you nod. He takes them off slowly, letting the fabric tickle your skin as it runs down your legs. You step out of them and climb onto the bed. Steve crawls on top of you and his hips buck into yours a few times as he relishes in the contact.

“Steve,” you whisper. Your eyes meet and you smile softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leans into it, enjoying the softness. “You’re so handsome.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers back. “So beautiful, Y/N.”

You pull him down one last time and he slips your underwear off. A finger lightly rests at your opening and you moan, nodding to let him know it’s okay. He slips it in, and you choke on a gasp, head burying into the pillow behind you. Steve whimpers at how tight and wet you are, making eye contact the entire time. Watching you is the most sinful thing in the world, he reckons, and starts to pump in and out as you write underneath him.

Not wanting to neglect him, you push his underwear down with your feet. He goes to crack a joke but his cut off by the feeling of your warm hand on his length. He’s in bliss, eyes squeezing shut again as he continues his pace, and you start yours. You match speeds and it’s so hot, too hot, and the coil in your guts builds way too soon.

“Steve, please,” you whimper, and he’s not one to say no. You point him towards the bedside table, and he grabs a condom, ripping it with his teeth, winking at you with a smirk on his face. After putting it on, he lines up with you and his hand rests against your cheek, forehead on yours.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Steve pushes in slowly, both of you gasping. He settles into you and you groan, adjusting for a moment. Steve runs his thumb over your cheekbones, and you nestle your head into his touch. After a moment you nod, and he pulls out before thrusting back in.

It’s an electrifying feeling, making your stomach flip. Your eyes stay locked with his and his lips part slightly, a groan low in his throat. It’s soft and slow, and you can feel every part of him. His skin against yours, soft and warm; his heartbeat in his chest; his finger, still rubbing your cheekbones gingerly. You reach up and cup his face again and he sighs happily, a smile forming on his face. His hand leaves your face and you frown before feeling his fingers rubbing circles onto your clit, feeling just right. You let out a strangled moan and Steve does the same in response, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You okay?” he breathes.

“So okay,” you breathe. “You feel so good, Steve.”

Steve goes a bit faster now, but still slow enough that you can feel the roll of his hips. He presses open mouthed kisses to your neck, moaning all the while. You think his moan has to be the hottest sound alive, and you feel your stomach tighten.

You go to say that you’re close, you’re almost there, but what comes out is “I love you.”

Instead of stopping and leaving, he moans loudly. “I love you.”

Steve rests his forehead on yours again as you both reach your climaxes, spurred on by the confession. You both whisper it back and forth, louder and louder, until you both cum at the same time, kissing sloppily but slowly, happy to feel the other one. He rests his head on your chest and listens to your heartbeat as he catches his breath, and you play lazily with his hair.

“Did you mean it?” he pants. “Do you?”

“Of course,” you smile. “I love you, Steve.”

You feel him smile into your skin, and he turns it to place a kiss above your heart. “I love you, too.”

===

@harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @harringtonisadingus @sassisaluxury @gothackedalready @willowrose99 @pxtrickhxckstettxr @wolfish-willow @harringtown @m-blasterrr​ @anerroroccurrrrred​ @marvels-gurl​ @the-almond-dinger​

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter nine: the second skeleton

(if watching alex on his friday night live streams has taught me anything, it's that people are most themselves under two circumstances: late at night or when they're full of alcohol)

“Sam? Joey?”

Sam opened her eyes, and Marla and Dan lingered right over her and Joey. Her head spun a bit, and she realized she had been laying on a flat bed next to Joey without a pillow. She rubbed her eyes, while Joey groaned in his throat.

“What time is it?” she asked them.

“It's almost two o'clock in the morning,” Marla replied. “We got lost on the way back here.” She flashed Dan a dirty look.

“I told you we should've turned at that stoplight—we were about to get on the turnpike and head up to the heart of Boston otherwise. You should've listened to me.”

“I was,” she sneered, “otherwise, yes, we would've wound up in Boston. You should be thanking me for turning the car around in time.” She then rolled her eyes and she returned to Sam and Joey on the foldout bed. “Anyways—we got you guys some water and something to eat. Danny insisted on getting Joey something dry and salty to help with his stomach, so—”

She reached down to Joey's shoulder, and she gently shook him awake.

“Joey—Joey—” she gently said. He rolled his head over so some of his black curls covered part of his face. “Hey, Joey—”

“Joe?” Dan called out next to her.

“Joey,” Sam joined in, a soft whisper right into his ear. “Joey—”

“Mother—huh?” He never opened his eyes but he did raise his eyebrows for them.

“We got you some potato chips, dude,” Dan told him and he held the little bag of potato chips in question up before his face. Sam noticed him opening his eyes by just a mere slit and then he reached up for it for himself.

“And then for Miss Shelley,” Marla started, and she gave Sam a bottle of water and a small bag of trail mix.

“Something to keep me going for the night, I presume,” she cracked as she sat upright next to Joey. Her head spun a bit more from the contrast of laying flat on her back. She shook her head about a bit.

“You alright?” Marla asked her.

“I sat up too fast,” she replied as she unscrewed the bottle cap and took a swig of water. She then lay back down flat on her back next to Joey: he opened the bag of chips with two fingers and lay it upon his stomach so he could easily reach in there. Sam rubbed her brow: her head spun and her stomach turned.

“Ooh, god, I don't feel good,” she confessed.

“Well, I gotta go back to the room,” Marla told her. “I'm beat and I smell like an ashtray that was loaded up with booze at one point. You guys just want to stay around here for a bit and then I'll come and get you guys when it's light out again?”

“Sure, why not?”

“We'll get breakfast, too,” Dan added from behind her.

“Yeah, we'll get you guys some breakfast,” Marla said. “But you guys just hang out here—maybe take a walk. You're in Providence so—” She turned to Joey. “—it's not like being in upstate New York where the sidewalks roll up early on.”

“We can do anything we damn well please,” Joey muttered.

“Exactly! Alright, we'll see you guys in a little while.” Marla patted Sam's hand as it rested upon her unsettled stomach. She lowered her other hand to her right side, and away from Joey. Once Marla and Dan were out of the room, they just lay there in silence for a moment. The only sound came from the rest of the audience members out in the theater and a bit of chatter around the corner. Sam closed her eyes and she pictured Alex posted there with his little guitar upon his lap. She could see it in his eyes. There was something more to that boy than she believed, and yet he was afraid to show it to her.

“I wanna take a walk,” Joey spoke out of the blue. Sam rolled her head over for a look at the side of his face. “But not right now, anyways.”

“Just—eventually,” she followed along.

“Yeah, but I really just wanna lay here for a moment,” he confessed. “Just wanna be still for a moment.”

He reached into the chip bag rested upon his slender stomach and took out a few stiff, perfect chips, and he stuck them into his mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said with that hand up to his mouth. “They had the right idea in mind there with those.”

“Already feeling better?” she asked him.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” He swallowed, and then he picked up the bag and showed it to her. “Want some?”

“Nah, I'm good,” she assured him, and she felt the trail mix next to her. He picked out a couple more but that crunching wasn't loud enough for the guitar outside of their room. It sounded like someone was struggling to play a backwards riff. Sam lifted her head for a look outside the door: no one there.

“That's not Danny,” Joey remarked with his mouth full.

“Scott maybe?” she wondered as she lay her head back down. He shook his head and swallowed that bite.

“No idea.”

“Whoa, what was that riff, Alex?” Greg hollered from across the floor.

“There's your answer,” Joey said in a low voice and with a raise of his eyebrows and a slight little gyration of his head.

“Huh?” Alex called out as he put his fingers across the guitar's neck.

“Yeah, play that again,” Eric commanded him, and Alex played it again. He struggled with it at first, but then he kept on strumming and messing with the fingering, and eventually he got a handle on it. Downwards and yet it seemed to flow. Bit of a bounce to it, even a swirl. Heavy and strong, just like Testament themselves, but there was a weird, almost dreamlike feel to it.

“What was that?” Eric asked him.

“Dunno, I heard it in a music store earlier before the wedding,” he confessed. “The dude in there told me it was from some band out of Seattle called Soundgarden. It's been stuck in my head since then. Forget what it's called, though.”

“Kinda cool sounding, though,” Sam remarked in a low voice, but Joey rolled his eyes and shoveled in more chips.

She frowned at that. On one hand, she wanted to be a friend to Joey and she wanted Alex to eat his words about him. But then again, she thought back to what she and Joey had talked about after the scuffle outside of the cafe in Syracuse. The fact Joey had such a grudge against Alex all because he supposedly asked him an innocuous question made her squirm in her spot. She picked up the bag of trail mix next to her and she opened it up for herself.

“Here, you want help with that?” Joey offered her over the voices outside of the room there.

“Nah, I got it.” She poured out a small handful of peanuts, raisins, chocolate chips, and little pretzels, and given she lay on her back still, she had to be careful not to spill all over herself. It was two o'clock in the morning following a day trip from New York City, a big steampunk wedding, and then a big concert, and yet she was wide awake and sick to her stomach.

“Lemme ask you sump'n,” he started again, and that time he pushed the bag of chips down towards the waist of his jeans and he folded his hands over his stomach.

She swallowed. “Go ahead.”

“Do you ever dream of the future?” he asked her.

“Of course. I dream of a number of things actually.”

“Well, I often dream of like—starting a family. Getting married and being in a nice place in upstate New York somewhere. I'm getting kinda old, I'm still not steady yet with the whole career thing, and my pants are always too tight, though—I dunno if I'll ever have kids, to be perfectly honest. I don't want a kid when I know I'm royally fucked up in the head. I'll just be like one of those people who owns a bunch of dogs and horses and lives out in the country 'cause I'm bit of a country boy. But I do like the idea of—pleasing, though.”

She looked over at the dreamy expression on his face as he gazed up at the ceiling overhead.

“I dream of a woman who can take care of me and I return the favor of loving her 'til the day I die.”

“That's so sweet,” she breathed. “You know, I dream of a mysterious man who tells me where to go next.”

“Oh, yeah?” Joey rolled his head over and knitted his eyebrows together at that.

“Yeah. He's kinda funny looking, though. But yeah—sometimes I'll see him when I'm at a crossroads in life and then I'll ask him where to go next. Marla's seen him in her dreams, too.”

“Huh.” He raised his eyebrows at that. “Marla's seen him, too?”

“Yeah. She told me it's a metaphor for guidance or something—it was during the Stormtroopers of Death tour so I can't really recall the full details.” She paused for a second. “God, I can't believe it's been two years since the Stormtroopers of Death tour. It almost feels like a fever dream at this point.”

“Same with my coming into Anthrax,” he added.

She moved the trail mix to her side and, careful not to push herself into him, she rolled over onto her side to alleviate the feeling in her stomach. Joey rolled his head over for a better look at her.

“May I ask you,” she started, “why do you even drink if you have dreams like that? Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Because it's there,” he confessed. “Like I said, Sam—I'm the outsider in the band. The upstate boy and the bachelor. Danny and Frankie are kind of like the closest things I have to friends there, but that's about it. Scott and Charlie don't talk to me much.”

“Have you tried?”

“Definitely. Without a doubt. But Scott's got his own problems to deal with and now there's the whole fallout from Charlie and Marla's break up that he's havin' to deal with now.”

“And now Scott's getting married,” Sam recalled in a soft voice.

“And now Scott's getting married,” Joey echoed. “I really don't have much of anyone to talk to otherwise, 'cause Danny's got a girl, too. And Frankie lives in the Bronx, up by you—it's not like I can visit him much, though.”

“What about your hockey buddies?” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “That guy at the wedding?”

“They're all either like that or they've moved on to the professional world. I tried getting back together with him, but—” He shook his head. “—guess not.”

“So the result is to drink?”

He shrugged his shoulders again. Meanwhile, outside the room, Alex and Greg's voices lowered down to whispers. The sound of bass strings caught their ear. Sam had the urge to run out there and chat with Greg, but she needed to keep her word to Marla, and she needed to fess up with Joey.

“Pretty much.”

“You should turn to art,” she suggested. “Become an artist, and you don't have to do that all the time.”

“I ain't no artist,” he insisted with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“Marla told me earlier that expanding your horizons is the whole point of being an artist,” she recalled, “you're obviously a singer, and you're obviously a good singer to boot. You should play on that craft and you should soak your feet in something new.”

“I dunno—what if no one likes it?” he said.

“So what if no one likes it? I can say, 'dude, Joey Belladonna made this!' in your defense. It won't be much, but it'll be a start. We all need to start from somewhere.”

“True.”

“How about your drumming?” she continued. “Have you thought of doing more with that?”

“Oh, yeah. I've thought about bringin' up to Charlie, but he just seems so elusive at this point. Another dream of mine is to start a band of my own and just play for hours on end. Play the drums and sing at the same time like Phil Collins. Just drum like Charlie or Bill Ward and sing like Steve Perry. But the possibility of doing that is a whole other question altogether.”

“I don't think I understand you just yet, Joseph Bellardini,” she admitted, to which he shook his head.

“I don't think anyone does. My parents don't even understand me. You know, they're of the type where they don't believe in sex until marriage.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, they tell me to find a girl and then settle down with her. But—” He shrugged his shoulders. “—I dunno, to be honest.”

“What do you mean, you don't know?” she asked him as she propped the side of her head up inside of her left hand. He eyed her figure, now filled out after two years of school. The voices outside of the room fell away and thus, they were left in silence.

“I don't know if I can handle myself before marriage,” he confessed in a low voice. “There's—a lot in there. And I don't really know how to put a handle on it.”

“Have you ever thought of—touching yourself?” she asked him.

“Touching myself?” He frowned at that.

“Yeah. Like—between the legs.”

And he smirked at that. “Well, yeah, I've touched myself there. I do have a digestive system after all.”

“No, I mean—” She wrinkled her nose at that. “I mean—for pleasure.”

He ran his tongue over his dark lips, and his deep brown eyes locked onto hers. As dark as night. As rich as venom. He then sighed through his nose.

“Hey, I've seen you naked,” she pointed out. “If I can see you naked, I can see you with your hand there.”

He then nibbled on his bottom lip again. Without another moment's hesitation, he took the bag of chips off of his stomach. Sam lay still as he unbuttoned his jeans. The flat wide silver bracelet on his right wrist glimmered under the ceiling lights.

“What's the story behind that bracelet?” she asked him. “Every time I see you, you're always wearing it.”

“I've worn this thing since I started playing in bands,” he told her. “It just feels right to me—bein' a lead singer and bein' the lead singer of a metal band no less.”

He then reached down the front of his jeans. She pursed her lips together as he raised his knees up closer to him.

“Are they out there?” he asked her in a near whisper.

“As far as I know, no.”

“Okay.”

His tight jeans relaxed around his hips and thighs. She watched his fingers caress over his own skin. She had only done it just herself not long ago, on both her own skin as well as his, and something in the back of her mind told her that that was where he liked it best. Indeed, he nibbled on his lip as he prodded himself with the pad of his thumb.

“Just like that,” she encouraged him in a low voice. “Just exactly like that.”

“I actually kinda like that,” he confessed as he stroked himself harder. He glanced over at her body. “You don't mind me lookin', do you?”

“Whatever works,” she said. “We're all about being comfortable with each other here.”

His brown eyes grazed over the slightly fuller hourglass shape of her body and he nibbled on his bottom lip again. Sam lay perfectly still as he touched himself right there next to her.

“I feel it coming,” he confessed.

“Would you like a napkin or something?”

“I think I saw some napkins over there by the door—” He nodded towards the doorway, and she rolled off of the bed with her head still spinning. But she persisted to the small stack of paper napkins on the table near the door, and she handed a few to him.

“Yeah—that's good—thank you.” He opened his legs a bit more so he could better clean up.

“You wanna take your pants off?” she asked him as she pressed her hands to her hips.

“Nah—I think I got it.”

She thought about what Marla had told her. She needed to come forth with him in her intentions with him, especially after what he had said to her. Once he had mopped up his mess, she moved the trail mix and the water bottle to the side and she lay back down on the bed next to him.

“I'm gonna keep you out of trouble, Joey,” she vowed as she put her arm around his chest. “You're a good boy. You don't need that shit in your life.”

He rolled his head over the edge of the bed for a better look over at her

“Well, I'm gonna tell you this right now, Sam I am—it's a long tour.”

She shook her head.

“It's alright,” she assured him. “I've got it covered. At least for the first month of it.”

“How so?”

“Emile promised me to cover the next month's rent. So I can come along with you guys on this tour.”

He showed her that notorious lopsided grin again. Sam gazed into his brown eyes, and she felt closer to him right then and there. She got to see him without clothes on more than one occasion, but now the second time was for a different reason. She thought about a touch on his chest, but she decided not to do that just yet.

“How your stomach feelin' by the way?” Joey asked her. “Maybe we can take a walk together. I feel I've released a little bit just now.”

“It's still a little queasy—we can lay here for the rest of the night if you'd like. A little cat nap and then we can walk around the place at sunrise.”

“Ooh, yeah! That sounds like a good idea.”

The voices outside of the room returned right then, and Joey reached down so as to refasten his jeans. Sam thought about their visit to her parents' house, and she realized that her mother never answered her question about how Joey resembled to that other man. Indeed, she started to wonder if that other man was someone she needed to know as she heard the guys from Testament searching for something important. Joey closed his eyes at the sounds of their voices, but Sam paid close attention to them.

“—hope we can hunt it down, though,” Chuck was saying.

“'Hunted Down'!” Alex declared. “'Hunted Down'! That's what it was called. The riff I was playing earlier.”

“God,” Joey muttered with a shake of his head.

“What?” Sam whispered to him.

He then opened his eyes. She could tell he was sleepy and the fact they were laying on a literal bed didn't help matters, either. “If I'm being perfectly honest, I really wanna leave that kid alone—but he's such a hot shot, though.”

“I don't think he is,” she confessed. “I think he's kinda like you, to be honest.”

“How so?” Joey looked disgusted at that.

“I dunno. But I just feel it, though. I feel like there's something there behind that cool demeanor...” She thought back to the encounter in Syracuse and the slight raise of those dark, deep set eyebrows at her. There was also that piece of rice paper in the bottom of her drawer back home. “Remember what I asked you that night in Syracuse? Why can't you be nice to him, especially after all you just told me?”

Joey didn't reply to that. Instead, he gazed up at the ceiling in silence. But Sam stayed there next to him to prove as a comfort to him. Within seconds, his eyelids drooped and he dozed off right there next to her, and complete with her arm around his chest. His slender little body was warm and delicate to the touch. She wanted him to stay that way forever.

She could feel her eyelids weighing down as well. It was late after all.

He never answered her, and he never did by the time they woke up from their little two hour nap.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Country Roads, Take Me Home: Chap. 4

Fandom: NCIS LA

Characters: Marty Deeks, Kensi Blye

Read Chapters 1-3 Here

                                    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Deeks and Kensi were up early the next morning to start their drive to Nevada. All was quiet from Bill and Carol’s RV and they were able to leave without saying goodbye to their whacky neighbors. 

They stopped for breakfast on their way out of town at a small local diner that, according to one Yelp review, had “the best donuts in the world.” Kensi couldn’t disagree, they were pretty amazing.

“So, onto Nevada?” she said around a mouthful of Boston creme.

“Great Basin. Should be awesome. I thought we could tour the Lehman caves and maybe do some stargazing.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Although thanks to your creativity we both already saw stars last night.”

She kicked him good-naturedly under the table. “That was a one time only. You have to come up with your own creativity next time.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a grin. His gaze caught on something above her head and she frowned. “What do you think happened there?”

Kensi turned to follow his gaze. On the wall was a large blank spot with some exposed wiring. “Looks like there used to be a TV there,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows and Kensi immediately shook her head. “I know what you’re thinking and there’s no way. It is not possible that we’ve stumbled onto yet another crime. Not on this vacation. We promised. We said nothing like this could possibly happen this year.”

“Can I get you anything else?” Carmen, their server, interrupted their conversation.

Deeks nodded toward the empty spot on the wall. “Hey Carmen, something happen to your TV?” “Yeah,” she said. “So weird. Somebody stole it the other day. Emptied the register too. Owner’s pissed about it.”

“You didn’t catch anything on your security cameras?” Kensi asked.

She shook her head. “We only have the one and it’s at the back door. Police are investigating, but it’s not a high priority, you know?”

“Sorry to hear that,” Deeks said. “I think we’re all set here, just the check when you have a second.”

“Stop thinking about it,” Kensi said as they walked back to the RV.

“How do you know what I’m thinking about?” Deeks asked. “You’re not in my head.”

Kensi rolled her eyes. “I know you and your detective brain. You’re still thinking about that TV.”

“Well you have to admit it’s a hell of a coincidence,” he said. “Bill and Carol show up with a TV, a TV near the campsite goes missing…”

“Maybe you need to stop thinking with your detective brain and remember with your lawyer brain that that is called circumstantial evidence and will not hold up in a court of law.”

“I’m not saying we need to do anything I’m just suggesting…”

“Well stop suggesting and start driving. Our cave tour is at three and we don’t want to miss it.”

Kensi dozed off as Deeks drove, waking up as they crossed the border into Nevada. “Hey there Sleeping Beauty,” Deeks said as she stretched and rolled out her neck. “Welcome to ‘The Silver State.’ Want to make a detour to Vegas and get hitched?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “We’re already married.”

“Vow renewal?”

“Only if I get another wedding cake out of it.”

“I think I can make that happen.”

They made it to the RV park with plenty of time to spare before their cave tour. “Stay here,” he said after he’d parked.

He stepped outside and made a big show of looking around.

Kensi wrinkled her nose. “Deeks what are you doing?” 

He poked his head back in. “Checking for Bill and Carol. Coast is clear. You can come out.”

“Oh thank god,” she said, walking out to check out the view. Even from the parking lot it was beautiful. “I’m ready for some peace and quiet.”

“No baseball games.” Deeks wrapped his arms around her.

“No dogs.”

“No sex advice.”

Kensi nodded. “Definitely no sex advice.”

Half an hour later they met up with their guide and a small group of other tourists including a few kids at the mouth of the caves. “Okay everyone, my name is Marcus, I’m going to be your tour guide today,” he said. “We’re just waiting for a couple more people so we’ll give them about five more minutes and we’ll get started.”

“Nope! Hey! No need to wait! We’re here!”

“No…” Kensi said in quiet horror as she and Deeks both turned to see none other than Bill and Carol hustling toward them.

Bill was dressed in his finest vacation dad attire; a pair of cargo shorts with about twenty pockets and socks pulled up to nearly his knees with hiking boots. Carol on the other hand was sporting a necklace that, had it been real, would probably have been worth hundreds if not thousands of dollars and was definitely not standard spelunking attire.

“Bill and Carol Weekes reporting for duty!” Bill said, both of them out of breath. “Sorry we’re late. Had a dog problem.”

“That’s okay,” Marcus said. “All right everyone please listen carefully I’m going to go over a few of the rules for our tour today.” “I cannot believe this,” Kensi said under her breath as she plastered on a smile and answered Carol’s excited wave. “How is this possible?”

“Did you tell Carol our entire itinerary when we met them on the side of the road?” Deeks hissed.

“No! I mean…I mentioned some of the places. But I never expected them to decide to follow us the entire trip!”

“Hi! Please make sure you’re paying attention,” Marcus said pointedly, causing them both to clam up and continue listening to directions about not disturbing or touching anything in the caves and to watch out for low spots in the ceiling. 

“Make certain to watch your step and if you have children with you please keep track of them at all times. We don’t want anybody left behind,” Marcus finished. “Now you can all follow me single file as we enter the caves.”

Try as they might Kensi and Deeks ended up directly in front of Bill and Carol and once they were inside there wasn’t really any space to move further up in the group. “What a surprise,” Bill said, clapping Deeks so hard on the shoulder that he almost stumbled into a stalagmite.

“Yeah it really is,” Deeks said.

“Well you know we were just thinking about how wonderful it would be to see these caves so we rushed right over here and wouldn’t you know, we made it just in time!” Carol said excitedly.

“Once my Carol gets an idea you can’t get her off it!” Bill chuckled. “She wants to see a bunch of old rocks, a bunch of old rocks it is!”

They proceeded through the entire tour with Bill cracking jokes and elbowing Deeks in the ribs like they were old pals, while Carol oohed and aahed with every new rock formation. They’d opted to take the longer tour, and Kensi regretted every single second. The caves were beautiful, but the company was not.

By the time they exited the last cave Kensi had a raging headache and Deeks looked more sour than she’d ever seen him. The only saving grace was that Bill and Carol hadn’t obtained a parking slot within the park, but instead had needed to park at a separate campsite nearby. “Oh please come on over for dinner, I’m making beef stew,” Carol pleaded as they walked down the trail.

“Next time,” Deeks said. “The little lady’s got a headache, gotta get her home.”

“You two are racking up quite the number of rainchecks!” Carol said. “All right then, have a good evening. Toodles!”

With a little wave she and Bill scooted away to hopefully go wreak havoc on some new neighbors.

“Have I mentioned that I hate them?” Kensi asked, rubbing at her temples.

“Me too.” Deeks wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you back so you can take a nap and get rid of that headache.”

She woke an hour later feeling considerably better. When she sat up she found Deeks sitting at the table, laptop in front of him. “What are you doing?” she asked as she sat up.

“Sending pictures of Bill and Carol to Eric so he can run them through facial rec.”

She sat up. “What?!”

“Did you see that necklace Carol was wearing today?” Deeks asked. “She didn’t have that on the other day.”

“Women change their jewelry Deeks.”

“Remember the cruise ship? And Hawaii? And Jacksonville? When you just knew something was up?” He looked at her pointedly. “And your loving husband humored you and you turned out to be right and we took down the bad guys together?”

She rolled her eyes and scooted to the edge of the bed so she was closer to him. “Yes, I remember. Are you saying it’s my turn to trust your intuition?”

“I just feel like something’s up. We’ll run the background check and then we’ll know.”

“And then we can continue our vacation in peace?” She bent over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, then we can continue in peace.”

They’d just finished dinner when Eric called. “Hey Eric, you’re on speaker,” Deeks said, setting down his fork.

“Hi Eric!” Kensi said.

“Hey Kens, how are the parks?”

“Gorgeous. We’re totally loving it.”

“That’s awesome. So listen Deeks, I ran background checks on both Bill and Carol Weekes and they came back pretty clean. A couple parking tickets here and there, but no arrests, no domestic disturbances, nothing that would make them seem at all suspicious.”

Kensi shot Deeks a pointed look. “You’re sure Eric?” Deeks asked. “No incidences of dog violence?”

“Um…no?” Eric asked confused. “I didn’t specifically check for that though.”

“That’s okay,” Kensi said. “Thanks Eric, we appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t mention this to anybody, right?” Deeks asked.

If he had, they’d never hear the end of it. “No I didn’t, but is everything okay?” Eric asked, tone turning concerned.

“Yep, everything’s great, just my paranoia kicking into overdrive,” Deeks said quickly.

“Are you sure? Sam and Callen could be there in—“

“Bye Eric!” Deeks hung up. “How long do you think he’ll hold out before Callen and Sam interrogate it out of him?”

“Depends,” Kensi said. “If they’re at the mission right now we probably have until tomorrow morning. If they’re not, we might have until tomorrow night.”

“We could ditch our phones and turn off the wifi.”

“Eric would just track our plates. They know our basic plan, we won’t be hard to find. Was it worth it?”

“I guess.” He shook his head. “I just really had a feeling something was up with those two.”

She reached across the table for his hand. “It’s okay if you’re losing your touch. You are getting older.”

“Hey!”

She stood, pulling him along with her. “Come on old man. The stars are waiting. Unless it’s past your bedtime already?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Pretty soon you’ll be wearing cargo shorts and talking about how the price of cable keeps going up…”

He growled catching her around the waist and hoisting her over his shoulder. “Oh, I’ll show you who’s an old man!”

[twinkle-320]

You’re Gonna Be

Pairing: Drake x MC (Riley Nevin Walker) (TRR)

Word Count: 2500 +

Written for @choicesmonthlychallenge​ day 17 prompt - Surprise/plot twist

Warning: Language

Song Inspiration: You’re Gonna Be by Reba McEntire

Author’s Note:  This can be read as a stand alone or together with my story “Mommy-to-be”.  This is set in TRH but doesn’t follow canon.

6 pounds and 9 ounces, looking up at me Like I have all the answers, I hope I have the ones you need I’ve never really done this, now I know what scared is

“DRAKE!”

Drake shot up in bed, a cold sweat forming on his brow at the sound of Riley screaming his name.  Reaching over, he found her spot empty.  It had become common for her to wake up first the closer she got to the end of her pregnancy, but the sun wasn’t even up and the scream was not common. “Nevin, where are you?”

“Bathroom…” he heard her reply in a softer, shaky voice.

When he opened the door to their en suite, he saw her standing over the sinks, bracing her body with one hand on the vanity, the other clutched her stomach.  Drake rushed to her side.  “Nevin, what’s going on?”

“It’s time, Drake.”

“No…no…it, it can’t be time.  It’s early.”

“Tell that to Bean, Drake, cause this baby is coming.”

“You’re sure?”

Riley gestured down to the puddle under her feet.  “Well, unless I peed myself and these cramps are from the midnight nachos…I’m pretty sure.”

“Okay…okay…I’ll get you to the bed and get you clothes and grab the go bag.”

Drake wrapped his arm around Riley’s waist and guided her to the bed.  The contraction that had wracked her body when she screamed out for Drake finally eased and other than feeling uncomfortably wet, she felt fine as Drake moved about the room.  Within minutes he had gathered a change of clothes including her maternity leggings and a long sweater for her to put on.  She couldn’t help but laugh quietly to herself as she watched her normally calm, stoic husband fly around in panic mode.

“Do we need to time the contractions?” he asked.

“I mean, technically yes, but Dr. Ramirez said to come straight to the hospital if my water broke so…I don’t know if it matters.”

“Okay…okay,” he chanted as he threw some of his own things in a bag.  “We’ll do it anyway.  And, you’re sure it’s not too early?”

“It’s only a few days early, Drake and it’s not like we can stop it.”

Drake grabbed his phone.  “A few days, right…it’s five days.  Five days early isn’t bad,” he muttered.

Riley’s stopped midway through pulling on her leggings, staring at Drake.  Drake silently returned her awed gaze.  She was quite a sight standing in nothing but her bra, hunched over with her belly in the way and her pants half way up her legs.

“Five days?  You said ‘five days’?”

“Yeah…why?  You said that wasn’t bad.”

“Drake, what’s today’s date?”

“October 25th,” Drake replied.  “Oh…” he said as realization hit him, “it’s…”

“My mom’s birthday.”

Riley dropped back to the bed as tears sprung to her eyes.  Drake was at her side a second later, pulling her into a hug.  “Isn’t this a good thing?”

“It is,” she said, nodding and wiping her eyes.  “I have actually prayed for it but I didn’t think it would happen.  Bean is going to share a birthday with my mom.”

“Then Bean is in very good company.”  Drake stood and kissed the top of her head gently.  “Now…let’s finish getting dressed so we can get to the hospital?  It’s time we meet this baby and give it a proper name.”

A short time later, they were in the car and on their way.  Riley clutched Drake’s hand and timed her contractions while he drove.  Each one felt a little stronger but not completely intolerable.  Dr. Ramirez was waiting at the check-in desk of the private unit when they arrived and took them straight to their room.  It was a large suite where she would give birth and stay after with the baby.  Once she was in a gown and prepped, Drake helped her into bed so Dr. Ramirez could perform her first progress check.

“You’re five centimeters and one-hundred percent effaced.  I’m going to send in the anesthesiologist to administer your epidural.”

“Won’t that slow things down?  Can’t we wait a little bit?” Riley asked.

“It is possible that it could slow things down slightly, but you’ve only been in labor a little over an hour, Your Grace, and already made this much progress.  Any slow-down would be minimal with the pace at which you’re progressing.”

Riley nodded in understanding and Drake helped her sit up on the side of the bed for the next doctor who came in a few minutes later to administer the pain medication.

Dr. Ramirez had been correct; labor still progressed smoothly and Riley was a lot more comfortable.  At 8 AM, when they finally felt like it was an appropriate time to make calls, Drake left the room briefly to notify their friends.  Thirty minutes later he was back at Riley’s side when Dr. Ramirez announced it was time to push.  From there, everything was a blur.  Pushing was exhausting and it felt like it was never going to end.  When they had walked into the hospital, Riley knew their lives were going to be changing and she thought she was prepared but the whole experience was so much more than she ever expected, in so many ways.

————————————-

After recovery, bonding time, first feeding, and napping, Riley woke up alone in her room.  Drake had left a note that he ran to the cafeteria for some coffee.  Thankfully he had left her bag within arms reach and she grabbed it, pulling her 20 week ultrasound photo from the front pocket.

Lost in thought, she was staring at the picture when her door burst open and an enormous bunch of balloons bopped and squeezed their way in, followed by an overly elated Maxwell.  “Blossom, Grumpy Blossom and Baby Blossom…Uncle Max has arrived.”

Riley laughed.  “You’re lucky Drake isn’t here.  He hates when you call him that.”

Maxwell let the balloons float to the ceiling and rushed to Riley’s bed, pulling her into a hug.  “Even Drake can’t be grumpy today.”  When he pulled back, he noticed the ultrasound photo laying in her lap.  “What’s going on, Ri?  Why are you looking at that picture instead of holding a real live baby?  Where’s my baby blossom?”

“Blossoms,” Riley replied.

Maxwell looked at her confused.  “Blossoms? Blossoms…” he repeated.  “Blossoms…you mean?”

Riley nodded and smiled through happy tears.  “Blossoms, beans…however you want to say it.  Twins, Maxwell.  I came in thinking I was taking one baby home and I’m leaving with two.”

“What?  How?”

“I guess I’m just a fucking medical marvel.  That’s why I was looking at the picture, trying to figure out how we missed it.”

“You had no idea?”

“At my early dating scan they saw two sacs, but only one had a baby in it and they told me that happens sometimes.  By 20 weeks, there was only one…or so they thought.”

“This is the best news EVER!”

“Tone it down, Beaumont.”

Maxwell and Riley turned to the door to see Drake entering with a cup of coffee and two teddy bears tucked under his arms.

“For once I’m not gonna tone it down, Drake.  This is amazing!”  Maxwell pulled Drake into an embrace, patting him on the back while the coffee shook precariously in his hand, but Drake couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re right, Maxwell…it is amazing.”

Maxwell bopped on the balls of his feet.  “So…where are they?”

“Routine checks with the pediatrician,” Drake replied.  “I passed the nurse on my way in and she said they are bringing them back now.”

On cue, two nurses appeared pushing two bassinets, the babies inside sleeping peacefully.  After the requisite bracelet checks to confirm the babies were with the right mom, the nurses left the room.  Maxwell stood over the bassinets, beaming.  “So what are they?”

“Babies, Maxwell…they’re babies,” Drake huffed.

Riley playful smacked Drake, who had taken a seat next to her on the edge of the bed.  “One boy, one girl.”

“Oh.My.God.  A bean and a blossom,” Maxwell cooed.  “Can I hold one, can I hold one?”

Drake just shook his head and chuckled at Maxwell’s exuberance.  “I guess if you didn’t break Bartie, we don’t have to worry about you holding our babies.”

“I’m great with babies, Drake.  Babies love me.”

Maxwell leaned into the bassinet and gently lifted the baby, cradling it to his chest while he whispered shooshing noises and hummed a little tune.  Drake rose from the bed to lift out the other baby for Riley to hold.  

“Which one do I have?” Maxwell asked.

“Look at the hat, Maxwell,” Riley laughed.

Maxwell peered down at the tiny blue hat on the baby in his arms.  “Ooh, ooh, I have the boy!  I’m gonna teach you so much stuff, little bean.  We’re gonna dance and run with peacocks and shoot arrows at apples...”

“Hmm…I’ve seen your work with a bow and arrow, Max.  Maybe we’ll leave that part off the list of things to teach him,” Riley said.  In her arms, her sweet baby girl began to coo and whimper, so Riley rocked gently back and forth, softly tapping her little bottom until she was quiet again.  “My mom said that always worked with me…she called it the butt pat.”

Riley’s eyes felt heavy so she handed the baby to Drake and leaned against her pillows but before she could even close her eyes, they were once again greeted by visitors arriving.

Liam and Hana walked through the door, their arms laden with stuffed animals and flowers.   “Congratulations!” they exclaimed in unison.  Liam walked over to Drake, gazing affectionately at the baby in his arms.  “So…do we have a Crown Prince or Princess.”

Riley raised herself back up to a seated position.  “Um…well…” she replied, looking over at Maxwell.  

Liam followed her gaze.  When he saw Maxwell with a baby, a look of utter confusion crossed his face as he looked back and forth between the two.

“Surprise!” Riley exclaimed.  “It’s one of each.”

“I…I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“They call it a hidden twin,” Drake explained.

“A hidden twin?”

“Yep,” Riley replied.  “Apparently it’s super rare, especially with fraternal twins but of course it would happen to me.  I mean, why not…meet a prince at a bar, join a social season, fall in love with the Prince’s best friend, become a Duchess, name your unborn baby the Royal Heir and then have a hidden twin.  Crazy, rare shit just seems to happen to me.”

“This…this is wonderful.  I am so happy for you.”  Liam moved and pulled Drake into a hug, careful not to squish the baby while Hana embraced Riley.

“How are you both handling this so well?” Hana asked.

Drake and Riley looked at each other and laughed.  “Umm…we’ve had a few hours to get used to the idea.  We didn’t exactly handle it well at first,” Drake admitted.

“What Drake means to say is that he decided it was an appropriate time to quote Friends and told the doctor that we only ordered one.”

Hana gasped.  “Drake?  You didn’t?”

“I was in shock!  And I don’t think it’s any worse than Riley asking Dr. Ramirez if she was seeing things or exclaiming ‘This is fucking crazy’!”

“Listen…in my defense it was either that or cry…I don’t think either was the best option.  I was in shock too, and scared.  So scared.  I’ve already been wondering how I will be a good mother to one baby.”

Drake leaned down and kissed Riley softly on the lips.  “I keep telling you you’ll be great, now just doubly great.”

“This is the best day ever!” Maxwell exclaimed as he carefully handed the sleeping little man to Hana.

Drake looked at Riley who had tears glistening in her eyes.  “It is,” Drake agreed, “it’s just a little bitter sweet for Nevin.”

They all turned their questioning eyes to their friend, who had tears falling down her cheeks where she sat in bed.  “Drake knows this but, today would have been my mom’s birthday,” she shared.  “When they told me my due date, I secretly hoped and prayed that it would happen a little early like this but…now that it has, it’s just hard to know they will never meet her or celebrate it with her.”

Hana sat down on the other side of Riley and held her friend’s hand.  “Some people believe that babies are sent from Heaven…it might sound silly but I believe it and I believe they met your mom before they came to be with you.”

Riley hugged Hana.  “Thank you,” she whispered as she composed herself before turning to Liam.  “So, how does this work now with the decree for the Royal Heir?”

“Well, it’s written to say your first born child, so I guess it would be whichever child was delivered first.”

Riley looked up at Drake, their eyes holding a conversation that only they understood until he nodded in agreement.  “I guess it’s time we make it official then,” Riley said.  “I’d like you all to formally meet Lord Jackson Nevin Walker and Crown Princess Aislynn Emily Walker.”

“Oh, Riley, I love their names,” Hana gushed.

“Thank you.  I think it’s fairly obvious we weren’t expecting to have to name two babies but, we kind of had an idea what we wanted.  It was important to us that my mom and Drake’s dad be included somehow.”

“It is a fitting honor for them both,” Liam declared.  “Jackson would be proud of the family you’ve built, Drake.  And Riley…I never had the pleasure of knowing your mother, but if you, as her daughter, are any indication of the woman she was, then I have no doubt she was remarkable.  These two precious miracles hit the jackpot when they got you as parents.”

Riley swore she saw tears coming to Drake’s eyes and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Thanks brother, that means a lot.”

After Drake and Liam embraced one more time, everyone got the last of their baby snuggles and headed out to let Riley rest.

When it was just their new little family of four, Drake laid down beside Riley, cradling Aislynn while Riley fussed over Jackson.

“Quite a day, huh, Nevin.”

“You can say that again.  Next time I’m getting like 10 ultrasounds.”

“Next time?  These guys aren’t even a day old and you’re already talking about next time?”

Riley shrugged.  “I’ve always wanted a big family.  Look at them…don’t tell me you don’t want more too.”

“I do…but’s let see how we do with these two first.  This is a whole new world for both of us.”

“Well…I may not know everything there is to know about being a mother and I am still so scared, but I will tell you this much; no one will love them more and if anyone ever tries to mess with them, I will fuck them up.”

Drake laughed.  “Okay mama bear, settle down.”  After placing Aislynn back in her bassinet, he took Jackson and laid him down too.  Leaning over to kiss Riley, he whispered, “You were amazing today.  I love you so damn much, Nevin.”

“I love you, too Drake.”

“Get some sleep, baby…I have a feeling there’s not much of it in our future.”

Riley nodded as her heavy eyelids finally gave way and she drifted off while her family, her world, slept all around her.

[katedrakeohd]

This is for you @sirbeepsalot 🌹🥀🌺🌻🌼🌷⚘

I've had a bunch of asks in my inbox forever and need to finally get around to them. I was inspired by @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria and her one shot about Drake meeting Camille at her flower shop. I went in a totally different direction, but hopefully this little story is just as fluffy. 💗

....

Paint me a Picture 🎨🌷🌼

Drake hummed happily to himself as he stepped out of his office. He had just finished a conference call with his fellow council members finalizing the plans for Kate's upcoming baby shower. They had put off the party for the past two months amid fears of the Coronavirus spreading into Cordonia. Kate's due date of March 12th was fast approaching and they had reached the decision to reduce the guest list to under ten people. This suited Drake just fine because he wasn't much of a party person, plus Kate found too much attention and fussing around more tiring than exciting at this point.

Checking his watch, Drake realizes that his call had taken him well into the lunch hour and he was quite hungry. The plush carpet of the stairs muted his footsteps as he descended toward the main hall. He could feel the empty space blanket him in its silence, and he wondered where Kate, Hana and the corgis were.

When he had last seen Kate that morning she had been reorganizing the supplies in the nursery for the fourth time. He had chuckled at her restless nesting and kissed her on the cheek before leaving to make his phone call.

"Go get some fresh air and sunshine, it'll do you good."

Kate sighed, rubbing her aching back. "I guess so. I wonder what Hana's up to this morning."

Drake shrugged, "Send her a text to come get you and take your mind off baby stuff."

"Thanks, I will."

..

As he turned the corner toward the kitchen, Drake could smell toasting bread, and the delicious aroma of chicken soup. His mouth waters and he swallows, breathing deeply as his stomach rumbles. The sound of laughter, clink of plates and drawers opening and closing made him smile. Over the past 8 1/2 months the kitchen staff had become familiar with Kate's unusual cravings at all hours of the day. Early on she had wanted salty snacks, and then halfway through her second trimester her cravings had her wanting sweets, during the last month she had started combining the two in odd ways. It made Drake shake his head in wonder, but he obliged her desires. And if Kate was happy, Drake was happy.

Walking into the kitchen unnoticed, he sees the staff loading up a tray with a platter of sandwiches, and a pitcher of iced tea.

"Good afternoon Ladies," he says, and the laughing chatter amongst the women stops.

"Lovely day indeed, Your Grace." Marie the head cook replies with a smile.

Drake eyes the sandwiches on the platter hungrily. He could imagine sinking his teeth into the golden toasted bread, and hearing the crunch. "Are these for Kate and Hana by any chance?"

"Why yes they are. They're taking lunch in the sunroom. I can add another drinking glass and another plate if you'd like to join them."

Drake nods, "That would be wonderful. How about if I take lunch to them then?"

Claire, the young kitchen helper, protests as she sees Drake reach for the tray. "Oh my goodness, Your Grace, let us do that. You go on ahead and we'll bring lunch to you. "

Drake grabs half of a sandwich, "Well, if you insist. I'll just take this to go then, thanks."

Turning around to leave the kitchen Drake raises the sandwich to his mouth and checks the contents before taking a bite. Lettuce, tomato and a slice of swiss cheese. Not bad, but could use some bacon.

..

In the sunroom the atmosphere is that of a bright summer's day despite the dull late winter landscape outside. Lush greenery, tropical flowers and golden sunshine fill the space and give it a pleasant warmth. Off to one side, chair cushions are clustered together on the tiled floor. At the moment they're serving as lounges for sunbathing, sleeping, corgis; but earlier the cushions had served as a comfy surface for a gentle yoga session for Kate and Hana. Now the two friends were standing at easels and painting, chatting back and forth about what to hang in the nursery.

"So you and Drake still don't know if you're having a boy or a girl right?"

Kate nods, "As much as I want to know now, it's still a mystery. Our doctor knows though."

Hana purses her lips in thought as she dabs some blue on her canvas, "So do you mind if I paint a gender neutral landscape instead of flowers?"

"Not at all. I'm still sticking with flowers though. The ones in here are just too beautiful not to paint. If it doesn't suit the theme of the nursery I'll just hang it somewhere else."

Hana rinses out her brush, setting it aside and selects a different one to line in some happy little trees in a dark brown. "I suppose Drake is hoping that you have a little boy."

"He won't admit it, but of course he does. He's itching to go camping and fishing, to kick a football around, toss a baseball with a son."

With a shrug Kate draws in some green stems on her yellow daffodils, "Of course these are all activities he could do with a daughter as well. I remember tossing around a baseball with my Dad in the backyard."

Opening the door and stepping into the sunroom Drake is met by the wall of heat and fragrant scent of flowers. He immediately feels overdressed as a trickle of sweat runs down his neck. "How do you ladies stand it in here?"

Kate turns away from her painting to look at Drake, "Oh Hi Honey, welcome to summer in March."

Under the shade of her Sun hat, Kate is wearing one of Drake's old denim shirts as a painter's smock, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. There's a green smudge of paint on her cheek. Drake notices that it appears that she's wearing little else other than flip flops.

"Uh, Kate? Are you naked under my shirt?"

Kate giggles, covering her mouth, putting another smudge of green on her face. "No silly. I'm wearing a bikini top and shorts." She glances down at herself, "I can see it looking that way though."

Hana is wearing a short summer dress, and her own Sun hat. "You look a little warm there Drake. I wouldn't mind if you decided to take off your shirt."

Kate snickers as she goes back to her painting, "Yeah Honey, don't be shy."

Drake clears his throat, loosening his top two buttons and rolling up his sleeves. "I think I'll just open a couple of windows instead."

Kate watches Drake crank open a window, appreciating the flex of the muscles in his forearms. The fresh air blows the fabric of his shirt against his chest, making it stick to the sweat on his skin. She realizes that he isn't wearing a tee underneath. Probably why he was reluctant to remove his shirt in Hana's company. Drake notices her watching him and gives her a wink as he walks across to open another window. "So what are you ladies painting today?"

Kate feels the cool breeze brush the hair off the back of her neck and she shivers with delight. "Thanks honey, I didn't realize just how warm it was getting in here."

Drake does a quick bow with flourish of his hand, "Always pleased to be of service, Your Grace."

Hana giggles, "We're painting flowers and landscapes, to answer your previous question."

Drake settles down on the floor with the corgis, resting his elbow on a cushion and rubbing a belly as one dog happily rolls over. "I have the pleasure of informing you ladies that iced tea and sandwiches are also on the way, for our lunch."

Hana wipes her brow, "Anything with Ice in it would be welcome right now. I first experienced cold tea when we were in Texas for Savannah's wedding. I wasn't sure if I'd like it."

Kate sighs, "Mmm, I love lemony iced tea in the summertime. I miss it from being back home."

Drake's stomach growls again, causing one of the corgis to give him a look and then retreat to a spot in the shade, "Sorry Fluffers, didn't mean to disturb you. Don't worry I'm not hungry enough to eat you, close but no."

"I could go for a big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs right now," Kate says wistfully as she paints a tomato red poppy onto her canvas bouquet.

Drake groans, folding his arms behind his head as he leans back on the cushions and closes his eyes, "Oh stop, you're just making me more hungry."

Kate bites her lip, "Ooh, or pizza. A nice big slice of ole New York thin crust with extra cheese."

"STOP IT!" Drake barks out a laugh, chuckling as he wipes the sweat off his brow. "I ate half a sandwich on my way here, and it's really tasting like another half right about now."

Kate wipes her hands on a rag, "Ooh, what type of sandwich?"

Drake shrugs, "I dunno, there was cheese and some lettuce in there, maybe tomato?"

Kate kicks off her flip flops and walks across the warm floor tiles to stand over Drake, casting a shadow across him, hands on her hips. "And you didn't think to bring the rest of the sandwiches with you?"

Drake cracks an eye open to look up at his wife, his face scrunching up in amusement at her paint smudged face and raised eyebrows. "Hey, I tried to take the tray with me. But I don't think the girls in the kitchen trusted me to get the sandwiches this far without eating a few."

Kate nudges his leg playfully with her foot. "So true. We've all seen how much you like to eat."

Drake growls playfully, reaching out to grab for her ankle but she steps back out of his reach, "Can't help it if I'm a hungry man, c'mere you. I bet you taste like chicken."

"Nah ah, if I get down on those cushions with you I might never get back up. I'm going to wash up my hands and then take a seat over there at the table. Besides I think cannibalism is frowned upon in Cordonia."

Drake smirks at her and rolls over on his stomach, watching her walk away. "Mmm, golden fried chicken. You know how much I'm a breast and leg man."

Hana bursts out laughing, "Geez guys get a room."

Continue on to the next part

[theflashfics]

Phoenix // Cisco Ramon

Pairing: Cisco Ramon x reader

Summary: You encounter Cisco on at Jitters and reveal you are a professor of biomechanics and bioengineering, so he figures he could use your help on a fire-wielding meta case they are calling Phoenix - unaware that the meta is you. You eventually turn to him for help, burning a building in the process.

Warnings: Mention of family death, arson, very mild kissing

Word Count: 5182

Requests: Open! 

A/N:  If you see this, go to my inbox and request a oneshot - can be smut (I’d be more than happy for that). I’m really needing some inspiration and I think some dirty Flash oneshots would do the trick! I don’t care what kinks, pairings, just give me all the requests.

The line at Jitters was irritatingly long for that mild Monday morning. You were already late and the early morning chatter of Central City citizens felt like little bugs crawling on you – annoying. People weren’t your favourite. You just needed your Flash coffee and to get to work. You worked as a professor at the local college, majoring in biomechanics, bioengineering, and had a doctorate. The only part of your life you could salvage after the particle accelerator exploded and changed you. The students loved you even if you weren’t so fond of them – with a wry smile and a flick of the hand, you made everyone feel as if they had an inside joke with you. But they were tiring, and it took a great deal of energy to keep your composure in the early morning lessons, so coffee it was. “Damn, this line is taking forever,” you voiced your concerns under your breath. “Amen, sister,” someone grumbled. The voice, it turned out, belonged to the cute guy with shoulder length charcoal hair in front of you. He turned around to greet you with a toothy grin. You paused for a second – he was so cute. And you were sure you knew him from somewhere; maybe it was the hair…

You must have hesitated for a second too long because the cute guy waved his hand in front of your face and said, “Hello? Earth to…” “Y/N. And you.” You snapped back to life, grinning. “Cisco at your service,” he did a comical bow and came back up smiling, tucking his hair back – which you found matched his eyes, like melted chocolate. “And so, Cisco, do you wave your hand over the faces of all the girls you meet in cafes?” “Just the pretty ones.” He stuck his tongue out and moved up a spot in the line “Fuck off,” you said roughly, trying not to blush, pushing him up to the counter. “Ooh, spicy. Caliente.” He laughed and turned his attention to the waitress. “I’ll have one black coffee and a-“ he turned to you. “What?” You hissed, then begrudgingly said, “A Flash.” “Please?” He raised an eyebrow. “You offered,” you said, shrugging. “And a Flash for little miss cinnamon.” Cisco said. He payed for the coffees and took a step back. “By the way, I’m not sticking around. I’ve got to work.” You said, looking at your feet. Since the explosion, you’ve never really been good with talking to people. A bit rough around the edges, you might say.  “What do you do?” “Professor.” “Of?” “Bioengineering and biomechanics,” you replied drily. Cisco’s eyes narrowed a tad and you could almost see the cogs whirring in his mind, but instead had a usual snappy reply.

“Oh, she’s a smart one!” “Uh-uh.” “Not really one for small talk, are you.” “Nope.” “It’s a good thing you’re pretty then, Scary Spice.” You blushed considerably and let down your façade a bit. “You seem to have a thing for nicknames,” you commented. He nodded, grinning, and said, “You betcha.” He gave you another look that resembled the one after you told him what you had majored in. “Something you need?” You said snippily. “Would you take a day off work and help me out at STAR Labs with something?” He asked, twiddling his thumbs and looking apprehensive. You were glad you didn’t have your coffee because you would have choked on it. Instead, you raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Cisco. “Well, because me and my team are trying to find this metahuman who’s been destroying the city,” he hastily explained himself, “and you might be able to help us out, with what you know about bioengineering and mechanics and all that, it could be a massive help. If you want to, I mean.” You pretended to think about it, then shrugged. “I’m sure I could get a substitute to teach the class today. The syllabus is quite easy currently in the semester. So, sure. I’ll help you out.” Cisco fist pumped and then, seeing you looking quizzically at him, crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look nonchalant. 

“Just a warning, I’m not the best with people.” You reminded him. “Pffft, you’ve got a bunch a bunch of classes. You must be good. You’re good with me.” He said merrily. “Having students doesn’t mean I have friends,” you said coldly, collecting your coffee from the counter where it waited for you. It wasn’t a lie – you didn’t have many friends. You pushed away the old ones and anyone who tried was put out by your standoffish and faintly rude behaviour. Cisco frowned and followed quickly after you. As he caught up to you, you smiled to yourself. You liked him. But it was dangerous, because you had a feeling the meta that Cisco’s team was looking for was someone you knew really well. Plus, you had an uneasy feeling the you knew Cisco, and not in a good way. You arrived at STAR Labs with Cisco fifteen minutes later and patted your skirt down. You were wearing your teaching gear, a black pencil skirt and a tight black top, paired with fiery red heels that you walked in with scary purpose. Your H/C hair was straightened and fell in sheets beside your face. Makeup was only utilised because you thought it made you look intimidating; you used red lipstick and black eyeliner so sharp it could cut a man. Cisco remarked on how fiery it made you look. He wasn’t wrong – just scarily right. You walked through a concrete hallway to reach the main workplace of STAR Labs. 

“Welcome to the Cortex!” Cisco exclaimed, throwing his hands out as if presenting the place to someone important. You surveyed the place; mostly white, super advanced tech that your hands were itching to get a hold of. “What the fuck,” you said under your breath as a group of people walked into the Cortex. You recognized the slender brunette as Caitlin Snow – you had consulted her briefly while studying before the explosion, back when you felt normal – but you weren’t familiar with the others in the group. “Hey guuuys,” Cisco drew out the last word as they looked immediately disapproving of someone new in the lab. “This is Y/N,” he continued, “And I think she can give us a hand with this meta case.” “And you picked her up off the street…?” “No, Harry,” Caitlin jumped in, adressing the tall man firmly, who you assumed was Harrison Wells, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. One of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And she can most definitely give us a hand in figuring out this meta’s weakness.” You smiled gratefully at her but let it drop fast. The others mumbled, and Caitlin and Cisco tried to reason with them. “Enough of the foreplay, what’s this meta we’re talking about.” You chimed in, walking over to a computer and beginning to type. Cisco gave a pointed look and a grin to the rest of the group and they complied, following your steps and beginning to explain. 

“Well, if you’d let me get to my computer, I might let you know, little miss cinnamon,” Cisco said playfully shoving you over. You rolled your eyes and smiled, saying, “I liked Scary Spice better.” “Scary Spice it is. But anyway, this meta has caused millions of dollars in property damage. And do you know what her power is? Fire.” He pulled up images and videos of a leather clad woman who was on fire, throwing balls of flames towards buildings, laughing manically. But what really drew your eyes to it was the fire behind her, creating long, feather-like wispy flames, that resembled wings. You stared upon it all, and your heart sunk to your feet. The meta they were trying to find wasn’t just anyone - it was you. 

Since the particle accelerator exploded, you’ve had strange things happen around you – because of you. Things bursting into flames, people getting first degree burns around you in winter, your hands literally catching fire. You’d become one of the metahumans that were terrorising the news. At first, you tried to hide your powers, you were sweet and mild and normal before them; and after all, the Flash would come and take you to a prison. That would suck. Especially since all your family had been murdered in a freak fire the night of the particle accelerator incident, so no one would visit you. But in the end, so much bitterness and anger and hate built up inside of you that you wanted to destroy things, to watch it all burn. So now it was your name that was dancing across the news – not your real one, of course.

“I call her Pheonix,” Cisco announced proudly. You gave a tight-lipped smile to the group and nodded. A thought popped into your head – maybe if you helped them find you, and became their friend, you could infiltrate STAR Labs and burn everything. It was what they deserved for what they did to you. But Cisco, a voice in your head reminded you. You pushed that thought away and formulated a plan. A tall brunette, who Cisco had earlier referred to as Barry stepped in and starting speaking. “So, uh, the Flash told me-“ he shot a nervous look at you and you rolled your eyes. “Barry, I know you’re the Flash.” You said without taking your eyes off the computers. Everyone around you fell silent for a half second, then erupted into a mass of “What?! No!” You figured it out as soon as you walked into the room. The Flash had tried to find you and defeat you before – perhaps defeat is the wrong word, maybe subdue? – but was unsuccessful. It wasn’t hard to see from Barry’s build and voice that he was the Scarlet Speedster. “Oh, shut up!” You said, exasperated, “I honestly couldn’t care less. But I think I know where you could find your Phoenix next.” They turned their attention back to you and urged you on. You tapped away at a keyboard and pulled up a map of central city and the buildings that the Phoenix had burnt – the buildings that you had burnt.

“It’s a pattern. She’s hitting every third building diagonally, going in some sort of triangle. So, going off that, next place she’ll hit is that massive expensive hotel. Plus, she’s been striking every third day so she should be doing it tomorrow night at nine o’clock.” That was true, and you felt a twinge of irritation as you told Team Flash your plan, but if you were reluctant to help because of Phoenix they may think you are in a team with her, or maybe even figure out that you are her. Cisco hummed in agreeance. Barry nodded as well, “So, let’s set a trap for her.” “No,” said Cisco firmly. You were glad the rest of the group looked just as confused as you are. He realised no one was catching on so he stood up and explained further. “We did that last time, remember? And Barry and I ended up with a second-degree burn.” He turned to you and quickly said, “I’ve got powers and my other name is Vibe. I’ll explain later.” Your mind instantly clicked. Of course! That’s where you knew him from. You nearly ended up having to fight him but instead dived out of a burning window and flew away with your flaming wings. Afraid of looking too shocked, you just nodded and let him continue. “But that’s not the only reason. I don’t think she’s that bad, y’know?”

Wrong. 

“She tried to burn down two buildings, what’s right about that,” Harry said, furrowing his eyebrows. Cisco shrugged, struggling to get his point across. “But I saw something in her. She didn’t want to hurt people.” Team Flash looked dubious. “You know how she hit the eighth floor first?” They nodded. “That floor was under construction. No-one was working there, not even the construction workers. And she waited until Barry here had gotten everyone out of the building before she started burning everything.” “That’s true,” Barry chimed in. “And,” Cisco went on, “When she burnt Barry, I don’t think she meant to. And she most definitely didn’t want to fight me. She looked angry. Angry and scared.” You swallowed hard. They were getting closer to the truth with every word they said and yet they couldn’t seem to see that you were right in front of them. “Maybe she’s like me and Killer Frost? A different personality,” Caitlin suggested, walking to take a closer look at the videos still rolling of you ravaging the accounting building. 

“See, pause the video there,” she said, pointing at the freezeframe of your face, “Looking at her eyes; they’re like Killer Frost’s, except instead of ice, it’s fire.” “She’s not like that.” You said way too quickly. Everyone’s heads turned to you and you tried to explain yourself, your mind not finding anything. “I don’t know, I’m just getting a feeling.” “A vibe?” Cisco joked. “Funny.” “I am funny,” he mused. You shook your head, smiling at your feet. Cisco looked back at the group. “Look, we know that she doesn’t want to hurt people so let’s not hurt her. We’ll just talk to her. I think she’s good.” Stupid. They’re so stupid. I’m literally trying to burn the building down. “What if she’s not,” you said coldly. Team Flash stared at you, confused at your sudden mood change. “Some people aren’t good. And she’s not good. She’s hurting people. Maybe not physically. But what has she done for the city? Nothing but damage and destruction. She’s a meta. She’s a monster.” I’m a monster. “Y/N-“ Cisco started but you cut him off, picking up your purse. “I shouldn’t have come here.” You said shortly, collecting your purse off the desk and walking out, leaving Team Flash with questions.

A knock on your apartment door startled you. You had skipped out on all your remaining classes, letting the old substitute teach them. God, you hated that substitute. That’s all that seemed to flow through you these days – hate, anger and fear. Literally the worst emotions possible. And then finally, you met Cisco! He was cute, and sweet, and made you blush like a schoolgirl. What luck you had when he asked you to help out on a case about a dangerous meta – until you found out that meta was you. You ran home, swathed in self loathing and loathing for everyone else, as well. They were right, in some respects – you weren’t going to hurt anyone. But you were a monster. How did a plan to burn down STAR Labs manage to sneak into your mind? You had spent the rest of the day sulking in your messy apartment, entertaining yourself by sitting in the bath and creating small, inextinguishable fires underneath the crystal-clear water. It was an unusual sensation, prickly and fun. But it reminded you of what you were doing tomorrow night, so you got out of the bath, ordered a pizza, and sulked on your couch instead. 

You begrudgingly got up to answer the door and nearly slammed it close again when you saw Cisco. “What are you doing here?” You narrowed your eyes, all traces of makeup gone. “That’s not how you should greet your sexy newfound friend,” he pouted. That would have risen a smile out of you in other circumstances, but nothing could right now. “How did you find me?” You said dully. “Satellite.” “That’s creepy, you know.” “Haven’t you ever done a creepy thing?” He said in his usual fun manner. You sighed. “What are you doing here?” You repeated, fidgeting with the lock on the door. His smile fell a bit. “I was worried. Phoenix could have taken you.” “Why would she want anything to do with me?” You laughed dryly at the irony of the situation. Cisco shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted a reason to see you again,” he smiled sweetly, tucking a lock of chocolatey hair behind his ear. You perked up for a split second, grinning, then remembered what you’d done. “Trust me, you don’t.” You said bitterly, closing the door on him. You closed your eyes hard, then walked to your closet, pulling out a leathery suit, identical to the one Phoenix was wearing – the one you were wearing. “Hello, old friend,” you whispered, then began devising a plan.

It was the next night, and everything was going to plan. You had arrived earlier than Team Flash were expecting at that massive expensive hotel, disguised as the head janitor with your leather suit underneath. The plan was: send all janitors to different floors, set the janitor floor on fire with only you in it, wait for the Flash to come rescue everyone in the hotel, burn it to the ground, and leave. Leave Central City. You had no clue where you were going. Maybe Starling City? Maybe Paris? Just somewhere where they could fix you, take away your powers, leave you normal again. As you ordered the janitors away you felt guilt rising in your throat. Images of Cisco and his stupid gorgeous hair and stupid gorgeous eyes kept appearing in your head, and it didn’t help that you were going to see him tonight. You snapped back to life when you realised all the janitors were off the floor, so you stripped of your ugly uniform and revealed the leather underneath. It was black, with red detailing – quite similar to your outfit the other day when you met Cisco...Damnit, he’s in your head again. You pushed that aside and burnt the janitor uniform, leaving it as a pile of ash. Once again Cisco popped into your mind, grinning, laughing, touching you… In a split second there was a chink in your armour, and your mind took it, leading you to a lone computer in the janitor’s closet. You tapped away at the keyboard, sending a message to STAR Labs.

“Oh, shit!” Cisco said, sitting up straight in his chair with a worried look on his face, “Pheonix is early.” Barry swore under his breath. “Where?” He was in his red suit in a heartbeat. Cisco quickly redirected the satellite and told Barry of your whereabouts. “She’s burning the janitor’s floor. No one is on it – again.” Just after Barry whooshed away, STAR Labs received an alert. The shorter male frowned and displayed it onto the various screens in the Cortex. “Oh, no no no no no. This isn’t happening.” Cisco panicked, tucking his hair behind his ears. Through the intercom, Barry heard him and asked what happened. Cisco swallowed hard. “We just got a message from Pheonix. She must have hacked into a computer or something.” “OK, what does it say?” Barry urged Cisco on as he reached the burning hotel. There was a short pause, then a gasp (elicited from Caitlin as she read the message).

I HAVE Y/N.

“Oh, Scary Spice,” Cisco’s jaw hardened as he read the message repeatedly. How had this happened? “I should’ve stayed with her last night. Then this wouldn’t have happened.” He berated himself, head in hands. Harry walked in with his usual blasé expression and tone. “Nothing you can do about it now, Ramon. If Phoenix has Y/N then we get her back,” the scientist reasoned, shoving Cisco over so he could talk to Barry. “Get everyone out of that building,” he directed, and Barry responded with a grunt of affirmation. Cisco was biting his tongue – all he could think about was the danger that you were in. He stood up abruptly. “I’m going.” He stated, picking up his suit and Vibe gear from where they sat in a nearby duffel bag. “Cisco,” Caitlin chided, “You could get killed. Phoenix doesn’t sound so lenient this time, if she’s already got a hostage.” “I don’t care,” said Cisco roughly, “I’m the one who got her into this so I’m going to get her out.” Caitlin gave a furtive glance at Harry who shrugged. “Be safe,” she ended up saying. Cisco grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m always safe.” He then walked into a breach that led to your burning hotel floor.

You tapped your foot impatiently. There wasn’t much time left before this floor would crumble and bring the building down with it. Luckily, your fires could only be put out by you.  They were inextinguishable by anything (you’d fooled the Flash into thinking it was him who put out the fires, but it was really you) and it was very hot. You felt a familiar gust of wind and smiled deviously, turning around. “Hello, Fla-“ You stopped in your tracks, instead finding Cisco standing in front of a breach. Your mouth fell open but you pulled yourself together. “And I suppose you’ve come here to find Y/N,” you said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. Cisco – Vibe – took a step forward. “Where is she?” He growled. If he wasn’t disgusted by you then, you would have thought it rather sexy. “Why the urgency? For little ol’ Y/N?” You felt dirty saying it – like a jewellery thief taking words out of people’s mouths. “You’re not answering my questions.” He took another step forward. “And you mine,” you snarled. His façade faltered a slight. “Is she… hurt?” He said. “Not yet.” Which was partially true. You were going to be hurting a lot when he started fighting you to find Y/N. It was all rather ironic, you thought.

“I know you don’t want to hurt people, Phoenix.” Cisco’s hair fell in his eyes, and you felt the urge to tuck it behind his ear, but you realised you weren’t exactly in the position to do that. “What if I do?” You nearly yelled, igniting your hands with flames. Cisco cocked his head in a birdlike tilt. “What if I do?” You repeated. “I’m burning a building as we speak! I’ve burnt others, taken peoples jobs and maybe even homes! You don’t know anything about me. I’m a monster.” You tone fell to a whisper on the last sentence. Before Cisco said anything, the Flash whooshed into the room, making the flames flicker. “Phoenix, stop what you’re doing.” He said, preparing his hero speech, “I can stop you.” “Try,” you shrugged feebly. Barry instantly began whirring his arms, creating a vacuum in the room – but the flames thrived even more. “It’s not working,” he put a finger to his ear, talking to Harry. “Don’t bother talking to them,” you said, waving a hand, “The fires have only been put out the other times because I put them out. Not you and your windmill act.” Cisco and Barry exchanged worried glances.

“You need to stop this,” Cisco said, moving closer in a fighting stance. You didn’t move, only making your hands burst into flames once more. “I don’t want to dance this dance again, Vibe,” you said weakly. “You’re gonna have to, because I’m not letting Y/N be imprisoned by a crazy arsonist,” Cisco warned, holding his hands up. You looked around you, still in the same slouch you stood in when they arrived. Flames were swallowing the floor, nay the building. It was going to come down soon. Was this really who you were? Some crazy arsonist who befriends people only to burn down the place they work? You shook your head and gave a faint wave of the hand. Instantly, all the flames were extinguished, leaving a blackened ashy mess of a floor. You felt weak, you hadn’t slept in a while. Taking a shaky step forward, you saw how confused Barry and Cisco looked. There was only one way to make them take you back to STAR Labs and fix your powers. “Sorry about this,” you mumbled, then charged with all the strength you had at Cisco. In the split second you ran at him, he sent a flurry of vibrations towards you, knocking you down. You melted into darkness, and you were out cold.

“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Obviously not, Cisco. Look, she’s breathing.”

“Maybe it’s the steady pulse of death.”

“Ramon, I thought you were a scientist.”

“I am, Mr Tall Dark and Handsome. Can you brood somewhere else?”

“Guys, shhh. She’s waking up.”

Figures began swimming into your vision, voices making their way into your ears. You were lying down in some sort of cell. It had padded blue walls and a huge glass door, and there was a camera sitting in the top corner. You knew where you were: the particle accelerator had been refashioned into metahuman cells. Cisco had told you eagerly about them when you were there days earlier. How ironic it was that now you were on the other side of the thick glass cell. Of course, that meant that it dampened your powers. You tested it, giving a small flick of the hand, but could achieve nothing but a prickle in your fingertips. You opened your eyes fully, blinking the figures into vision – Harry, Cisco, Caitlin, Barry. “That’s not going to work, you know.” That voice belonged to Barry Allen. You let out a weak laugh. “If only it was always like this.” The others looked perplexed. You remembered they didn’t know that you, Y/N, were actually Phoenix. And they couldn’t have found out by taking off your mask, either. It had melded to you, and only you had the power to take it off. “Where’s Y/N?” Someone said, walking up to the cell. It was Cisco. You pushed yourself to sit up with your back against the back wall, knees up in front of you.

“Always with the questions, Cisco,” you attempted a grin, but your previous endeavours – the burning hotel one – had tired you out and the smile fell short. The chocolate haired male frowned and leaned up against a wall with his arms crossed. “You know my name.” It was a statement, but it sounded like a question. You nodded. “How?” He asked. “Not important.” “Where’s Y/N?” “Not important, either.” You deflected his questions. Cisco clenched his fists and his jaw hardened considerably. “Where. Is. Y/N. And stop doing those stupid little answers.” He growled. “What can I say, I’m not much for small talk,” you smiled faintly, and your words struck familiar in his mind. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, remembering back to two days ago in Jitters. Team Flash, whom you’d almost forgotten were there, looked thoroughly confused. Cisco turned back to you, eyebrows furrowed. “Have you been spying on me? On Y/N?” He accused, getting angrier. “For a smart guy, you’re not being that smart right now,” you laughed humourlessly. Cisco cocked his head once again in that birdlike motion. “I don’t have Y/N,” you stated. The group stared blankly at you. Upon realising their confusion, you peeled your mask from your face and shook out your hair, smiling weakly up at Cisco. “Surprise.”

Cisco’s face contorted from emotion to emotion, irritation, anger, betrayal, before landing on sadness. He shooed team flash out of the room and they quickly obeyed, knowing he needed to talk to you. You could see him trying to find the words as he paced before you. “I-“ He began, then put a hand up and started walking away. Sadness flooded through you, but he stopped at the control pad, opening the cell and then closing it again. Before it shut indefinitely, he squeezed through the crevice as it closed. “That was athletic,” you made a weak stab at a joke. He shrugged sadly, sitting down next to you in the same position – though looking far more put together than your dishevelled self. “I didn’t want to talk to you like that. Like an animal in a cage.” He said. “Am I not?” You said lightly, but Cisco’s face darkened and he said, “No.” You were silent for a few seconds. “Do you hate me?” You said, a tear slipping down your face. “Of course not,” Cisco murmured, taking hold of your hand; your heart gave a jolt. “I’m not mad, just… confused. Why are you doing this?”

You exhaled loudly. “I’m so tired. I’m tired, and angry, and scared. And I needed to release all that anger on something – not someone, I’m not a murderer – and when I got my powers it just became obvious that I should be doing that. So I became one of the metas on the news. It’s not like I enjoy doing it! I feel like absolute shit after it all happens. I just want it to go away. I don’t want my powers, Cisco.” You were sure you looked a treat – ashen face and tears rolling down your cheeks, but Cisco didn’t seem to mind. He reached up and pressed the pad of his thumb to your cheek, wiping away your tears. He looked at you with a sad expression on his gorgeous face. “Don’t pity me,” you said bitterly. “I’m not going to pity you, but I can help you.” You snapped your head to look at him. “You can get rid of my powers?” You asked feebly. Cisco shook his head and your smile faltered. “No, but I can train you,” he suggested. You let out another weak laugh. “So, I can be like the Flash? A hero?” “Absolutely.” There was more promise in his voice then you’d heard your whole life.

“Oh, Cisco,” you smiled, “What do you see in me?” A lock of his hair fell out from behind his ear and you finally lifted up your hand and pushed it back, your hand lingering. Suddenly, Cisco took hold of your face and kissed you, soft and gentle. “I see-“ he said between kisses –“a gorgeous-“ he slipped his tongue into your mouth -“smart girl-“ you moaned against his lips –“who may have gotten into a bit of trouble-“ he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours –“and is most definitely not a monster.” And for a few moments, all you heard was each other’s steady breathing. “Thankyou, Cisco.” You let out quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and he mumbled a “You’re welcome” against you before deepening the kiss. His hand fell to your hips and kept a loose grip there. His lips were soft against yours but you were hot, fiery, caliente.

“Hey, um, can you guys keep it PG in there? There’s cameras and it’s kind of awkward.” Barry’s voice came over the crackly intercom and you both let out an irritated groan. “So,” you said playfully, “How do you presume we get out of here?” Cisco shrugged. “I could use my natural athleticism to break us out, or,” he pulled you onto his lap, “we could do something else athletic.” “RAMON.” Harry’s voice was now at the intercom, but you just leaned into Cisco, laughing against his lips.

[maylovexhs]

Hi darlings! It’s May! So first thing first, THIS IS NOT AN IMAGINE OR UPDATE. ITS JUST ME TELLING MY EXPERIENCE ABOUT MY HARRY SHOW. YOU DON’T HAVE TO READ IT IF YOU WANT TO. I saw a bunch of people doing threads and posting about how wonderful their time is and I was like I want to do it! I, in no way am trying to show off or brag about it. I just want to post it here because I’m friendly with y’all and I’ll just have the story on here for safe keeping. So ignore if you want(I put the keep reading for that) but yeah here’s my concert experience. WARNING: BELOW THE CUT IS A LONG LONG LONG POST. ENJOY THE SHAKY VIDEOS AND MY ANNOYING VOICE. This all happened one month ago ughh procrastination is the devil

I WENT TO SEE HARRY FUCKING STYLES LIVE IN CONCERT NIGHT TWO MSG AND I BLEW A KISS AT HARRY AND HE BLEW A KISS BACK.

. . .

he knows I exist.

Harry Styles knows I goddamn exist.

okay, let’s me backtrack a day or two before my concert. Actually a week, shall we?

So, it’s a week before Harry’s shows in nyc and I’m at home in Brooklyn with no harry tickets for none of the nights because of course 1. Both nights are sold out 2. I couldn’t buy tickets online from strangers cause y’all ever heard of scams? So, I’m at home in misery cause all over my twitter all my mutuals are tweeting how excited they are to go and I’m like “fUcKiNg GrEaT!” I’m pretty sure I posted shit of me gloating on here. ANYWAYS FAST FORWARD TO JUNE 21st, 2018(Harry’s first night/show at msg) and I’m on my living rooms couch on twitter. AND I DONT KNOW IF IT WAS THE UNIVERSE SAYING ‘WE GOT YOU HONEY’ or just a coincidence but the first thing i See is on my timeline is a tweet from ticketmaster saying along the lines of “Due to miscounting . . . There are tickets available for Harry Styles at msg night two . . .SALE” and I . . .i can’t even explain how I felt. It was like destiny. Like “SIS YOU WERENT MEANT TO GET TICKETS A LONG TIME AGO YOURE SUPPOSED TO GET THEM NOW. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE” and I was like “fuck it! I’m going to see my mans in concert and I couldn’t care about how shitty the seats are. It’s Harry of all people” so, I download the Ticketmaster app and ask my mom and my chill ass mom is like ‘really? The day before? This is a sign. God must really want you to see harry” and I’m like “YES”. So I use my moms card(I payed her back after) and buy the two tickets. AND LET ME JUST SAY! THE TICKETS! I GOT LUCKY WITH THE TICKETS. My tickets were seat 8 and 9, row 7, section 113

DO YALL KNOW WHERE THAT IS? THATS RIGHT NEXT TO THE STAGE! THATS THE SIDE BACK OF THE STAGE. And remember Harry’s stage is 360 honeys so I was hyped up. Honestly I thought it’s row 7, it’s not like we are in front! It’s not like he’s gonna see us. I’m bringing this up later cause well, you’ll see. But just remember I’m row 7. So I print out my tickets and I text my friends “HOES GUESS WHAT?” And I immediately text my best friend emmy(her nickname) “BISH IDGAF ABOUT YOUR STRICT PARENTS I WILL DRAG AND SNEAK YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR THIS WE AINT MISSING HARRY. WE AINT MISSING SEEING THE MAN IVE BEEN IN LOVE WIG SINCE 2012” and thank god her parents said yes. Emmy and I spent like the next two hours like “Oh let’s make a sign that’s says sing Shania Twain still the one Harry!” and we talked about “what should we do in the city tomorrow before Harry’s show?” Our show day was a very busy day for us. Ready? Let’s go!

So, in the morning I had a college orientation with Emmy and my other friend(I’m calling her Anna for privacy reasons). I arrived there early so from 9:15 am, Anna Emmy and I were learning about our college and making our schedule. We left around 12:30 pm. Emmy and I decided to leave for the city after but we had to pee first so THANK YOU ANNA FOR LIVING CLOSE TO COLLEGE AND ALLOWING US TO USE YOUR BATHROOM. GRACIAS. Oooooh, fun fact: June 22nd was also my graduation date but Emmy and I wasn’t going in the first place so YAY!

Anyways we said goodbye to Anna and we took the train to the city. We stopped at canal street and went to Greenwich village? Why? My friend Emmy is a huge fan of Justin Bieber and 5 Seconds of Summer so we were just like “fuck it! Let’s go hunting for them! Maybe today’s our lucky day” so we are in Greenwich which justin was spotted in but with our luck we couldn’t find him. We were like ‘oh well! Let’s just stroll around’ so we walk and GUESS WHICH APARTMENT BUILDING WE WERE ABOUT TO WALK PAST BY?

HARRY’S. WE WERE ABOUT TO PAST HARRYS APARTMENT. WE WERE ABOUT TO WALK WHERE HARRY WALK. IM TOO HEADASS FOR HIM(btw I don’t stalk him, I didn’t stand outside his building, his apartment address is publicly online and I did not mean to walk past his apartment, IT JUST HAPPENED) I take out my phone and tell emmy where we were and luckily I took a sneak picture low quality of the building. BUT EMMY! EMMY! She was like “I WANT A GOOD QUALITY PICTURE!” Emmy goes, takes a picture of the doors and the security guards give her a mean look from inside the building. And we are like “ABORT MISSION! ABORT!” Moving on, we’re like if we can’t find Justin, we’ll try 5 Seconds of Summer. And guess what? We can’t find them either! At this time it was like, 3 or 4 Pm? And I really need to sit down cause ya girl has no energy whatsoever. So we take the train and go to the area where msg is and we get pizza. Btw msg area is mad busy. Like really busy. Continuing, we finish our pizza. We go check out the outside of msg and I learn that we aren’t allowed in until 6 pm(I heard it from girls outside) And i’m like okay? So Emmy and I buy and get these pride flags and we go to wait and sit outside where the driveway is. So we wait there for like an hour hoping we see anyone but we don’t cause that’s out fucking luck. But we saw like a dressing bag like the ones where suit and dresses are carried in. We highly doubt it was Harry’s suit but hey? Oh and I took a picture right here

Anyways it 6, we go inside, get through scanning and while we are in line, everyone decided to airdrop one direction memes and of course I joined

We were let in at 6:45 pm and we were going to our section. By going, WE RAN. Literally we had to be stopped by a security guard to see our tickets. I’m getting off point but we get to our section and I’m expecting us to be in the middle cause it says row 7. And Emmy tells me we are in the second row and I was just like “??? Our ticket say row 7” and Emmy shows me that the section starts with row 6 and I was just like “BITCH WE’RE CLOSER THAN I THOUGHT. WE’RE ROW 2 ACTUALLY”. So we were seated between where Sarah and Adam was going to be. This was our view

Then we put our shit down, I went to get my harry merch(I got a shirt) and we sat there in our seats waiting for Kacey to start at 8:30 and KACEY IS SO CUTE YALL HAVE NO IDEA SHE IS THE YEEHAW QUEEN. I USUALLY DONT LIKE COUNTRY MUSIC BUT THIS SISTER GOT SOME TUNES. Here’s me singing along(eXcUsE my cringy premature voice I’m 19) I was going crazy during crazy

Then Kacey leaves and we gotta wait another 40 minutes for Harry. I kid you not the whole arena was singing Olivia by 1d even the security guard was shook af

As I was saying, we had to wait 40 minutes more for Harry so it was like 9:30 and FUCKING FINALLY HE COMES OUT AND I SWEAR EVERYONE LOST IT 

ONLY ANGEL STARTED TO PLAY AND EVERYONE WAS SCREAMING. HE WAS SHINING IN HIS GODDAMN CALVIN KLEIN BLUE SUIT AND ISTG I KEPT TELLING MYSELF “BLOW KISSES AT HARRY! BLOW KISSES AT HARRY” SO THIS BISH HARRY COMES TO OUR SECTION I BLOW A KISS AT HIM LIKE THIS AND IDK IF HE SAW ME BUT HE BLEW A KISS WITH HIS HAND TO OUR SECTION AND YES IT GOT CAUGHT ON FUCKING CAMERA HOES

I WAS FUCKING SHAKING. CAUSE I WAS CERTAIN DURING THE CHAIN HE BLEW A KISS BACK AND IF HE BLEW A KISS AT ME DURING ONLY ANGEL IT WOULD BE THE FIRST OF TWO my heart is racing just remembering it. I’ll continue. So he finishes only angel and he introduces himself and he’s so cute I can’t even

Then they play woman and someone threw a bra on stage and I was screaming inside

Then they play Carolina, Stockholm syndrome, Anna, esny, jalboyh and finally fucking MEDICINE. I was going crazy during medicine as we all should. Sarah and Adam were fucking ripping the song up and I couldn’t be more proud. Then Harry talked to the crowd more and THIS HOE CALLED THE BACK(aka us) HIS BEST FRIENDS AND IM JUST LIKE THANK YOU. Then they start to play meet me in the hallway and the goddamn back screen goes down, blocking us from seeing Harry perform the song. EMMY AND I KEPT SHOUTING DISRESPECT AND THE GIRLS IN FRONT OF US WERE LAUGHING. then he the screen lifted up again as he finished the song and he goes down the walk to the b stage with mitch. Mitch is so cute fam. And we could see him get a bunch of flowers and I’m like “it’s what he deserves”. So he’s on b stage now and he begins to sing sweet creature and iicf AND DURING IICF WE ALL HAD OUR FLASHLIGHTS ON IT WAS SO NICE AND LIKE HEAVEN. MY BABY HARRY STARTED TO TEAR UP DURING THE SONG AND I JUST WANTED TO HUG HIM. OOH AND WHILE THEY WERE ON B STAGE, SARAH ADAM AND CLARE WENT OFF THE MAIN STAGE. ADAM AND SARAH WERE TALKING OFF STAGE NEAR US I THINK I HAVE A VIDEO BUT ITS TOO DARK. BUT BASICALLY THEY WERE TALKING AND I GUESS IT WAS ABOUT HOW THEY WERE PLAYING CAUSE ADAM KEPT MAKING A GUITAR GESTURE AND ADAM HAD SUCH A GREAT SMILE AND SARAH WAS SO HAPPY So Harry and Mitch come back and they all play two ghosts and then wmyb 

They finish wmyb and Harry talks to the crowd. He talks to a fan who was visiting from another country and he’s like “what did you do here?!?” being all excited. Then he talks to the girl who came with “I AM WITH CHILD” sign and then we found out she lied and harry criticizes her and he’s like “WE’RE ALL TRYING!” and I couldn’t stop laughing. Emmy said she lost some brain cells during that part. So harry begins to talk about sign of the times and me and Emmy were like “let’s shout FUCK TRUMP out loud”. WE DIDNT. We didn’t have the chance to but WE TRIED. The girls in front of us were smiling and laughing at us. I blame Harry cause he kept on talking so he couldn’t hear it anyways. Anyways sign of the times plays and everyone has their flashlights on. IT WAS MAGICAL.

So harry and the band leaves to do something and I’m like “wtf u going” so I start to record and they go under the stage. I guess they were doing a photo down there but they come back on a minute later.

They perform from the dining table and I WAS SO SAD I WAS READY TO FIGHT WHOEVER HURT MY BABY. then from the dining table was over and Harry’s like “I’m gonna sing another song” AND I FUCKING TOLD EMMY “WATCH IT BE STILL THE ONE” and BITCH I WAS CORRECT. So he brings Kacey on

They start to sing still the one and I was in my emotions fam and Kacey wore the rainbow dress and I was like YES QUEEN AND THEY BOTH MADE SO MUCH EYECONTACT IT WAS SO CUTE. Then Kacey leaves and they start to play the chain and I was like HELL YEAH AND DURING THE CHAIN HARRY SAID “DAMCE LIKE NO ONE IS NEXT TO YOU. YOURE NOT GOING TO SEE THESE PEOPLE TOMORROW” AND THAT HIT ME AND EVERYONE ELSE AND I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD THE WHOLE ARENA WAS SHAKING LIKE I COULDNT EVEN STAND BECAUSE I WAS AVOUT TO FALL FROM THE AMOUNT OF JUMPING GOING ON AND THIS IS WAS WHEN HE BLEW A KISS AT ME. SO ITS LIKE THE END OF THE SONG AND HE COMES TO THE BACK AND IMMEDIATELY START TO BLOW KISSES AT HIM WITH BOTH HANDS LIKE BEFORE AND I WAS PRETTY SURE HE SAW ME BECAUSE HE BLEW A KISS WITH BOTH HANDS IN MY DIRECTION AND THEN HE DID THAT TO ALL TE OTHER SECTIONS. BITCH I WAS SHAKING.

The chain ends and they start to play kiwi and I get sad af because I know it’s the last song and harrrys like “this is the last song” and inside I’m like “I KNOW HOE DONT RUB IT IN MY FACE” I have to applaud miss Sarah jones whose fucking drumming was amazing. She fuckingkilled it. Kiwi plays and everyone was losing their shit having the times of their lives and then in the middle of kiwi some girl splashed Harry with water and he sings “YOURE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT” HE GOES STRAIGHT SAVAGE AND SOAKS HER AND EVERYONE AROUND. kiwi finishes and Harry does the whale water spit and oh my god it was ICONIC AF. Harry leaves first then the rest of the band and I was just standing there like SHIT. Emmy had to drag me out. I felt wasted after the concert IT WAS A ONCE IN A LIFETIME EXPERIENCE. LET ME JUST TELL YOU IF YOU HAVE THE CHANCE TO SEE HARRY LIVE GO FOR IT DONT MISS YA CHANCE. A WHOLE DIFFERENT SIDE OF ME EMERGED THAT NIGHT SO THANK YOU HAROLD I HAD PROBABKY THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE THANKS TO YOU. EMMY AND I GOT TO DANCE WITH OUR PRIDE FLAGS AND WERE SO HAPPY. HARRY MAKES HIS SHOWS SO WELCOMING AND HAPPY. MISS CLARE IS SO CUTE. MITCH AND SARAH ARE SUCH PARENTS AND ADAM IS SUXH A GREAT FRIENDLY PERSON I MISS THEM SO MUCH THATS IT I MISS MY CONCERT SO MUCH I CRY

ALL PHOTO AND VIDEOS ARE CREDITED TO ME AND MY FRIENDS. DONT STEAL. I’ll post the full versions of the videos i have on my twitter. TUMBLR IS A DICK FOR ONLY ALLOWING GIFS of them. 

Btw should I also write about my 5sos iheartradio experience and seeing Harry at the Dunkirk premiere? Tell me if ya want to know byeeee

[erlenmeyertrash]

An Oddish Occurrence

…so i had this one sudden headcanon thanks to @prinxietys‘ post yesterday and. well. here are a bunch of words on it now whoops

Logan loved vocabulary.

He adored the intricacies of the English language- how there are so many ways to describe what happens in the world, how many different paths can be taken to convey a message. Linguistics, to him, was a wildly important science in its own right, with its own theories, history, rules, rule exceptions, and near-constant evolution. The logical side always enjoyed learning slang. Word-association games were his favorite (and Patton’s puns, although often rudimentary, did slightly impress him with Patton’s innate understanding of subtle wordplay). He would fight to the death for the Oxford comma. He knew the subconscious order of adjectives (opinion size age shape color origin material purpose) by heart.

…and poetry? Oh, don’t get him started.

The technique, the brainpower, the skill behind finding words that matched in syllable and sound, putting them together to form coherent sentences and tell stories… Logan marveled at all of it. From Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and Shakespearean sonnets to modern-day rap music, he definitely had a soft spot for brilliant balladry.

…That did not mean, however, he appreciated singing- specifically, Roman’s singing at 7:30 in the morning.

“Little town, it’s a quiet village

Every day like the one before

Little town, full of little people

Waking up to say…”

“FOR THE LOVE OF- DUDE. SHUT UP. IT’S SATURDAY.”

“…No, Sleeping Broody, the villagers all say Bonjour. That doesn’t even rhyme. Why would you think they s- HEY!”

Logan yawned and rolled out of bed, clumsily grabbing his glasses off the nightstand and adjusting them on his face as he did so. He heard Patton’s voice from the kitchen over Roman and Virgil’s bickering and sighed in relief- if anybody was well-versed in damage control, it was the fatherly side.

“All right, all right, you two. I know Thomas had an early start, what with the road trip and all, but it’s still a little early for fighting, don’cha think? Here- who wants to help with breakfast?”

The logical side perked up at the mention of food, getting dressed a bit faster before heading down the hall to the kitchen. Roman was pressing buttons on the coffeemaker with a dumbfounded expression; on the opposite side of the kitchen, Virgil was carefully pouring milk into a measuring cup as Patton rummaged through the fridge. At the sound of Logan’s footsteps, Patton glanced up and narrowly missed banging his head on the top of the fridge.

“Morning, Logan!”

Logan merely nodded in response, shuffling over and gently swatting Roman’s hands off the Keurig before pressing several buttons with well-practiced hands. Roman let out an indignant huff before reaching over to grab the cream and slide it closer.

“I could’ve figured it out, you know,” he grumbled, taking mugs out of the cabinet and passing them over. Logan just raised a sarcastic eyebrow in response.

Minutes later, the four of them were all gathered around the table, a steaming coffee cup and pancake plate sitting in front of each one.

“So!” Patton started brightly around a mouthful of pancake. He swallowed before continuing. “Since Thomas can kind of run on autopilot for this road trip, what does everybody have planned? I was just gonna watch him play on his old Gameboy- you guys have no idea how glad I am he found that thing!” The moral side wiggled in his seat, unable to contain his happiness.

“I was gonna rewatch Stranger Things,” Virgil replied, adding a fifth Splenda to his coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose in disgust before turning back to Patton.

“I will most likely spend a short while spinning up some trains of thought to use if Thomas gets bored, but… other than that, maybe polish my sword. Take a rest day. Ooh, maybe watch some old cartoons!”

Patton visibly brightened at Roman’s sudden idea. “Oh, my goodness, that sounds so fun! Can I join?”

“Why, of course! There is no one better to nostalgize with.”

Patton beamed before turning to Logan. “What about you, Logan? What did you wanna do today?”

Logan mulled for a moment. “Well, there’s no real schedule to adhere to, considering Thomas is traveling with friends at the moment. I may simply go through the memory record books and make sure everything is in order.”

…or at least, that’s what he wanted to say. When he opened his mouth to reply, foreign words suddenly spilled out before he could help himself.

“I wanna be the very best

Like no one ever was-”

Logan threw his hand over his mouth.

Patton blinked, grin wavering slightly. Virgil choked on his coffee. Roman snorted, glancing up in surprise.

“…Care to repeat that?”

I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what just-

“To catch them is my real test-”

Logan paled. …Oh, no.

It had happened before, on rare occasion; he had been lucky enough to be alone then.

Since Logan was the Side that most closely represented the brain- combined, he supposed, with his fascination with language- if a song ever got stuck in Thomas’ head, it seemed to… manifest… in Logan’s vocal chords. He was powerless to stop it from interfering with his own attempts at conversation.

It appeared that Thomas playing on his old gaming device, combined with Roman and Patton’s surge of nostalgic ideas, had caused Thomas to think of, of all things… the Pokemon theme song.

“To train them is-”

He bit down on his tongue. Hard. Glancing up, he realized Virgil looked slightly horrified, Patton looked a mix of confused and concerned, and realization was slowly dawning on Roman’s face as a devilish grin curled his lips.

“…What’s the matter, Logan? Meowth got your tongue?”

“I will battle every-”

Logan abruptly stood up from the table as Roman threw back his head in laughter. He opened and closed his mouth, realizing each time that his attempts at communication would fail, before turning and storming off to his room. His cheeks burned as Roman’s cackling followed him until he shut his door.

—

It wasn’t that he blamed Thomas. It was just that he was completely powerless until Thomas’ subconscious brain decided that was enough and moved on from its whimsical ploy.

It meant that Logan could be forced into embarrassed silence for a few seconds or a few hours. He suddenly remembered all the times those cringe-worthy radio pop songs had been stuck in Thomas’ head and shuddered involuntarily. Before, the logical side had holed up in his room and forced himself to fixate on anything else until he could open his mouth without Britney Spears or the likes of pouring out. Roman’s sudden light bulb moment involving old cartoons combined with Patton’s surge of happy nostalgia and Thomas’ lack of preoccupation had caught him completely off guard.

What would they think of him? He was Logic. He was supposed to be put-together, poised, and practical- not prone to sudden flights of fancy. Randomly bursting into song was much more Roman’s or Patton’s department; other than the fact that he was the likely the side most connected to the brain, it made very little sense for him to be the one to deal with these inopportune outbursts. Especially when Thomas had been in school, and studying- ugh. Those times had been the worst.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Logan out of his reverie; he glanced at it warily. If it was Roman, realizing what was happening and coming to poke fun at him…

“Hey, Logan. It’s me, Patton. Can I come in?”

Logan opened the door and Patton beamed before slipping into his bedroom. He glanced around, getting his bearings, before turning and fixing Logan with a concerned stare.

“…What was that? Are you okay?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond before stopping himself just in time. He looked down at his hands, then back at Patton, and nodded once before shrugging helplessly. He tried to convey that nothing was wrong, he was just… not perfectly all right.

Patton tilted his head. “…Did you lose your voice?”

Logan shook his head. Patton frowned.

“I want to help you, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, it might make it kinda difficult.”

“I know-”

Shush!

“…So you know? Why won’t you tell me?”

Logan clenched his fists in frustration. “Gotta-” NO-

“Gotta what?”

I’VE “GOTTA” WAIT THIS OUT BECAUSE I AM POWERLESS TO STOP IT-

But what came out was, “Each Pokemon to understand the power that’s inside!”

Patton’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “What is going on here?!”

Logan looked at him desperately, throwing his hands at the ceiling. “I know it’s my destiny-”

Patton looked panicked. “Did you- did something happen to Thomas? Did he hit his head?” The moral side stepped back for a moment, a pensive expression shadowing his features as he connected with Thomas’ feelings. After a moment, a wave of realization washed over his face- and then stark confusion.

“…Wait. So because he’s- that makes you-”

“Gotta catch ‘em all,” Logan sighed in affirmation.

“How long has this been going on?”

Logan glared at Patton, who grinned sheepishly. “Oh. Right. You kinda can’t- your vocabulary’s a little limited right now. Sorry.”

…Wait. An idea popped into Logan’s head at Patton’s words. His vocabulary may have been limited, but that didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t communicate to some degree. After some quick recall of the lyrics, he carefully opened his mouth.

“It’s always been-”

“Huh?”

“It’s always been,” Logan repeated emphatically, gesturing towards Patton. I’m trying to answer your first question, please understand.

“It’s always- oh! You’ve always had this happen?”

Logan nodded.

“Any time Thomas gets a song stuck in his head?”

“‘Em all,” Logan confirmed.

Patton frowned. “…Why wouldn’t it happen to me or Roman, though?”

Logan thought for a moment. “I’ll teach,” he said slowly, gesturing to his glasses and necktie, before starting again. “-my rightful place.”

“Ohhh! Because your ‘place’ is like Thomas’ brain- that makes sense!”

Logan grinned and nodded. Patton was being remarkably perceptive.

“Why haven’t the rest of us noticed?”

Logan gestured to his room. “In a world we must defend.”

“You just hide in here?”

Logan shrugged before nodding in confirmation. It’s either that or sitting silently in the living room.

“How does it go away?”

“Our courage will pull us through.” The logical side shrugged.

“…What?” Patton scrunched up his face in confusion. Logan paused, thinking.

“The time is right,” he added.

“…It goes away when- ‘the time is right-’ so you just have to wait until Thomas stops thinking about it?”

Logan brightened at Patton’s successful deduction, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Well, until then, I’ll just be your translator! I might be a bit of a Slowpoke, but if you Digg-let me, I’ll catch on to what you mean pretty quick.” Patton looked absolutely elated at the new world of nostalgic puns he and Logan had just entered. Logan, hiding an internal groan, smiled at Patton’s helpful offer.

“Arm in arm, we’ll win the fight.”

“Sounds like a plan. Now- I know you didn’t finish your coffee or pancakes, and both of those are just too good to let go to waste… Weedle you say? Wanna head back? I won’t let Roman tease you too much- and I’ll explain to Virgil. You speaking so strangely kind of rattled him.”

“With courage I will face,” he said solemnly. Patton laughed before walking back over to the door.

“Well, come on then!”

“You’re my best friend.” Wait. Logan paused- he hadn’t meant to say that.

Patton just smiled softly at him; the laughter in his eyes was replaced by warmth. “Ditto.”

“Thomas, I get that playing on your old Gameboy is super fun, but can you please stop singing the Pokemon theme song under your breath? It’s getting stuck in my head now, too.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry, Talyn.”

[racingtoaredlight]

RTARL’s NBA Previewpalooza: Part One

One of the most hectic and entertaining NBA offseasons in recent memory is finally drawing to a close, and real-live game action is nearly upon us. After ending last season by swiftly dispatching the Cleveland Cavaliers, the Golden State Warriors have cemented themselves as the most ridiculous Final Boss in the history of team sports. Barring an injury that prevents either Kevin Durant or Steph Curry from playing in the postseason, it’s damn near impossible to imagine anyone preventing them from repeating. In the same way that a movie can still be great even if you guess the ending ahead of time, the ups and downs of each of the thirty teams in the NBA are still a ton of fun to follow, even if the eventual champion is basically a foregone conclusion. For me they are, anyway. 

Today I’ll be previewing the Eastern Conference, with the teams presented in the order I think they’ll finish, worst-to-first. I’ll roll out my Western Conference predictions and my picks for the end-of-season awards as soon as I can. Let’s rock and roll.

15. Chicago Bulls. Mother of God, this roster is an atrocity. Zach LaVine is the best player the Bulls have on their roster by a country mile, and he’s currently recovering from a torn ACL. He’s not even going to be cleared for contact until sometime in November. In the meantime, their best player is...Nikola Mirotic? I guess? Mirotic is a 6′10″ PF who averaged as many three-point attempts per game as rebounds last season, while shooting under 42% from the field. Woof. 

This year is all about landing a high draft pick to add to their young core of LaVine and uh, Denzel Valentine, Kris Dunn and Lauri Markkanen. Damn, GarPax. Nice work. 

14. Brooklyn Nets. Oh, jeez. I’ll say this for the Nets: I really liked the move to ship Brook Lopez out of town for D’Angelo Russell. Lopez served no purpose on a team this bad, and there’s always the chance that the next foot injury he suffers is a career-ender. Getting a young guy with Russell’s pedigree for him is a score. In addition, the Nets are doing that thing where a team acts as a dumping ground for other team’s shitty contracts, while picking up draft picks along the way (they got a 2nd rounder from Toronto for taking DeMarre Carroll, for example). 

Speaking of draft picks, it’s impossible to talk about the Nets without mentioning the truly heinous trade that deprived them of their ‘14, ‘16, 17, and ‘18 first round picks. I still can’t believe that happened. The light at the end of the tunnel for the Nets isn’t going to be all that bright until after next season, when their rebuild can finally begin in earnest. In the meantime, enjoy D’Angelo and Jeremy Lin!

13. Atlanta Hawks. I learned recently that Dennis Schroder is a huge douche and his teammates really don’t like him at all. A team’s best player being an asshole isn’t a big deal when the player is a legit stud. When it’s Dennis Schroder, that’s less than ideal. The Hawks have some decently fun guys to watch in Schroder, Kent Bazemore, Taurean Prince and incoming rookie John Collins (pride of Wake Forest). I don’t really see it translating to a whole lot of wins, though. This feels like a transitional year for them, and I’m not sure if coach Mike Budenholzer is the kind of guy who’d want to stick around for a full rebuilding project. I can’t for the life of me find any information on his contract, so it won’t be surprising if he bails after this season, and the Hawks sink into full tank-mode. 

12. New York Knicks. Well, they got rid of Carmelo. The return wasn’t all that great (that’s putting it kindly), but it’s tough to argue that it was the wrong move. Now, the team can focus on developing Kristaps Porzingis into a superstar, and trying to build around him. The Knicks definitely aren’t going to be a GOOD team, but with Kristaps doing Kristaps things, Michael Beasley doing Michael Beasley things, Willy Hernangomez hustling like a madman, and Tim Hardaway Jr. possibly attempting 10 threes a game, they won’t be a total drag to watch. 

11. Indiana Pacers. I love Myles Turner as much as almost anyone, but he’s not enough to carry a winning team by himself quite yet. Victor Oladipo is a fine running mate, and I think he’ll have his best year to date. With Darren Collison and Cory Joseph both on the roster, the Pacers are assured of having a competent, unspectacular general on the floor at all times. I think the Pacers have enough to keep from completely bottoming out, but this still looks like a lottery team.

10. Philadelphia 76ers. There’s not a team in the league with as wide a range of possible outcomes as the Sixers. There are so many “ifs” here. IF Embiid plays 65+ games, and IF Ben Simmons hits the ground running, and IF Markelle Fultz is ready to play, this team could sneak into one of the final playoff spots in the East. On the other hand, IF Embiid has a health setback and another lost year, and IF Ben Simmons is still too raw to count on, and IF Markelle Fultz’s terrible jumper totally undermines his other qualities, the Sixers could find themselves dangerously close to the Nets and Bulls at the bottom of the conference. I think the Sixers will be one of the most fun teams in the league to watch this year, but they won’t coalesce enough to make a legit run at the playoffs until next season.

9. Charlotte Hornets. Truth be told, there really isn’t much of a difference between the Hornets, Pistons, and Magic. The Hornets losing Nic Batum to injury is a bummer, as this is a team that can ill-afford to lose a playmaker. They brought in Dwight Howard, and if the early reports are to be believed, he’s as healthy as he’s been in awhile, and he’s feeling rejuvenated. It remains to be seen how long the honeymoon period will last for him in Charlotte. The Hornets are well-coached and they have several good defenders. Kemba Walker is a legit star and has shown the ability to drag his team to the playoffs in the past. I also really liked their drafting of Malik Monk. Add it all up, and the Hornets aren’t a top-tier franchise, but they’re far from a smoldering trainwreck. I’m not great with compliments.

8. Detroit Pistons. I might be one of the few people remaining on the Andre Drummond bandwagon. I still think he has it in him to be an absolute force defensively, and I hope he makes a leap this season. Bringing in Avery Bradley gives them some more shooting and further fortifies their defense. By surrounding a rim-wrecking big man with shooters, it’s pretty clear Stan Van Gundy is trying to recapture the glory of his Orlando days. If he can get something useful in return for Reggie Jackson, and if Stanley Johnson progresses enough to be a legit rotation player, the Pistons may very well have a stew going. 

7. Orlando Magic. I really like a lot of the Magic players individually, but they’ve had issues fitting together in recent seasons. I think things will be different this year. Aaron Gordon is primed to take a step forward and become an All-Star, and Elfrid Payton has the skill to be a very good PG, especially defensively. Evan Fournier and Terrance Ross can both score in bunches from beyond the three-point line. The organization seems to dislike Nic Vucevic, but he’s a good player. He’ll either be productive for the Magic, or they’ll finally find a trade they like and bring in someone who fits what they want to do. 6′ 10″ rookie Jonathan Isaac was one of the picks at the draft that made the analysts ooh and ahh, so I guess that’s a good thing. 

6. Toronto Raptors. The Raptors are a pretty good team. They have two All-Star caliber players in Lowry and DeRozan, and Serge Ibaka is a perfectly decent third wheel. With that said, it feels to me like they’ve gone about as far as they can go. Most likely, they’ll chug through the season similar to the way they have the last couple of years, and proceed to bow out early in the playoffs. However, it wouldn’t surprise me if they get off to a slow start and decide to fire Coach Dwane Casey. After that, things could really spiral out of control, and DeRozan or Lowry could end up being traded. 

5. Miami Heat. I love Erik Spoelstra, and this roster is tailor-made for a coach to go buckwild trying to cause matchup problems for the opponent. They have an elite rim-protector in Hassan Whiteside, an upper-echelon point guard in Goran Dragic, and a slew of very good role players. There’s size and athleticism up and down the roster. They can go small, they can go big, they can load up with perimeter shooting, they have Peak Dion Waiters, and they brought in Kelly Damn Olynyk. This team as constituted is a blast. The only thing keeping them from legitimate contention is their lack of a go-to superstar. Pat Riley has proven rather adept at securing the services of players like that, but they don’t have any young guys that are obvious trade pieces, and they’re devoid of draft picks for 2018, so odds of an in-season deal are pretty slim.

4. Washington Wizards. I consider myself to be a reasonably WizWoke guy, but much like the Raptors, this feels like a team that’s reached it’s ceiling. The difference between the Wiz and the Raptors is that while Kyle Lowry and Serge Ibaka have caused locker room issues in the past, John Wall and Brad Beal seem to be more measured and mature guys, their own rocky relationship notwithstanding. I don’t see the potential for their locker room to implode the way I do with Toronto. Barring major injuries, this is a team that should coast to home court in the first round of the playoffs. Wall and Beal are a spectacular backcourt, and Otto Porter has improved every year he’s been in the league. Marcin Gortat is steady, but his style of play is rapidly becoming a liability in today’s NBA. They’re an athletic rim-protector away from taking another step forward, and unfortunately those aren’t all that easy to acquire. Also, Markieff Morris is a total piece of shit.

3. Cleveland Cavaliers. Just to be perfectly clear, I’m not saying the Cavs are the third best team in the East. I’m saying they’ll finish with the third-best regular season record. Isaiah Thomas, Derrick Rose, and Dwyane Wade are going to miss a ton of games. LeBron’s only objective is winning a title, and if he thinks resting during the season will improve his chances, he’s gonna sit some, as well. They aren’t going to care about gunning for a #1 seed, because they know they can beat anyone in the East without it. There will probably be a little bit of a feeling out process at the beginning of the year, but this is a veteran-laden roster and it should go smoothly. There’s a faint whiff of danger here, with Isaiah Thomas’ uncertain health, and the cloud of LeBron possibly bolting after the season hanging over everything. I don’t THINK things will take a nasty turn for them, but if they did it would be delightful from an entertainment perspective. 

2. Milwaukee Bucks. I am ALL IN on the Bucks. The term “position-less basketball” has become en vogue recently, and the Bucks are perfectly suited for it. They are flush with young, athletic, lengthy defenders. Half the battle in today’s NBA is trying to force defenders to switch assignments until you end up with a matchup you can take advantage of. Well, the Bucks have a boatload of guys who can reasonably guard every position on the floor. They’re going to be a nightmare to play against. 

In addition to their defensive capabilities, they have motherfuckin’ Giannis Antetokounmpo. He’s a superhuman. I think this is the year he vaults into superduperstardom, and he’s a legit MVP candidate. The Bucks figure to get Jabari Parker back sometime around the All-Star break, and if he can pick up where he left off, it’ll give them a massive boost offensively. Jabari was averaging over 20 PPG and shooting over 36% from three before he went down.

I think the Bucks will keep the pedal to the metal all season long as they announce their presence as a legit team, and as a result the wins will pile up. They are young and hungry, and will enjoy the hell out of wrecking people. The main thing keeping me from vaulting them all the way to the top spot, and giving them serious consideration to make the Finals, is the fact that they’re coached by Jason Kidd. I have no idea if he’s a good coach or not. He does completely inexplicable things all the time, but then he’ll counteract that by pushing all of the right buttons for a few games in a row. Much like the rest of the Bucks, there’s room for him to take the next step forward and become one of the league’s best. 

1. Boston Celtics. I swear this isn’t me being a homer. The Celtics are loaded and they have a very good coach. It’ll likely take them a bit to figure out how to play together, but once they get the hang of things, they’re gonna be really good. Basically everyone has a Celtics-Cavaliers Eastern Conference Finals set in stone at this point. But, whereas the Cavs have the kind of well-earned confidence that allows them to not give a rat’s ass about the regular season and homecourt advantage, the Celtics aren’t there yet. I think getting homecourt for a potential playoff showdown with the Cavs is really important to them, and as a result they won’t let up during the season. Even if Kyrie Irving does miss games, as he’s wont to do, the roster is deep enough that they should still be able to hang with most teams even without him. When you have a team with this amount of talent trying to win as many games as possible, playing in a weak conference, they’re gonna put up a enough Ws to lock up a #1 seed.

Whew! That’s it for the East, be sure to come back next time for my thoroughly uninformed opinions on the West!

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Shifting perspective

(Horrible title, I know. I suck at naming stuff.) I don’t know what this is. It came to be from my strong wish to have Norwegian swearing in one of my fics (don’t know why. Don’t ask.) Anyway, this is what grew; one OFC called Oline (nicknamed Oli), one pining Sam, and a bunch of asshole shapeshifters. Enjoy.

The translations are in brackets right after the Norwegian, so you don’t have to scroll so much, but most of the translations aren’t literal, partly because of my limited knowledge of the English language, and partly because I tried to make it flow.

For example: Faen is used a lot. It’s a common Norwegian curse word, and it’s quite versatile, kinda like fuck, but the meaning is of religious origin, not sexual. Faen is a shortened version of Fanden, which is another (old) name for the devil (or a demon, depending on where you’re from).

Please let me know what you think, but also keep in mind that English is not my first language.

My tag lists are open, if you want to be included (or if you want to be removed). Just drop me a line.

Word count: 7392 (sorry not sorry)

”Good morning!” Oline came waltzing into the kitchen like she owned the place, wearing a pair of black pyjama pants with cartoon puppies printed along the side, and a light blue t-shirt with a band name no one could determine, because the print was so faded.

Her hair was still wet from the shower, and she hadn’t put any make-up on, but still Sam’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide the fact that his body was more awake than his mind was.

She had been on and off hunting with them for almost four years, and lived in the bunker for one and a half of those, but her looks still took his breath away – even looking all dishevelled and tired. It was as if her skin glowed on its own, and her hair… well, Sam would’ve done pretty much anything to run his fingers through it.  Quickly, so she wouldn’t catch him staring, he cast his eyes down and kept them focused on the bowl of cereal. “Mrn.”

She didn’t notice the slight breathiness to his voice – or if she did, she was polite enough to not comment on it. Sam smiled into his spoon. She was too nice. If Dean had been there, he would never have heard the end of it.

Daring a glance up, he caught her just as she reached for something on the top shelf; exposing a small line of skin along her hip and back. He could just make out the tips of the points on her anti-possession tattoo, and then decided that he didn’t trust himself enough, so he grabbed his notepad and jotted down a few words just to keep busy.

“Ready for the road?” Her voice sliced through the bubble he’d buried himself in.

“Huh?”

She laughed. “Still not awake, huh? I asked if you’re ready for the road.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” He smiled back at her. “Never seen anyone so eager for a shifter job before.”

Oline shrugged. “ They’re not all that common back home. And those that I did come across couldn’t hide their true identity completely. A tail here, patches of green skin there… Or maybe they were just bad at what they did. I don’t know.”

“Tail? Green skin? I don’t think that’s what we call shapeshifters over here?” Sam said, tilting his head and squinting. His earlier embarrassment was forgotten; always eager to learn about new monsters.

“Really? Ooh! Is that coffee?” She snatched his cup and gulped down half of it before he could even blink. “Yeah,” she said, inhaling the word. “Norwegian shapeshifters live underground, or inside the mountains. Most of them have green or blue skin, and at least the females have tails that resembles cows’ tails, but they change to look more human to lure unsuspecting victims to their deaths. They don’t do that here?”

“Wow, no. What we call shapeshifters are humanoid creatures that can take on the appearance and memories of any living person they decide to mimic. Some can even change into animals. We can kill them with silver through the heart. Or even decapitation.”

Oline tilted her head slightly and smiled upside down. “Huh. Interesting. Gotta read up on them before we get there. Everything is so different over here.” Tapping the side of the cup she’d hijacked, she thought for a second. “I’ve been here for what, four years, and still your country is so foreign. You don’t even have proper brown cheese.”

Getting himself a new cup, Sam blew a silent chuckle through his nose. “Technically, you’re the foreign one, you know.”

“You better have coffee in there!” Dean shuffled through the door, looking very much like he just woke up, and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. “Ugh, I’m getting too old for this shit. Who decided we start this early?”

“You did,” both Sam and Oline replied, watching as Dean bumped into the counter with half closed eyes, both grateful that he offered some distraction from the disaster waiting to happen. Some times Sam could’ve sworn Oline looked at him like she wanted to eat him up – now that was an interesting thought, and then the next moment she seemed totally uninterested. To be honest it drove him mad, never knowing which way to interpret her language.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in comfortable silence. Sam continued to scribble on his note pad, Oline stared into the air, dreaming about an alternate reality where she had the guts to tell Sam how she felt with actual words he’d understand, and Dean slowly sipped his coffee, generally regretting his recent life choices.

“Road trip!” Oline suddenly called, getting to her feet and dumping her plate in the sink.

“How can you possibly be this cheerful so early?” Dean asked gruffly after he refilled his cup.

Oline waved her own cup around. “Because coffee,” she replied with a short giggle. “Og fordi han der er spesielt søt når håret stikker ut til alle kanter. [And because that one is incredibly cute when his hair is sticking out like that.]” She said it deliberately not looking at Sam, because her insides squirmed at the thought of him suddenly understanding her.

“Hey, no fair,” Sam protested. “We don’t speak Norwegian.”

She shrugged with a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Dean lukter som en geit, [Dean smells like a goat]” she teased in a sing-song voice, causing Sam to chuckle. “Men Sam lukter som epler og solskinn. [But Sam smells like apples and sunshine.]”

“Be nice!” Dean replied. “I may not understand the words, but I recognise a non-compliment when I hear one. Would you at least wash your dishes?”

Dancing towards the kitchen door, Oline shook her head. “Sorry, Dean. You know I love you.” She stuck her tongue out and leapt through the doorway. “Meet you by the car in an hour.”

Sam laughed to himself. “Dude.”

“What?”

“I think… she, uh…” He could barely get the words out, laughing so hard. “I think she called you a goat or something. I don’t see the lie, though,” he added, flicking some crumbs at his brother.

“Shut up! You’re… a goat.” There was a moment of silence. “Wait… you know Norwegian?”

Sam ducked his head, his ears turning crimson. “No. Just a couple of words. I’ve been trying to teach myself, but it’s is a friggin’ hard language to learn – I wanted to surprise her.”

Dean stared dumbfounded at him for a few seconds before a big grin cracked over his face. “You’re in love! Oh my god! You are!”

Hiding his face in his hands, Sam shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his own grin. “Shh! I’m… I’m not… shut up.” He got to his feet, grabbing his notebook, and left.

“Great. I live with a couple of slobs,” Dean muttered, grabbing the cereal bowl Sam had left on the table. “We gotta get a maid or something.”

“Good news,” Dean said with a shit-eating grin. “They only had one available room.” He dangled a single key in the air, getting scowls in return. Sam sent him a look that stated: “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t like it.”

Oline groaned. “At least tell me there’s three beds.”

Dean shook his head.                    

“A sofa? Or a… a chair?”

“Nope. Looks like we’re gonna have to share.”

She rolled her eyes and poked Dean in the chest, lowering her voice. “Du må ikke tro at jeg ikke har gjennomskuet deg! [Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing!]” And then after a brief pause she added: “Fucker!”

Hoisting her bag over her shoulder, she snatched the key from his hand. “Hey, Sam, your brother is disgusting. Mind if I bunk with you?” It was an opportunity after all. She had to make the best of it.

“Sure,” Sam replied with an easy smile, following her inside with his own bag.

When Dean finally got inside, Oline had claimed the bed closest to the window, and she’d already spread her books and papers all over it, and sat cross-legged on the pillows with a pen in her mouth, scrolling down her laptop. Sam had taken his spot on the floor, with his back against the bed, also scrolling on his laptop, but more aware, alert. Like a watchdog. He looked up briefly as Dean closed the door, but seeing no threat, he ignored his brother as best he could.

How these two didn’t realise they belonged together was beyond Dean. He shook his head with a tiny scoff and dumped his duffel onto the other bed. “Got anything yet?”

“Nah. I’m thinking we gotta go government on this. There’s at least one witness who’s sane enough to interview.” Suddenly, Oline dropped her laptop, sending papers rustling to the floor. “Faen! [Shit!]” She breathed the word with her eyes scrunched shut and punched the mattress.

“What is it?” Sam asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Um…” She looked at the Winchesters with utter despair in her eyes. “I forgot my duvet.”

“What?” Dean burst out laughing. “Damn, I thought you’d found something

She grabbed a fistful of the fabric covering the bed. “Your stupid, American motels only have blankets. I’m gonna die of hypothermia.”

She looked so heartbroken even Sam had to laugh. “Relax. It’s like 68 degrees outside.”

“Yeah, but my feet still get cold in the night. And my duvet is so soft,” she pouted, fiddling with her knitted socks.

“Don’t worry,” Dean said once he had dried his eyes. “Sam’s a virtual fire place. He’s gonna keep you warm. Aren’t you, Sammy?”

His brother’s eyes said “Don’t!” but he nodded to Oline. “I’m always hot. And I don’t mind you poking your cold toes on me.” He thought for a second, the stretched and flexed ever so slightly. “Can’t help you with the softness, though.”

“Dude! You’re gross!”

Oline tossed a pillow on Dean. “Hey, he’s no grosser than you. Thank you, Sam.” She smiled and hopped down from the bed. “I’m gonna change into my FBI gear.”

“Smooth,” Dean nodded appreciatively once the bathroom door closed.

“You set this up, didn’t you?” Sam growled through gritted teeth.

“Maybe…”

“Just… just stay out of this, okay? I really don’t want to screw up our friendship.”

“Well, maybe that’s just what you need to do,” Dean grinned and ducked just in time to avoid a second, zooming pillow.

It took two days of investigating and interviewing more or less willing people to figure out where the shapeshifters were hiding. There were four of them, and as far as Oline could see, the shifters were young and inexperienced, filled with new ideas and not too bright on how to pull it off. But still: shifters were dangerous no matter what, and the three of them went through the safety check behind the Impala.

“Silver knife?”

“Check.” Both Sam and Oline held up theirs.

“Shifter gankin’ bullets?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Wait, wait. What’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Dean resembled a big question mark.

“Yeah, dumbass. The plan. There’s four of them and three of us. We can’t just barge in like we normally do.” Oline winked at him, making Sam snort and turn away so Dean wouldn’t see him laugh.

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You want a plan, børk børk?”

“Yeah. And the chef is Swedish, by the way.”

“Oh, Sor-ry! I didn’t mean to step on your toes. Not my fault that it’s practically impossible to see the difference.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Winchester. Else I’d have to kick your butt.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s how it is. And you know I could do it. Sure, you’re a bit stronger than me, but I’m almost as tall as you –“

“Yeah, and those years spent trudging through the snow,” Sam added with a wink, “means her endurance is high.”

Oline blushed. “Thanks, Sam. But I’m not too fond of the snow. I can’t ski to save my life. But I climbed a lot of trees when I was younger. And I’m faster than you.”

“Not likely,” Dean growled, crouching down to pounce on her.

She squealed and ran to hide behind Sam. “Save me!”

With her hands on Sam’s hips, he almost forgot how to breathe. “Alright you two. You can fight it out later. We’ve got a case here. Remember?”

“Sorry, boss,” Oline said in mock regret, turning to Dean. “Truce?”

“Truce. Let’s do this. And quietly.”

The moment they were inside, they split up. Dean took to the right, through the kitchen. Sam went left, heading for the living room, while Oline took the stairs, slowly sneaking along the wall.

She peered around the corner and spotted a shifter. He clearly hadn’t understood the danger yet, so she tip-toed up behind him, ready to stab him, but just as she raised her knife, he turned. Faster than she expected, he leapt to his feet and rushed past her, knocking her over in the process.

Another shifter appeared above her, and she kicked out, hitting him in the ankles. He landed crookedly on a chair, and it broke with a loud crash. It wasn’t enough to take out the shifter, of course, and a couple of seconds later he got to his feet and charged. But that was all it took for Oline to get ready, and with a massive exertion and a loud groan, the knife pierced through the ribs and into the creature’s heart.

The shifter fell heavily to the ground and Oline listened to the air rasp through the punctured lung to make sure she got him properly.

Sam managed to sneak up on the shapeshifter without being discovered, and swiftly and soundlessly drove his silver knife into the creature’s chest. Unfortunately the ruckus made by the dying shifter attracted another one, who hit Sam over the head, then ran away. He staggered back and forth, seeing double from the impact, but as soon as his vision normalised, Sam ran after him, raising his gun in defence.

The sound of Dean’s gun rang through the house, and Oline mentally counted the kills. Dean had one, she had one, and Sam probably had one going by the sound of it. One left, then, and this one had escaped downstairs, unless there was a secret doorway somewhere.

At the bottom of the stairs, she bumped into Dean. “One left,” they said simultaneously.

“Yeah,” Oline panted. “He got past me and ran downstairs before I could get him.”

“I’ll go,” Dean began, but she stopped him.

“No, I got this. He owes me the satisfaction of dying. Besides, Sam’s still there. Two of us: one of him. Piece of cake. Go get the shovels. “

“Anything to get some alone time with my brother, huh?” Dean replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Dean! Don’t make me slap you. I’m more than capable of kicking your ass. I wasn’t kidding earlier.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down. Go help Sam or whatever. I’ll be back in a few.”

When Sam skidded through the doorway he came face to face with Oline, and lowered his gun. “We got them all?”

She grinned widely and took a few steps towards him, but just then he heard her yell “Duck!” somewhere behind him, before something shiny zoomed past him, lodging itself in Oline’s chest. She collapsed on the floor, lifeless and cold, and Sam cried out, dropping to his knees. He was interrupted by Oline’s arms around his shoulders.

“I’m me,” she said calmly. When he didn’t answer right away, she moved around him, pointed to the blood soaked pile of human remains on the floor and said “Shapeshifter!” then at herself and grinned: “Oli.”

His eyes narrowed, and he remained still.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said, reaching out to him again. When he recoiled, she wanted to scream. To see him unsure and almost afraid of her hurt more than anything else she’d experienced since she came to the US, but she swallowed the grief, telling herself she would probably react the same way.

“It really is me. I promise.” She pulled the knife from the body on the floor, wiped it on her jeans, and ran the edge over her arm. The blood was dark red against her pale skin. “See? It’s me.”

Sam took a few moments to react, so Oline decided to try another approach. “Remember when we got drunk in Seattle and I kissed your eyelid better after you got in a fight with that douche. Over… over… what was it?”

“He insulted your accent,” Sam replied with a smile, neglecting to mention that a shapeshifter would’ve had access to her memories; he was satisfied that she was the Oline he knew. To be honest he just wanted to hold her close. “We laughed so much on the way back from the bar…” He could still feel her lips on his skin, and the memory woke the slumbering butterflies in his stomach.

“Heh, yeah. We must have looked like lunatics.” She thought back to that intensely intimate moment, and felt her ears burn. She’d managed to blame it on the alcohol, but she knew that was just an excuse.

Taking her outstretched hand, Sam pulled himself from the floor.  “Come on. Let’s go help Dean.”

“He’s gone to get the shovels,” Oline grinned. “We’re done here.”

He marvelled how quickly she could change; from gentle and caring one moment to bubbly and cheerful the next. And now he had that eyelid kiss stuck in the front of his brain. He wondered if it was possible to love someone more than he did Oline. He doubted it, but still he said nothing.

She let go of Sam’s hand the moment they were outside. More than anything she wanted to keep him close, but with the recently surfaced memory from Seattle, she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t say or do something stupid. There was no way Sam felt the same way, and she didn’t want to risk heartbreak.

When she let go of his hand, Sam breathed out slowly, both in relief and disappointment. The electricity and heat spreading from her hand made him dizzy, but it felt good. And the lack of contact made him feel cold, but it made it easier not to do or say anything stupid.

They buried the bodies in shallow graves in the field behind the house, salting them for good measure. It was starting to get dark when Dean dropped the last shovel of dirt onto the very last grave, patting it a couple of extra times before kicking a layer of grass and sticks and leaves over it.

“Whooo!” Oline yelled and pumped her fist in the air, making Dean jump in surprise. “Who’s awesome? Oh yes, we are!”

Sam couldn’t help but smile too: her enthusiasm and joy was contagious.

“Damn straight we are,” Dean replied, and they high-fived, causing Sam to groan loudly.

“Really, how old are you?”

“Aw, Sam, you jealous?” she pouted, offering her hand up. “Come on then, don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been told it’s rude.”

“Fine.” He slapped her hand, and she laughed, mostly to drown the squeal that built in her throat every time they touched.

Her laughter rippled through Sam’s body like waves of pure sunlight, and he suspected he could probably live on that feeling alone for the rest of his days. To mask his urge to pull her into a bone-crushing hug, he grumbled a little extra, muttering about acting like teenagers, before throwing the shovel over his shoulder and setting course for the Impala.

“Hey, gimme a break. I never had an American childhood. This is all still pretty new and shiny to me. We typically never touch each other back home. Let me have my moments of physical contact?” She wiped sweat and dirt from her face before following Sam. “We are the champions,” she sang, high-fiving Dean again on her way past him. “Gotta celebrate this. What do you say, huh? The three of us and a pile of beer bottles?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean grinned. “Remind me why I haven’t married you yet?”

She faked a gag. “Um, because that would be gross and considered wildly inappropriate, Winchester. You’re not my type.”

Dean laughed loudly. “Oh yeah, there’s that.”

Her eyes flicked over to Sam, and the short gesture wasn’t lost on Dean, but he said nothing this time: he’d tried to push her before, and that nearly ended with a black eye, so he kept to light teasing and inside jokes now and then.

Sam, however, was completely oblivious to the look he’d just received – lost in his own thoughts.

“You in, Sammy?” Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Beer, burgers, babes… Celebrate our success. Come on, bro. Have a little fun. Even you can’t be boring all the time.”

“Yeah, I’m up for a few beers,” Sam said eventually. “But I’d like to wash off this gunk, though.” He wiped the blood from his hands on his jeans.

“Oh yeah,” Oline nodded enthusiastically. “Shower. Definitely.”

The bathroom door opened, and Sam emerged like he was in a cheesy rom-com. Steam billowed around him, and he wore nothing but a pair of jeans.

Oline stopped mid-scrolling. Her brain lost all function, she lost the ability to speak; she just stared with her hand hovering over the mouse pad on her laptop.

When her brain regained consciousness, she quickly averted her eyes and swore silently. “Faen. Skulle tro du gjorde det med vilje. Hvis du fortsetter sånn, kommer jeg til å selvantenne – eller drukne! [Fuck. I could almost think you’re doing it on purpose. If you continue like that I’ll spontaneously combust – or drown!]”

“What was that? He looked up, still with the towel in his hand.

“Uh… nothing,” she lied quickly, rubbing the embarrassment from the back of her neck. “Hope you left some hot water for me.”

They found a table close to the exit and plopped down on the chairs, ignoring their slight stickiness. And after the first sip of beer, Oline sighed happily. “Nothing like a good beer after a hunt,” she smiled, gazing around the crowded room to hide her frequent looks in Sam’s direction.

“Never met anyone who enjoys her beer more than you,” Dean grinned, clinking his bottle against hers.

“Well, how can I not? I mean, beer is so cheap here. It’s like… $4 for a bottle? It’s crazy! Back home you’re lucky if you find one under $10.”

“I’m drinking to that.” Lifting his bottle, Dean toasted the air. “Hey, you never said why you left. Don’t you ever miss home?”

She nodded and smiled sadly into her glass. “I do. But I can never go back. I’ll tell you sometime. Another time. Let’s talk about something else?”

“Sorry.” Dean fell silent, and they all sat just listening to the music and sipping their drinks for a while.

But after a few minutes, Sam put his hand on Oline’s knee. “Hey, you okay?” He’d caught her sighing deeply. She nodded, blinking rapidly a couple of times, and he could have sworn he saw tears glittering in her eyes, but they disappeared so fast he wasn’t completely sure.

Her answer came as a whisper, and it hit him in the gut. “Yeah. I just miss my family. It hurts that I’ll never see them again.”

“I’m here if you want to talk,” he replied, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her knee. “When you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Sam. It means a lot.”

Dean looked up, studying Oline’s face, but said nothing.

After a long silence, she dragged her hand across her face and leaned back in her seat. “I first decided to leave when it became clear to me that I couldn’t stay without killing them – my parents, I mean,” she began. Hesitantly, fearing shock and judgement in the brothers’ faces.

Dean frowned slightly, but kept quiet: she could see the dozens of questions bubbling on his tongue, and how he swallowed them down. Sam’s gaze softened, and he squeezed her knee gently, giving her courage and strength to continue.

When they didn’t show any signs of wanting to run away, she grimaced what could have been an uncertain smile, and spoke again: “…six years ago I think it was, when my parents were bitten and changed. And they embraced their new lives with delight. Soon the small hunting community we were a part of demanded I’d take care of them. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it: even knowing the chaos and destruction they brought. I just couldn’t. My guess is they’re dead now anyway. I don’t know.”

She sighed and breathed out a short laugh. “Pathetic, I know. Running away from my responsibilities like that, but I… so I left. Got away. Travelled for a bit. Eventually I got on a plane and landed in Boston. Did a bit of sightseeing, but the hunter’s life never lets you go, yeah? Hunting new monsters over here became sort of a healing process, I guess. Then I ran into you guys. Best coincidence in my life.”

The three of them fell silent, before Oline spoke up again. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to deflate the balloon like that. Let’s talk about something else. Like that woman over there,” she said after looking around the room searching for a topic. “She’s been ogling you since we got here, Dean.”

Picking up on her intentions right away, Dean sat up straighter. “Who?”

“The one over there with the bouncy, red curls. Don’t look now. I’ll let you know when…”

And so the next few hours flew by in a fog of discussing old and new conquests, women – and a few men, alcohol, music, and even more alcohol. Eventually Dean decided to go say hello to the redhead, bringing her over to the table, and making Oline and Sam uncomfortable.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” Oline declared after a few minutes of being forced to watch Dean’s moves, standing up faster than she ought to, knocking over her chair. “You want anything, handsome?”

“No thanks,” Dean replied, quickly ducking from her hand swatting the back of his head.

She swayed slightly. “How ‘bout you, Sam? Another?”

He measured what was left in his glass and shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” Oline replied defiantly and made her way over to the bar.

Sam followed her with his eyes, memorising how she moved; still elegant, even now when she was drunk and had to use other people as support to not wobble too much.

“Dude!” Dean said, punching his brother in the arm.

“Ow! What?” Rubbing the forming bruise, Sam scowled back.

“That girl’s got it bad for you,” the redhead said, earning a nod and affirmative grunt from Dean.

“Shut up!” Sam looked back at Oline, who was talking to a guy at the bar. She was laughing and leaning close to him, and he recognised the look in the guy’s eyes: stars and dark lust – he’d hit jackpot.

Once again Sam failed to notice the longing look Oline gave him before she turned around and unleashed her smile on the gentleman next to her. But he did see the effect she had on the stranger. Within a minute of talking to him, he was completely under her spell. And it made Sam feel nauseous.

“I’m… gonna head back to the motel,” he muttered. “Don’t feel too good.”

Looking up from the woman sitting in his lap, Dean raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Need me to come with you?”

Sam shook his head and downed the rest of his drink. “Nah. I’ll be fine. You have fun now.” He nodded once to the woman and left the bar.

When Oline turned back to look at Sam again, she was devastated to find him gone. Devastated, but not surprised. He was bound to find a lady to spend the night with – half the bar practically threw themselves at his feet when they entered, but it hurt nonetheless. She so wanted to be the one he took home.

It wasn’t until Dean slammed the bathroom door and shook his wet hair over him that Sam woke up. Flopping sleepily, he rolled over on the side and pulled the blanket over his face. Silence reigned for a few seconds before he warily emerged from his cocoon. “Ugh. What time is it?”

“Good morning, little brother.” Dean was positively beaming. “It’s…” He checked this watch. “6.15 – and I just got back! Oh man! You missed out last night. Daisy, you remember Daisy? She had a friend, and since you weren’t there, I was feeling generous…”

And with that he launched into a monologue so filled with confidence and smugness that Sam couldn’t wait for Oline to finish in the shower so he could get away. He only hoped she left some hot… water… There was no water running and the door was cracked open.

“Hey, Dean?”

“…and let me tell you: she wasn’t shy. Oh no –“

“Dean. Did Oli –“

“Neither of them were, if you know what I mean –“

“Dean! Will you shut up for a goddamned minute?” Sam almost yelled, causing Dean to smack his mouth shut with a betrayed look on his face. “Thank you. Did Oli leave to get breakfast?” Best to play it casual.

“Don’t think so,” Dean replied with a slight shrug. “Looks to me like she didn’t come back here last night. Her stuff is untouched.”

Sam sniffed her pillow, concealed as a yawn. It still smelled like the motel’s detergent. She definitely hadn’t slept there, but he patted it just to make sure. It was cold. “You’re right,” he muttered.

“Good for her. She needed a good lay. Not surprised she took off when she faced a night in bed with you.”

“Screw you!” Sam grabbed his phone. No messages. Good morning. Will you be long? Dean’s going to get breakfast. What’cha want? We’re rolling in a couple hours. He sent it more to calm the growing unease in his stomach, then got out of bed and into the shower, letting the running water massage his sore muscles.

The first thing he did when he got out was to check for a reply. Nothing. Hey, sleepyhead. Time to head north again. Still nothing. Oli? You OK?

“Dean, I don’t feel too good about this. Oli’s not answering my texts.”

“So she’s busy. I wouldn’t answer your clingy ass if I was in the middle of a good time either.” When Dean put a hand on his shoulder, Sam looked up: seeking some sort of comfort in his brother’s face. He got none. Instead, Dean asked: “I’m getting us something to eat. Want coffee?”

“Please. And a bagel.” Sam didn’t really feel hungry, but he needed some time to think.

Dean nodded. “And don’t worry about Oli. She’ll be fine.”

“Mhm.” Sam automatically glanced down on his phone, then flung it on the bed, picking up his laptop instead. Didn’t take long before he reached for his phone again. Still nothing. Sam sighed.

“Listen, if this bothers you so much, why don’t you talk to her? Tell her –“

“Yeah, alright, Dean. Thank you. Get out of here.” He had a point. But Sam just didn’t know how to begin. And the what ifs were piling high in his brain. This was not how he imagined it though. Sure, he’d been annoyed as hell when Dean conned them into sharing a bed, but it was an opportunity he just had to take. But now he realised he was too late. What if she had found someone? What if she decided to leave the life? He couldn’t blame her. Once he would’ve abandoned everything for a shot at a normal, boring life too.

When Dean came back thirty minutes later, Sam had worked himself so up he was convinced that Oline had already eloped to get married to some random dude. And it didn’t help that Dean thought it was hilarious.

“She’ll waltz in here in an hour, glowing and smiling shyly, and then we’ll carry on like usual.”

The hour came and went. Sam became more and more nervous. Even Dean was becoming a little antsy. “Maybe she just needs some alone time,” Dean said. “Remember when we first met her? I was convinced she didn’t like me, ‘cause she was so hard to get to know. Besides, Oline’s basically a Viking. She can take care of herself.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a grimace. “But I still think it’s weird she hasn’t replied to my texts.”

Ping. Sam’s phone chimed happily, but he snatched it with force, staring at the message on the screen.

Dean grinned. “See? She probably just woke up a bit late.”

“No text,” Sam replied silently. “Only this.” He held out his phone. The message was just a link to a video. Nothing more.

Dean cocked his head. “Huh. What –“

Sam groaned. “What if she… what if she says she wants out? That she doesn’t want … I mean, she’s been gone since last night.”

“Come on,” Dean said with a reassuring smile. “Oli would never do that. She’s probably just, I don’t know, lost track of time or something. It happens,” he added with a grin.

Not the answer Sam wanted, and he glared at his brother. “Not helping.”

“Just doing my duty. Let’s see what she has to say before you panic, okay?” He grabbed the phone and opened the link.

The video was dark at first. They could barely make out a dark figure in the middle of the shot, but nothing else. Occasionally shadows flitted across the screen and they heard soft feet pitter-pattering over concrete floor. Somewhere out of the shot they heard running water.

“What the hell?” Dean began, but Sam interrupted him.

“Shhh! Something’s happening.” His stomach felt like he’d swallowed a rock.

Suddenly the light was switched on, and Sam felt like throwing up. If Dean hadn’t been holding the phone too he would’ve dropped it: the dark figure was Y/N. Slumped over in a chair, she looked bruised and beaten, and her jeans were stained dark red.

“Wakey wakey,” a coarse voice said from behind the camera.

Oline groaned and stirred, slowly lifting her head, to reveal a swollen, bloody face, and a split lip.

“Oli,” Sam breathed, gripping the blanked he was sitting on tightly. Dean growled in agreement.

It took a few minutes before she regained full consciousness, blinking and swallowing; wincing when her skin stretched and moved. Then, as if the floodgates had opened, she started yelling. Her voice was raw and somewhat diminished, but her meaning was clear enough. “I helvete?! Hva faen er det dere driver med? Kom her din jævla feige kukskalle, så skal jeg faen steike meg sparke deg så hardt i ballene at du kjenner smaken av dem i halsen! Din forbannade forpulte pikk! Slipp meg løs for faen! Jeg skal faen meg gi deg deng, din helsikes forbannade demonjævel! [What the hell? What the fuck are you doing? Come here you fucking cowardly dickhead; I’ll fucking kick you so hard in the nuts you’ll taste them in your throat. You damned, fucking cock! Let me fucking go! I’ll fucking kick your ass, you goddamn fucking demon bastard!]”

She continued to yell, both while exhaling and inhaling, making Sam’s mouth twitch. At least she still had her wits. But the fuckers were gonna pay for what they’d done. He looked over at Dean who just stared at the screen. Sonofabitch!

“Wow. Didn’t expect such language from a lady.”

Both men whipped around, drawing their guns in fluid motions, but when they realised the intruder was a minor threat, they relaxed somewhat.

“What are you doing here, Crowley?” Sam asked, slouching back on the bed.

“I’ve missed you too,” Crowley replied with an air kiss. “Can’t a King check on his favourite nightmare subjects?”

Sam scoffed. “We’re not your… argh! Forget it!” He grabbed his phone and leaned on the headboard, flicking the phone back and forth between his hands.

“I’m not too proud to admit it: Hell bores me. So I came up to see if you had something exciting going on. What’s up with Samantha? I haven’t had a welcome this icy since I came for Prince Albert. Victoria could be quite stern when she wanted to. Makes me feel all sorts of nostalgic.”

Dean clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oli’s been kidnapped.”

“Ah,” Crowley nodded, “that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Sam’s dread – seriously, the stench fills the whole room – and Oline’s colourful phrasing. She got quite the razor tongue when she’s pissed.”

“Wait, you understand this?” Sam gestured with the phone.

“I’m the king of Hell, you moron. It’s in my job description. Wouldn’t be much of a King if all it took was a foreign language to keep secrets from me. Now what did I miss?” He held out his hand and Sam handed him the phone.

With the video playing in the background, Crowley started translating. “Well, they certainly aren’t my demons. In fact I rather think they’re something else entirely.” He tossed the phone on the bed, where it bounced a couple of times before settling. “I think I’ve seen enough. Shall we?”

“Shall we, what?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Go rescue the damsel in distress, of course. Get her safely home so Sam can go back to pining after her. Really! How thick are you?”

Squinting, Sam got to his feet. “You’re just gonna help us like that? Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“I’m nice like that,” Crowley smirked. “All I want in return –“ He paused dramatically to think, “– is your undying gratitude and a couple of favours to cash in when –“ Sam looked like he was ready to launch himself at the demon. “Alright, I’ll help you for a bottle of whisky; the good stuff, not that gut-rot you usually poison yourself with.”

“Done,” Sam said quickly.

“…and you have to address me as Your Majesty until we get her.”

“Eat shit, Crowley!” Dean spat, looking like someone had suggested painting his beloved Impala neon pink. “You… that’s… you...”

“Appappapp! What are you forgetting?”

Sam looked at Dean, and they both pursed their lips. “It’s a deal,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.”

“It’s a deal…?”

“Ugh, for the love of… It’s a deal, Your Majesty,” Sam added, apparently struggling to speak without self-combusting.

Crowley clapped enthusiastically before catching himself and reverting back to his dignified, solemn self. “Oh, I gotta get this on tape,” he giggled. “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

“So… your… Your Majesty, gonna tell us what we’re dealing with? Ugh! Do I really have to call you … that?”

“I fully intend to enjoy this as long as I can, yes,” Crowley replied with a nod. ���It’s not every day you two morons show me the respect I deserve.”

“Oh, come on!”

“As for who has Oline,” he continued, ignoring Dean’s outburst, “look.” He paused the video and pointed to two tiny, but very distinct flares on the screen.

“Shifters,” Dean muttered.

“But we got everyone,” Sam began.

“Then you did a poor job, because there’s most definitely some left. And they look pissed. I would be too,” Crowley added with a shrug, “if some half-wit hunter burst through my front door and killed most of my family.”

Dean drove like a maniac, more so than usual. Normally Sam would’ve told him to calm down, but now he sat in silence, with a murderous look on his face. In the backseat sat Crowley, starting to feel a bit green around the eyes. He seriously debated whether or not he should just teleport to the hideout, but then he’d miss the opportunity to bother the boys, so he bit his teeth together and focused on the road ahead.

“Well, that was tense,” he said after the Impala screeched to a halt outside the large building. He stretched his legs and gulped down the cool evening air. “This is where you screwed up last night?”

Sam’s lips were straight and his eyes almost shot lightning bolts. “Shut it, Crowl – Your Majesty. Let’s just find these bitches. My patience is wearing thin.”

It didn’t take long to take care of the last two shifters. Although pissed and strong, they were no match for Crowley, who seemed to find it relaxing and therapeutic to kill. By the time the second one hit the floor, he was grinning from ear to ear. “Ah,” he sighed. “There’s nothing like a little bloodshed in the evening. Pity there weren’t more of them.”

Oline didn’t even look up when he started to untie her; just flexed her jaw and furrowed her eyebrows. “Få de jævla hendene dine vekk fra meg! Jeg sverger: når jeg kommer meg løs hefra så er du en død mann! [Get those fucking hands off of me! I swear: when I get out of this, you’re a dead man!]”

Crowley chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re not gonna kill anyone, darling. There’s no one left TO kill. But I’m sure there’s other ways for you to use all that pent up rage and energy.”

“Crowley? Du er ikke virkelig. Bare en drøm. Faen… [You’re not real. Just a dream. Fuck…]”

“Some people have been known to call me a dream, yes, and I do travel with a pair of plaid nightmares –“

Sam pushed past Crowley and sank to his knees in front of the chair. “Oli, sweetie, look at me. Can you do that for me, please?” He lifted her chin up with his fingers, and smiled softly when her eyes slowly opened.

“Sam? Is it really you? It’s not just an illusion?”

He sighed, sniffing the tear that slid down the edge of his nose. “No, sweetie, it’s really me. And Dean is here too. Even Crowley.”

“I knew you’d come for me. Just hoped it would be before it was too late.”

“Of course we came for you. It’s not the same without you.” He swallowed. He had to lighten the weight on his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do if you – I’m crazy about you.”

Dean coughed and grabbed Crowley’s sleeve. “Let’s give them a few minutes. Help me bury the bodies.” Crowley raised his eyebrows, making Dean sigh loudly. “Alright. Help me bury the bodies, Your Majesty. But this is the last one, I swear!”

“I’m gonna miss it,” Crowley sniggered, but he followed Dean outside.

Oline looked from the door to Sam.

“I know,” he replied to her silent question. “It’s a long story, but a small price to pay, really.” He took her hands in his, rubbing the cold from them. “I’m sorry, Oli. I really am.”

“For what?” Her voice cracked as she let out a short, nervous breath.

“That it took something like this to make me say something. I mean… with the life we lead, you’d think we’d understand how fragile that balance can be. But I’d like to… I mean… Can we try to…”

“Yes! I’m… I’m crazy about you too. Just didn’t know how to…” She reached up and put her arms around Sam’s neck, and he swooped her up, giggling like a teenager.

Carefully Oline pressed her lips against his, but withdrew quickly with a hiss. “Ow! Stupid monsters ruining my dream even when they’re dead.”

“Your dream, huh? Well, luckily this isn’t a dream you have to wake up from. There’s plenty of time to live it.” He searched her face for an unharmed spot, and kissed it tenderly.

“Aww… Aren’t you cute?” Crowley cooed from the doorway.

Oline leaned on Sam’s chest, and he rested his head on her shoulder. “Should think so yeah,” she grinned. “I’m adorable and he’s only the most handsome man in the world.”

Dean stuck his head around the corner and grimaced. “Ew, come on, Crowley. Oli clearly got hit on the head or something.”

Tagging these magnificent people:

@aiaranradnay @awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @iamreadinginsecret

[jlskpopfanfictions]

Friends With Benefits - Bobby (IKON) [Angst/Fluff]

(For hyunseung-ruined-my-life and Anon! Thank you for the request idea Anon! :) ~JLS)

You wake up, the left side of the bed where Bobby laid down after your... activity, cold and made up. 

“Of course he’s already left,” you say aloud, huffing rather loudly after and sitting up in bed. 

You look around to see that the lamp you knocked over last night was sitting upright again, your dress, folded neatly along with your panties and bra, is sitting on your vanity chair. Bobby’s clothes are gone, like they had never been thrown around your room in the first place, the only thing tying him to your tiny apartment being the scent of his cologne on the pillow next to you. You gather that pillow up in your arms and hug it to your body. You bury your face into the soft feathery mass in your arms and take in a deep breath. All the air in your lungs wooshes out as you begin to sob. 

~~~

Seeing as you live quite far from the YG building, Bobby has to walk to the nearest bus station. Sure he could take a taxi and cut the travel, but he needs the cool air. Deciding that the hour and a half long walk would do him good, he left your apartment early. As he was walking out a sight caught his eye. You, fast asleep. Your purple blankets pulled all the way up to your chin and hiding your naked, hickey covered body from him. Bobby smirks at the thought of the bruises covering your skin. The smirk slowly washes away as he realizes how much concealer you’ll have to use to cover up the bright red and purple marks. Suddenly, his heart clenches. No one knows the two of you are doing what your doing. To everyone else, your single. To him, you’re single. With that thought on his mind, Bobby left your apartment just as your eyes were fluttering open.

Bobby felt bad leaving you like that, but he had practice at 10 am and you were sleeping like the dead. 

“She’s probably still fast asleep, curled up like she was when I left her room a few minutes ago. Wait, why do I care?” he thinks, shaking his head as if clearing cobwebs, “It’s not like ________ is my girlfriend.”

“That doesn’t mean shit! Just because she isn’t your girlfriend doesn’t mean you should treat her like some whore!” the moral side of his brain argues, “She’s your best friend you act like she’s just some human flesh light. Get over yourself asshole!”

“That’s not true!” his logical side argues back, “I treat her like my friend! We hangout after practice, we go out on friend dates, we hold each other when we’re sad!”

“And who’s holding her when she’s crying because of you, huh?” his moral side throws back.

Bobby continues tossing the argument back and forth between what his morals are and what his logic thinks. He’s so lost in his mind that he doesn’t realize he’s getting a call.

~~~

You stand in your bedroom, a clean pair of jeans hanging open and low on your hips, and a black bra covering your breasts from the world. You have a concealer sponge in your dominant hand and are dabbing concealer on the red and purple bruises left by Bobby in the height of your shared pleasure. Your other hand is preoccupied with holding your phone to your ear, the high ringing of the call dialing ringing in your ear. 

“Come on, Bobby,” you whisper, applying concealer to the acne spots on your face.

“I’m sorry your-” the automated voice signalling your call reached Bobby’s voicemail begins.

You hang up and toss your phone on your bed from across the room. You huff a heavy sigh and turn to finish your make up. 

~~~

After putting your make up on and your work outfit, you headed out for a long 8 hour shift at work. While you were occupied at work, Bobby was sitting in a corner of one of YG’s many practice rooms, listening to his members talk. It would have been fine if their conversation wasn’t centered around you.

“She’s gorgeous!” B.I. comments, “I love her take-no-bullshit attitude! That’s a real woman.”

Junhoe nods. “I doesn’t help that she balances it out with a sweet side. I swear, the girl could see a baby, squeal and dote over it in baby voice, then turn around and berate someone who grabbed her ass. She’s so damn perfect,” he says, looking back down to the phone in his hand.

Rage and jealousy bubble up in Bobby’s chest and he clears his throat, hiding a growl. Why is he getting so upset? You’re. Not. His! So, the two of you fuck sometimes, that doesn’t mean he wants to be with you forever. So, why does his heart feel like it’s about to explode when he thinks about NOT being with you for the rest of his life? 

Bobby stares at the floor in front of him, realization hitting him like a train. Donghyuk, noticing his hyung’s unusually quiet demeanor taps Jinhwan on the shoulder and whispers, “What’s wrong with hyung?”

Jinhwan shrugs and looks at the second youngest. “He is unusually quiet. I wonder if something happened between him and ________. He hasn’t talked about her lately, usually she’s all he talks about. They’ve been friends for years,” Jinhwan says, staring worriedly over at his dongsaeng. Jinhwan makes to stand and go over to talk to Bobby when the door to the practice room opens.

You walk in, a bright smile on your face and a Starbucks drink in your hand. You are in your work outfit and your hair is pulled up into a bun, strands falling out of it and framing your face.

“Well you assholes are sure doing a bunch of work,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink.

“Noona!” Chanwoo and Donghyuk call, standing from their places on the floor and running over to you.

The maknaes, ever touchy, wrap their arms around you. 

“Hi babies,” you coo, pinching their cheeks.

Both boys giggle and blush. You look over at Donghyuk and grab his shoulder.

“You’re getting to skinny!” you exclaim, your voice taking a mothering tone, “You’re coming over for dinner tonight and eating everything I put in front of you young man! I won’t have one of my babies withering away to nothing. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you,” you comment, causing the two maknaes to swell with pride.

“Noona~!” Donghyuk whines, “I’m trying to lose weight.”

“What weight? If you wanna lose some you can help me lose some of mine,” you say, poking at your stomach.

“Noona! You don’t have any weight either!” Chanwoo says, laying his head on your shoulder. 

“Thanks Channie,” you say, playing with his hair.

You turn your attention from the two attention needy maknaes to look at the other men doting the room. B.I. and Junhoe occupy a couch at the far end of the room across from you, Jinhwan is sitting on the floor in front of the couch, Yunhyeong’s head resting in his lap as he lays across the floor, and Bobby is sitting in the furthest corner away from his members.

“Odd,” you think, “I wonder if he’s okay.”

“How are my favorite idols?” You ask, staring at them yet still playing with the maknaes’ hair.

“Good. How’s our favorite Ikonic?” B.I. asks.

“Tired. Boss let me off early though, which is insane! He said I had been working hard and deserved a day or two off,” you say.

“He’s not wrong,” Yunhyeong says, “You’re the most hardworking person I know. I’m surprised he didn’t approach you earlier.”

“Thanks Hyeong,” you say.

You turn to address Bobby, ask him if he’d like to go out to dinner since you needed to talk to him. The two of you make eye contact, and just as you go to call out to him you’re interrupted.

“Ooh! Noona! Look what Donghyuk and I learned!” Chanwoo cheers, pulling you towards the middle of the room.

The maknaes begin to dance, pulling your attention away from Bobby and onto them. Bobby feels the rage from earlier fill his chest. Didn’t the maknaes know you were his?! 

“She’s not,” Bobby’s logical side puts out. “Yet,” his moral side replies.

Your laugh fills the room and Bobby’s heart jumps, then quickly fills with jealousy. That laugh wasn’t brought on by him. It was brought on by, “your babies.” Bobby loved you, but he hated that you treated the maknaes like babies and that they ate it up. From anyone else, his dongsaengs would growl and exclaim, “We’re adults! Not babies!” But for you, they’d put on diapers and onesies and drink from baby bottles if you asked. Bobby hated that. He stands from his place in the corner and makes his way over to you. He grabs your arm and proceeds to drag you out of the room. 

You gasp as Bobby grabs you, his grip around your wrist tight. You try to pull away, yet his hold tightens.

“Let go!” you growl, ripping your arm from his hand. “What the hell is your problem?!” you yell.

Bobby just stares at you. 

“Well? You gonna tell me why you’re dragging me out of the room like some neanderthal instead of using your words like a dignified human being? Oh, wait, you’re not one of those are you? You’re one to fuck ‘em ‘n leave ‘em,” you say, voice dripping venom.

Bobby looks taken aback for a moment before getting in your face and growling, “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

You laugh mirthlessly. 

“I think you know exactly what I mean. I’m sick and tired of taking you into my bed every night then waking up in the morning to find you gone. I’m not just some whore, Bobby. I’m your best friend, I think I deserve better than one night stand rules,” You yell, you’re so done with being treated like you are by Bobby that you don’t even realize that you’re telling everyone in the room your little secret.

“You think I don’t know that? This wasn’t even supposed to happen! We weren’t supposed to end up like this. I wish I could be there for you every morning after, but I have a job, ________. I can’t just stick around,” Bobby says.

“Not even to say goodbye? I thought you were better,” you throw back.

Bobby’s quiet for a second before he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear it, “If I stick around, even for a goodbye, I don’t think I’d be able to leave.”

Bobby looks up then, staring into your eyes.

“God, ________, I love you so much it hurts. I never mean to start a relationship like this with you. I’ve wanted to be with you for years, I just realized that today. I made myself think, after that first night, that the feelings I had for you were just physical. I’ve made myself believe that for the last two years. Today, leaving you was so damn hard. You looked so beautiful asleep. All I wanted to do was stay. I wanted to take my clothes back off, crawl back in bed with you, and hold you. I stared at you for ten minutes before I finally left. It hit me today, in this room, that my feelings for you are 100% more than just physical. I love you with all of my soul, ________,” Bobby whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.

Tears fill your eyes at Bobby’s confession and you stare into his deep brown eyes.

“I’m glad you feel the same way,” you whisper.

“What?” Bobby asks.

“I love you too, dumb ass,” you reply, playfully hitting his chest.

Bobby laughs and leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. The little bubble you and Bobby are in shatters like glass as the room around you erupts in cheers.

“Go hyung!” Chanwoo yells.

Bobby and you look at each other, the weight of what just happened slamming down on you. The two of you begin to smile quickly after though.

“Be my girl?”

“Was me telling you I love you not enough confirmation?” You ask, launching yourself into his arms and pressing your lips to his.

Bobby laughs and holds you against his chest tight, his lips molding against yours as the two of you kiss in the middle of the practice room. 

[greenappleeyes]

It Can’t Wait

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Based on this picture. He looks like he’s thinking “Shit. Y/N looks so hot right now. I wonder if anyone would notice if we left to fuck in the bathroom.”

Warnings: Pure porn (vaginal fingering, unprotected bathroom sex)

A/N: Written for @lazairahel. Nothing but love for Vicky. Pretend she’s happy elsewhere. Master tag list is at the end, let me know if you’d like to be added.

—————

Your phone read 8:27pm. “Fuck.” You hated being late. But, here you were, already 27 minutes late for a wrap party you were meeting Misha at and you still wouldn’t be there for another 15.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text from Misha. “Babe, sorry I’m late. Where are you sitting?”

“Fuck!” you said loud enough for your cab driver to grumble about. You were never going to hear the end of it from Misha. He was always late and you poked fun at him for it.

You took a breath before texting him back. “If you say a word I swear you will not see me naked ever again; but I’m running late.”

He responded immediately. “So when you say “a word,” is it any specific word I need to avoid? Because the pictures I have will not be enough for me.“

You blushed at the fact that he still had some risqué pictures you had texted him early on in your relationship. You sent him a final text, letting him know you’d be there soon and put your phone away.

Finally arriving to the party you walked in and looked for Misha. You didn’t see him, but he saw you immediately. Your schedules had been busy lately and the most he had been able to see you this month was the occasional selfie you would send him. He knew you were going back to his place after the party, but he wasn’t sure he could keep it in his pants that long.

You made your way to the bar and tried to get the attention of the bartender when you felt large hands grab your waist and slide down to your hips. You were about to tear this pervert a new one when you felt a scruffy cheek and a pair of lips brush against your ear. “Mmm.. Hey Babe. If I would have known you were wearing this short of a skirt with your fuck-me pumps we would have just bailed on this party and went straight to my place.”

You arched your back, pressing your ass against his already half-hard cock. “Ooh! Well hello Dmitri.”

He spun you around quickly and leaned back down to your ear, speaking in a thick Russian accent. “Hello, Y/N. I would very much like make sex in restroom, yes?”

You leaned into his chest, letting out a huge laugh. If any other man had said that to you, let alone in a fake Russian accent, it would have been an immediate turn off. But Misha? Your sexy, but equally dorky Misha? It only turned you on. Looking back up at him, he grinned wide at you and started dragging you to the back.

You were thankful this place had clean unisex bathrooms with locking doors. As soon as the door was locked, Misha was all over you. He had you pressed up against the wall as he kissed down your neck. One hand was wound up your back, holding a fist full of your hair while the other made its way up your skirt.

“Misha!” You squeaked. “What’s gotten into you, Baby? Damn!”

He chuckled darkly against your skin. “Nothing, Babe. But soon I’m gonna be in you, so get ready.”

His fingers dipped between your folds and he groaned at how wet you already were. He rubbed your clit between two fingers causing you to moan his name. “Shh, you’ve gotta be quiet Babygirl or else we’re gonna get caught.”

It took all your willpower to keep quiet when he slipped two long digits inside you. “Oh fuck… Misha!” you cried out loudly when he curled his fingers against your g-spot. He smiled and pulled his hand from you.

He moved you so you were bending over the sink and roughly lifted your skirt. You heard him fumbling with his belt and zipper while you stared at him through the mirror.

He stopped to stare back at you for a moment. “Oh fucking hell, do you have any idea how hot you look right now. Bent over, waiting for me, skirt bunched up showing off that perfect ass of yours, and in those fucking shoes!”

You smiled and wiggled your ass at him. “What are you waiting for then?”

He approached you quickly and rubbed his hand down your ass. When he reached between your legs, he pulled your thong to the side and lined his cock up to your soaked entrance. He pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his girth. “Fuck! You’re always so tight, Baby. You’re gonna make me lose it before the real fun starts!”

Feeling bold, you pushed your hips back and forth fucking yourself on to him. When he started meeting your thrusts you felt it become harder and harder to be quiet. “Oh god Misha! Yes!” “Shit, Babe, you gotta be quiet.” He loved to hear you scream for him, but he really didn’t want to get interrupted. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you upright and wrapped one of his hands around your mouth. You still couldn’t keep quiet, but your sounds were heavily muffled now.

You closed your eyes until Misha told you to open them again. “No. Eyes open. Look at how beautifully dirty you are. Letting me have my way with you in the bathroom with hundreds of people outside. How dirty are you Babygirl?”

You’re eyes went wide when he pulled out his phone and started filming your reflection. You decided to give him something good to view later by unbuttoning your blouse and undoing your front-clasp bra.

He grunted loudly as the sight of your bouncing breasts in the mirror. “I guess you are a dirty girl, aren’t you?” He started to pound into you harder and faster, panting between words. “Huh?! Whose… dirty girl… are you?!”

You cried out a muffled “Yours” as you felt your climax fast approaching. He brought his lips to your neck and sucked hard, leaving a purple bruise behind. “That’s it, dirty girl, come on my cock.”

You screamed into his palm as your pussy began to spasm around his cock. The feeling of your orgasm pushed Misha into his, causing him to let out a low guttural groan as he spilled into you.

You both bent over the counter together to catch your breath. “Shit, Babe. You’re amazing, you know that?” Misha asked. “Not many women would do what we just did.” He turned you around to face him. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Mish.” You cupped his face and brought him down to kiss you. “You should head out first. I’ll clean myself up and meet you out there.”

“Alright. I’ll see you out there.” He kissed you again and slipped out the door.

You leaned back against the wall thinking about how you just got fucked in a bathroom, but only Misha could take something so hot and dirty and end it on a romantic note. Just another reason you loved him.

————— Tag list: @splendidcas @Seasalticecream0131 @grunge-crybabies @love-charmer-sketch @hamartiamacguffin @heavenlyrainyparis @crowleysminion @mysteriouslyme81 @bitchasaurus @smoothdogsgirl @aly-birleanu @djs-lacrimose

[marleyjanerosearchived-blog]

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHEN I’M IN THIS DREAM || MARSON

TAGGING → MARLEY ROSE AND MASON MCCARTHY LOCATION → McCarthy House TIME FRAME → 3/4/17, Late late laaate at night on girls’ night. NOTES →Marley comes to Mason’s room after all of the girls are asleep to kiss him goodnight, and she ends up doing more than that. NSFW.

Marley: laid awake until she heard the downstairs fill with the sleepy breathing of all the girls, knowing that there was no way she could fall asleep until she was able to at least kiss Mason goodnight. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest restlessly as the minutes ticked by and time grew closer for her to be alone with him. When all was finally quiet, she quietly got out from under her blankets and tip-toed up the stairs, walking to Mason's room and tapping lightly on the door, "It's me."

Mason: was sitting back against his headboard, legs crossed in front of him, and flipping stations mindlessly. He just keep checking his watch. He never slept very well anyway, but knowing Marley could show up at any moment only kept him up all the more. He didn't want to miss that. Finally he heard soft knock and a whisper than he hoped didn't belong to Madison. "Me? Me who? Me the Boogeyman?" he asked as he cracked the door open. Being cute worked no matter the situation. He smiled when he saw Marley though. "You are much cuter than the Boogeyman."

Marley: giggled softly as she walked into the room, closing the door as quietly as she could and walking to the bed, "I was going crazy waiting for everyone to fall asleep," she admitted, her cheeks pink. "You did a horrible job of not looking at me, by the way."

Mason: just nodded, fully aware. "Yeah, I did that on purpose. Both because I like looking at you and to prove to Madison that she can't control my eyeballs. And because I won the Bring It On debate, no matter what she tells you," he added with a pointed look. A smile broke out on his face though and he patted the spot beside him on the bed. "Been having fun?"

Marley: nodded, "Yeah, honestly, it's been really nice? And my nails are neon pink now, so nothing can ever be wrong again, basically," she said, beaming at him. "I liked feeling your eyes on me. I liked knowing there were a bunch of girls in the room but I was the only one you were looking at," she said, biting her lip.

Mason: lifted his arm and settled it around Marley's shoulders once she came closer and he admired her nails. "Ooh, fancy," he teased. "Minus the few death glares I threw at Madison, yes, you definitely were. I would've forgotten there were other girls down there if it weren't for that general high pitched sound that happens when there's a group of you in one place."

Marley: laughed, "You're unbelievable - in a good way," she said. "And the whole time, every time I looked at you, I just wanted to kiss you, you know?" She said, rolling her eyes at how silly she felt.

Mason: hummed and smiled as he leaned in closer. "Well, I have very good news for you then. You can totally kiss me now. Nobody around to stop us." Without waiting, Mason leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He'd been aching for it just as long as she had.

Marley: pressed her hand to his cheek, pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss, smiling against his mouth, only breaking it to crawl on top of him, smiling mischeviously at him. "What?" She said innocently, "It's just...easier this way!"

Mason: raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her. "Easier for who?" he asked, tickling both of her sides simultaneously. "Cause if you ask me... it makes certain things a lot harder."

Marley: blushed, "...Damn," she said, "That was...God. Dammit, Mase," she said, giggling as he tickled her. She went in for another kiss, harder this time, her teeth tugging at his bottom lip gently. She moved down to kiss at his jaw, "God, I missed you."

Mason: laughed with her, shaking his head. "You started it," he accused playfully. His hands rested against her hips when she started kissing him again though. A small moan escaped him. "I missed you too. It really is rough being that close and not being to touch. How did we do it for so long before? We were idiots."

Marley: bit her lip, "Speak for yourself," she said wryly, "Just kidding, please still want me," she said, pressing a kiss to his temple, then going back to his jawline and down to his neck where he was soft and sensitive, tasting sinfully good. "I really shouldn't mark up your neck, but..." she trailed off.

Mason: let out a mock gasp, put just pulled her closer against him. "Yeah, they might be a little suspicious if I just wake up with a bunch of hickeys on my neck," he pointed out, though he made no move to stop her. "Feels nice though."

Marley: brushed her teeth against his neck, giggling, "I'm gonna move this down..." she said, pulling his shirt down to expose his clavicle, kissing and biting it, moaning a little as blood rushed to her cheeks. "How's that?"

Mason: sucked a quick breath in and tried to keep himself in check. "Mmm, that... that's good. Very good." His hand came up to her hair again, like a reflex. "Gosh, Marls. You're incredible."

Marley: smiled up at him, "You are," she said sweetly, tugging at his shirt, "Um, can I...can I take this off?"

Mason: looked down at himself for a moment, mostly to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he looked back up though, Marley was still looking at him and waiting for an answer. "Yeah. Yeah, of course." He leaned forward and let her drag his shirt over his body and up over his head. He settled back again and took a breath. It had been awhile since he'd been even this intimate with anyone and he really didn't want to be a spaz.

Marley: swallowed hard, "You're beautiful," she said sincerely, moving to kiss down his chest, sucking and biting marks into his pale skin, "You good?" She asked, moving back up to kiss him sloppily, straddling his hips.

Mason: licked his lips slowly and nodded. "I'm not sure there's a word for how good I am," he chuckled lowly. His fingers moved over her bare thighs and he felt himself hardening underneath his sweatpants. "God, Marls. You're stunning. And you feel so good."

Marley: could feel him hardening underneath her, his cock pressing against her inner thigh, startling her a little, but not in a bad way. She couldn't even answer him, she just kissed him harder, whimpering softly as she playfully grinded against him. "...Hey," she said, "I wanna do something for you."

Mason: 's moan upgraded to a full on groan when he felt her pushing against him. She was driving him a little crazy but in the best way possible. "Something? You're doing... a lot for me right now," he admitted, letting his eyes run down her body.

Marley: gasped when he groaned, "...How quiet can you be?" She asked, not wanting to wake up any of the girls. "Also...is it bad that I think...it's so incredibly hot - being here with you when they're all asleep?"

Mason: widened his eyes slightly, his hand coming up to his own lips. "Sorry," he muttered. "I can be quiet. I promise. Just forgot for a second there." His grin widened at Marley's admission and he shook his head. "Not bad at all. We can be quiet as mice."

Marley: nodded, "Do you have...either lube or lotion?" Marley asked, suddenly feeling confident and sexy, unsure of where it was even coming from. She decided, however, to roll with it - why not?

Mason: 's eyes darkened just listening to her. "You are so sexy," he declared before realizing she asked a question. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, there's lotion in the drawer." And then further realization hit him as to what might be about to happen and he had to catch his breath.

Marley: moved to reach into the drawer, grabbing the bottle of unscented lotion and kissing him hard again. "I don't know if I'm great at this," she said, suddenly a little nervous. "But I wanna make you feel good, so I'm gonna make you feel good, okay?"

Mason: nodded maybe a little too quickly. "You're already... doing amazing," he assured her. He cupped her cheek gently and brushed his finger over the soft skin there. "Should we... lay down maybe? I feel like that might be more comfortable."

Marley: nodded, "You lay down," she said, pushing him gently so that he'd lay against the pillows, then climbing on top of him, kissing him gently. "Good?"

Mason: wiggled his body down a little further until his head was resting against the pillows. "The view is lovely from down here," he said with a laugh. He probably sounded like an idiot he was so nervous. Thank god Marley liked his bumbling side.

Marley: laughed lightly, "It's not so bad from up here, either," she said, her hand moving to the elastic of his sweatpants. She reached inside and pulled out Mason's cock, looking just as impressive as he felt, though it didn't matter either way to her. She uncapped the lotion and slicked up her right palm, staying as close to him as she could - after all, there was no way she could do this without kissing him. It was less about the sexual aspect for her and more about showing her affection for him, which was deeper than she thought was possible so early on. Her hands slicked up, she wrapped her hand around his cock and began to stroke him up and down slowly, trying to figure out how he liked it. It was almost jarring, as this wasn't something she did every day, but in a thrilling way.

Mason: swallowed the lump that was stuck in his throat as he felt her touch him for the first time. Just a few weeks ago he was quietly worrying whether she even liked him and now they were here and everything was perfect. "Marls," he breathed out, concentrating on her eyes so this wouldn't end before it even started. "You're so beautiful. And wonderful and amazing. Gosh."

Marley: leaned forward, keeping it slow and steady, kissing him softly, so lightly at first that it was as if their lips weren't touching at all. She tightened her fist slightly, playing with the pressure. It was both confusing and exciting to figure out what worked for him and what didn't, but she figured that was part of the adventure. She pulled away from his lips and kept eye contact with him, recognizing that he needed that connection as much as she did. "And you are, too," she told him.

Mason: let out little gasping noises, still making sure he wasn't too loud. They may be a floor above everyone else, but he knew he was capable of groaning so loud the walls would shake if he really let himself. Marley was right though. It was exciting knowing they had to stay quiet, a turn on. His hips rocked up ever so gently, unable to stay down against the mattress.

Marley: moved a little faster, her face pressed against his, "Sweet boy," she said, twisting her wrist, "Tell me how good it feels," she whispered.

Mason: let out a small squeak when he first attempted to form words. He closed his eyes for a moment and ignored the proud little grin Marley was giving him, even if it was adorable. "It feels incredible," he told her quietly. "You feel incredible." He brought his hands up her sides, slipping beneath her t-shirt. He stopped just below her breasts and met her eyes again. "Can I?"

Marley: nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah," she breathed out, biting her lip as she felt him touching her. She didn't break eye contact as she quickened her pace slightly, using her free hand to massage his balls. "I love making you feel ​incredible​," she whispered, "You feel so good to me."

Mason: slid his hands up farther and cupped her breasts. "God, you're perfect," he breathed out in awe as his thumbs brushed over her nipples and he felt them responding to his touch. He could feel that familiar pull in his gut and he tried to memorize the moment before it came to an end all too quickly. He wished it could last forever. "Marls... babe. I'm gonna..." A low pitched whine escaped his throat as he came over her hand and his head fell back against the pillow again.

Marley: stroked him through his orgasm, "So good, baby," she praised him, letting him go when she was sure he was done. She reached over to grab tissues from his night stand, wiping off her hand and cleaning him up as well. She wasn't bold enough to lick it up, at least not today. She lay on top of him, burying her face in his neck, smiling proudly.

Mason: brought his arms up around Marley's body, even though it took some concentration just to move again. He just wanted to hold her close though, let her know how special she really was to him. "I feel... really good, but also kinda selfish," he admitted with a quiet laugh.

Marley: shook her head, "Don't, don't," she laughed quietly. "I did it 'cause I wanted to, not 'cause I wanted you to do anything."

Mason: turned his head so he could press kisses along Marley's neck. He wanted to make Marley feel incredible too, but he wasn't exactly filled with experience in the area. He didn't want to just go exploring down there and make things super awkward. He should probably do some research. Damn, he was rambling in his own head again. "Have I mentioned how incredible you are?"

Marley: nodded, "Once or twice, but I think it's worth repeating," she said with a smirk, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. "God, I hate that I have to go back downstairs. I'd love to just fall asleep right here."

Mason: brushed Marley's hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear carefully. He loved being able to see her eyes. "I know. I'd love that too. But someone might come looking for you. And neither of us wants that someone to be Madison," he reminded her, chuckling.

Marley: sighed, "God, I know," she said, scrunching up her nose. "Just a few more minutes...just...kiss me again?" She asked, tracing circles on his chest with her finger.

Mason: hummed as he smiled up at her. "Most definitely," he agreed with ease before guiding her back down to his lips. He really did wish they could spend the whole night together, even if they just kept sharing little kisses and whispers and nothing else, but this wasn't the time for that. Hopefully they could make it happen someday.

Marley: kissed him over and over, "Ugh," she said, after a few minutes. "I'm gonna go, okay? Dream good dreams...maybe make 'em about me," she said sweetly.

Mason: let out another whine, this one much grumpier than pleasurable. "Fiiine, if you must," he conceded. "And I definitely don't think I'll be dreaming about anything but you after tonight." He pulled her back for one last kiss. "Goodnight, my little Rose petal," he whispered to her.

Marley: forced herself to pull away, feeling pained to have to walk away. "Goodnight, love," she said softly, adjusting her t-shirt and slowly walking out of the room, stopping by the bathroom to wash up and splash some water on her face before smiling all the way back downstairs, feeling more confident than she'd felt in months.