#she's scrambled his brains in one move so now ... just know their work is suddenly much more simpatico

[primitiveside]

They didn't bother to take off his goggles when they strung him up on chains. They were too eager to punish and divide the duo dismantling little pieces of Umbrella's operations. Beatings blotted his skin like storm clouds. The tips of his boots dangling a hair's width from touching the floor.

"Too bad I couldn't have you like this in better circumstances. We could have both enjoyed this." @umbrellamedic says as Riddick's bindings go loose.

He comes down on his boots with all that mass. Chains clanging hard on the floor. A deep, furrow-stricken brow has been set since her appearance. Riddick looks up from his shackles with it. No witty rejoinder, no dry comeback. His perpetual pouty frown quiet in its uncertainty.

The disembodied voice darkened in irritation: Who do you think you are?

"This guy talks too much," Riddick rumbled. The scoundrel, revived by his sense of getting even, looking worthy of all the trouble as a dribble of red pooled into his cupid's bow while he but smiled. A dastardly, subtle promise of revenge to come.

"Let's change that."

The arriving reinforcements are another obstacle to be bested. Simply in the way of shipping ledgers they are after. Priority number two, newly added: find that chatterbox fucker and kill him.

The pointmen, entering first, have their orders to preserve the specimen if possible. Riddick has his own code to abide by, to their misfortune, which preserves the self above all else. The medic could handle herself, she's proven it in bloodshed and staying alive. And if ever she couldn't keep up, Riddick had promised to leave her behind to her fate. This fight, this time, he checks in to see that she's not getting overwhelmed. He owes her, and she is paid in the silent shifted phase of their tentative partnership; in this modicum of attentiveness to her safety.

[effwon]

'cause i don't think that they'd understand || ln4 x reader (Part 2/2)

Summary: Lando just wants to walk down to the garage before the Miami race with you by his side. George and Carmen walked in together, Alex and Lily walked in together, so why can't you, as well? Despite your self-consciousness, you agree to walk hand-in-hand with him down to the garage right before the big race, but it's a much harder ask for you than anyone could ever realize.

PART ONE HERE

Plus-size (she/her) Reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Brief mentions of nausea/being sick, panic, reader is plus-sized and very down on herself about it, weight mentions, ect.

Characters: Lando Norris (your boyfriend) and feat Oscar Piastri as a last minute saving grace for you.

Rating: G.

Tags: @cthgee @hellof-1 @notpeachybby

Notes: Thank you for the feedback on part 1! Feedback is what keeps a writer writing, after all! I started this as an experiment and genuinely did not expect the love that would come with it. I put together a part 2 on the fly (I hadn't planned to write it, actually, I didn't think the response would be this high) and am happy to put this to rest now, to work on some other reader fics. I'm happy to entertain requests, just know that smut is not something I will write in detail (I know, that's what most of you want, I'm sorry). Thank you for the support!

Your eyes flutter open and all you can see above you is a blur of light orange and a bright light. A soft groan escapes the back of your throat, and you turn your head to the side to try and keep the light out of your eyes. Your head is swimming, like there’s a pressure pushing against your brain that you can feel as far as the back of your eyes as well. You are laying on something warm and soft, but most definitely alive - if the gentle shuffling beneath you is anything to go by, anyway.

You furrow your brows as you hum out another soft, confused sound. Very slowly, you try to sit up, but someone’s hand presses against your shoulder and applies a little force, enough to keep you from moving in your hazy state.

“Lando?” you ask, your voice soft and unnaturally raspy. Something isn’t quite right. You don’t remember falling asleep - you don’t even really know where you are, but it only makes sense that Lando would be the one with you…right? As you continue to blink your vision back to clarity, a face comes into view above you - one that is very much not Lando. It’s Oscar Piastri, that much your brain can at least piece together. Around him, the walls start to come into view. The ceiling, the toilet, the vanity to your left…

“Not quite, but I promise he’s coming.” Oscar says above you, and you are grateful that he’s barely speaking louder than a whisper. Your head is pounding and your stomach is churning as everything starts to put itself together. You’re only missing a handful of key puzzle pieces, now.

“Oscar?” You mumble, instinctively curling into his warmth for any ounce of comfort you can glean. One of his hands comes up and carefully, thoughtfully brushes stray hair out of your face. You realize he’s attempting to be soothing, as your brain keeps working to figure this out.

“Yep, that one.” he replies, flashing you a smile that seems, in your opinion, quite tense. Right, it’s slowly coming back.

The bathroom - Lando led you to the bathroom at your request, and then left to get himself into his race kit. You were sick, and immediately after vomiting into the sink, a panic attack had taken hold of you. And then –

Your eyes widen slightly in horror. Oscar, right. You had forgotten to lock the door and he - oh, god, he –

“How long was I out?” you ask suddenly, shooting yourself upright in his arms. He blinks back shock, obviously not expecting you to move so quickly, and looks down at his watch for a brief moment.

“Uh, three minutes? It’s not been long.” 

“Jesus,” you gasp, scrambling out of his comforting grip and backing yourself up against the wall. Oscar looks a bit lost, eyes full of concern as he holds his hands out in front of him, fingers splayed. “I’m sorry - oh my god, that’s - I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s okay.” he assures you, eerily still as he watches you with a careful gaze. “I’m sorry for touching you without permission. I didn’t want you to hit your head when you fell.”

“That’s not -” you shake your head, feeling your throat tightening with emotion. “No, thank you. That’s not the problem, I promise. I appreciate you.” Anxiety is beginning to swirl in your chest again, but you can feel just how fatigued your body is now. The anxiety, at least, is easier to manage versus pure panic, but it’s making your head spin. 

“It’s okay.” Oscar says again, a bit firmer this time. “I phoned Lando a moment ago, and he’s making his way back right now. I told him I’d stay with you until he got here.”

You nod, relieved to know that Lando would be back for you any moment. You are also grateful for Oscar’s company, regardless of the fact that you hardly know him. Clearly, he’s kind and caring - which doesn’t surprise you, really. Lando hasn’t ever had an off-color thing to say about him.

“Thanks, Oscar. I’m so sorry you had to witness all of-” you swirl your finger around in a circle, searching for the right word, “that. But it means a lot that you didn’t just leave me there.”

“Of course. I don’t know what’s got you so upset, but I hope that you feel better soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. I think it’s a little better already.”

Oscar smiles at you, friendly and kind, and before either of you can utter another word, there’s a frantic knocking at the bathroom door. Oscar’s head snaps back to the door, letting out a small “Oh” as he hops up to his feet and hurries over to unlock the door. Lando’s face comes into view as soon as the door opens, and he looks absolutely distraught. Your chest clenches, knowing that you’re the reason he’s out of sorts, and you lay your head back against the wall.

“When did she wake up? Is she okay? What happened?” you hear Lando ask frantically, firing questions at Oscar before they can be answered. 

Oscar takes it in stride, “She just woke up a moment ago, and she was a bit dazed. She seems okay now, but I don’t know what caused all of this.”

“Thanks, Osc.” Lando breathes, and you can hear the genuine warmth in his tone. “I’ll take it from here, mate.”

There’s a soft ‘click’ as the bathroom door closes, and a slightly louder one as Lando locks the door behind him. His footfalls are quick as he rushes over to you, immediately sliding down the wall to sit next to you on the floor. You look over at him, and your gazes meet for merely a second before he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.

His scent and the warmth of his body is familiar and comforting in ways you couldn’t possibly verbalize. It’s akin to taking a deep, calming breath of air into your lungs and feeling everything inside of you just slow down for a moment. It’s the relief of the familiarity, the delicacy in which he cradles your head against his heart like you’re his most precious thing.

It makes a lump form in your throat. But you are far too tired for tears, now. Too tired for much of anything but this: sitting here on a dirty bathroom floor, cradled in Lando’s arms.

“I thought you were alright when I left,” he says, so very miserably, “why didn’t you tell me you weren’t? I would’ve stayed.”

“I’m sorry.” you murmur, your voice muffled by the fireproof suit over his chest. You can hear his heart beating rapidly, a gentle barrage of distressed thumps against your ear, and it twists something so deeply in your own chest. You properly worried him, which was the exact opposite of what you wanted to do. “I thought I could work through it while you were changing and that things would be okay by the time you got back.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he urges ever so softly, his hand running up and down your back in the most soothing patterns. You can’t help feeling the warmth of relief encompassing you being back in his presence.

It helps the words flow much easier, without stopping to doubt or scrutinize everything that comes out of your mouth. “It was a panic attack, it didn’t really pop up until after I had initially calmed down. It happens like that sometimes.” You explain, focusing on the ever-present beating of his heart beneath your ear. “Or - it happens like that a lot for me, I guess. Once the initial fight or flight wears off, the real panic comes out. It made me sick and, I dunno, I guess Oscar startled me when he came in and before I even really knew it, I went down.”

Lando’s grip tightens on you almost protectively as he registers your explanation. “Just went down? You say it like it’s the most casual thing.” He scoffs, but there’s no mirth or amusement behind it. You can tell he’s still nervous, still trying to process everything. “Oscar said pretty much the same. Blessing and a curse you forgot to lock the door then, huh?”

You laugh breathily at that, nodding your head in agreement. Had Oscar not been there, you surely would’ve hit your head on the tile and that could’ve been a much scarier sight to behold when someone came by to use the restroom later. As embarrassing as it was to break down in front of someone you hardly knew, you were grateful for his willingness to assist. You would have to find him and give him a proper thank you later.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy.” You agree, nuzzling into his chest even further. If it were up to you, you would simply lay here in his arms all day long and not think a single thing of it - but you are distinctly aware of the time and of his looming race. Something he should be putting his entire focus into, and not on you. “Now shouldn’t you be out there getting ready for the race?” “Probably,” he admits with a chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “But I don’t want to leave here until I know for sure you’re alright.”

His thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze you. Perhaps you’d found him to be a bit taught and agitated earlier (and, perhaps, you had deserved that sort of response from him, given your nearly blatant refusal to simply walk across the paddock into the garage with him), but he’s back to his normal warmth and gentleness once more. A relief, you think, in and of itself.

“I’m alright now, really.” you say, lifting your head up from his chest to flash him a soft, sweet little smile. It isn’t a lie, either. Since he’s come back, you’ve felt exponentially better - a result of the panic attack waning and being in the comforting presence of the person you love most in the world. “I’d really like to go see everything else you wanted to show me.”

Lando’s eyes light up in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. He’s always been a bit reactive, with his heart on his sleeve, and you wouldn’t have him any other way if you’re honest. The genuine excitement that sparks on his face is everything you could ever want or need in life. Just to see him happy, it’s enough. It makes every horrible name you call yourself, every fear, every insecurity and every worry melt away into nothing, like it had never even been there to begin with.

“Let’s get some lunch at hospitality first, and then I’ll take you out to see the car afterwards.” He suggests, lifting himself up from the floor and offering you a helpful hand. “I know a little spot we can eat, away from the cameras and all that.”

Even after the hell you’ve put him through today, a soft feeling blossoms in your chest to know he’s still holding you to the forefront of his mind. He’s still looking for ways to make you more comfortable. He’s still loving you, despite your glaring insecurities. You take his hand, skin warm against yours, and lift yourself up onto your feet with his help.

“I think that sounds lovely.” you reply, reaching up and cupping his cheeks in your hands. You stand on the tips of your toes and lean in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Lando’s lips. His breath falters for a mere moment, and then he’s kissing you back just as softly, just as gently. As you pull apart, there’s a shy smile on his face that makes your cheeks burn and your chest ignite with adoration. Even if you tried, you do not think you could possibly love him more.

“I think you’re lovely.” He shoots back, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Your cheeks burn even hotter at his remark, and you bury your face into his shoulder to keep the blush from being too obvious. 

“I think you’re going to make me too sick to eat if you keep this up.”

Lando tosses his head back and laughs, genuine and sweet, the sound washes over you with its subtle burst of serotonin - a much needed side effect.

“Fine, fine, I’ll save the ooey-gooey stuff for after the race, then. Just one more quick thing though-” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist as he leans in to press a kiss to your temple. This time, you choose not to shy away from his touch, no matter how big and gaudy your body feels wrapped up in his arms. “I love you.”

Your heart flutters like the wings of a caged bird, yearning to break out of your chest and nestle up tight within his own. You smile, tossing all of the bad thoughts from earlier in the day out of your mind completely. Once again you’ve learned: as long as you have Lando with you, everything really is okay. “I love you, too.”

The news articles do drop early the next morning, from multiple sources, with their rude and hateful headlines about you, your body type, and your worth in regards to Lando’s love. And, just as you expected, each and every one of them hits like a knife to your gut as you see them pop up one after another on your feed.

But, at the end of every single one of these articles is the same quote from Lando - the only quote he offered the reporters on the matter of your relationship during the entire day.

“Quite frankly, I don’t care what anyone thinks of our relationship. It isn’t their business, it’s mine and her’s, and I genuinely think she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. Nothing is going to change that.”

And you just smile.

[makeadealwithdean]

taking good care of you. steddie smut, 18+ only, minors dni, 4.2k

Steve wasn’t even ashamed of himself.

Sure, he could admit that maybe he should be, and true, stripping his lube-covered cock to thoughts of his best friend wasn’t something he was proud of. But laying on his back, staring up at his ceiling, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. It just felt wayyy too damn good.

He tried to push his mind towards other things. Things he probably should be thinking about. Boobs. Girls riding him. Long hair brushing his cheeks as she leaned over to kiss him. Maybe dark, curly hair— Fuck, he was thinking of Eddie again. That didn’t take long.

But thinking of Eddie’s face, those pretty brown eyes staring back at him, caused Steve’s dick to twitch in his hand, so really, he couldn’t be mad at himself.

Thump, thump, Ed-die, Ed-die. Steve’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and to his maybe over excited brain, it sounded like a pattern, a mantra that was Eddie’s name, sounding over and over again in his mind. 

The fire burning in his gut only grew with each beat of his heart and each thought of the unruly metalhead that, as of recently, had taken up permanent residence in Steve’s head.

He was so wrapped up in letting his fantasies of Eddie run fucking wild that he failed to hear the first thud against his door.

The mental image that currently held Steve’s focus was that of his friend sinking down onto his cock over and over. Hot and wet and soft– his walls would practically suck Steve inside of him, he thought. He’d hardly have to do any work, but Eddie would let him grasp his thighs, his ass, maybe he’d even get to rub him off while he was still seated, and he’d be saying Steve’s name— fuck, that’d be so hot. He couldn’t help panting just thinking about it. Fuck.

There was a soft thump again at the door, and suddenly, it swung open. Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, shit. 

It was Eddie. He bounced in with a smile, “Ste–” The word died on his lips as he took in the sight in front of him. “Oh, shit.” And then he froze. As in, not moving. As in, just stood there, not leaving— just…there.

“Shit!” Steve scrambled to pull the closest pillow over his lap, which thankfully was one of a normal size, not a throw pillow, so it provided full coverage from his friend’s stunned stare. “Shit, sorry, Eddie, um. I didn’t know you were here… Um.”

Steve didn’t know what else to say. Say something, he silently begged the boy in front of him.

Eddie threw his hand over his eyes, now somewhat unnecessarily, and then seemingly realizing that, slowly pulled his hand down. His face was bright red. His eyes nervously flicked back and forth between Steve and the floor, “Steve, um, I am so sorry. I thought you knew I was here. I mean, I knocked and called your name, and I thought you said mine back so…”

Steve’s face matched the shade that Eddie’s was in two seconds flat, his eyes wide with panic. Shit, he hadn’t actually said that out loud, had he? Not his friend’s name, aloud, jacking off, while said friend called to him from just outside the door? No… that couldn’t have happened. This couldn’t be happening.

Eddie trailed off as he appeared to have realized what he just said, his mouth gaping just a bit. “Umm. Wait, so you didn’t know I was here?”

Steve swallowed. He could lie to him, but 1) he hated lying to his friends, and 2) Eddie would see right through him. If he’d known Eddie was here, he wouldn’t have been jacking off, and frankly, there was no reason for him to be saying Eddie’s name in the middle of that,,, other than the truth. God, this was gonna fuck everything up. He just knew it, but he owed him his honesty. Especially after he’d seen all that.

Steve slowly shook his head. And then stared down at his hands fidgeting on top of his modesty pillow. 

“So, um,” Eddie scratched the back of his head and blinked like he couldn’t believe he was about to ask this question, “then why…? I swear I heard…”

“I said it,” Steve blurted out abruptly, mostly to have it over with and also because maybe some small part of him hoped that just maybe… But Eddie just looked startled. 

“Your name. I said your name,” Steve clarified. His face was still burning, and Eddie was still just standing there. It was fucking killing him— Steve felt like he was withering away even as they spoke.

“You…” Eddie nodded once slowly, processing. Steve chanced a glance at Eddie’s face, expecting to see something between confusion and anger, or maybe even disgust. Instead, he saw an expression he definitely hadn’t expected.

Eddie was smiling. That fucking unhinged, almost creepy, signature Eddie-Munson grin. He was also trying not to, but that grin was wild. It was raw, unfiltered emotion; though Steve couldn’t put a particular name to that emotion immediately. The corners of his mouth started to twitch, almost like…

“Are you laughing at me?” Steve demanded.

Now, Eddie laughed, “No, Stevie. I’m not laughing at you, it’s just— well, you look like you’re about to jump right outta your skin.”

“Well, yeah!” Steve defended, “you walked in on me with my dick out!” 

“And,” Eddie said with a triumphant smirk, “you said my name.”

Steve glared.

“Now, why was that again, big boy? I don’t think I ever got a reason.” Eddie traipsed over and plopped himself down on the bed, right up against Steve’s thigh. Steve looked at the wall, determined not to look at this lanky man who was apparently making fun of him in his own goddamned room.

But that lasted all of two seconds because Eddie reached up and gently turned Steve’s face back towards his own. Much to Steve’s horror, the gesture caused his dick to twitch once again— God, why did Eddie have to fucking look at him like that? He had never been more thankful for that pillow.

“Are you gonna tell me, hm?” Eddie asked him, much more softly now, maybe aware that he was walking onto unsteady ground. “Or am I gonna have to guess?” He rested his palm gently on Steve’s thigh, just below the pillow, and Steve gasped inwardly. Was Eddie really going there with this?

“Ummm,” Steve croaked, reeling from coming off first petrified, then indignant, to…something else. Intrigued? Confused? Shocked? Horny? Yeah, definitely still horny. 

Might as well tell him the truth, Steve decided. There was no point in denying it, especially since Eddie had already figured it out. Not that that had been hard to do. Steve rolled his eyes at himself inwardly. Stupid.

Before he could get another word out, Eddie cut in, his smug persona dipping for a second, revealing that he was, in true Eddie-fashion, about to vibrate out of his skin. 

“Were you, uh, thinking about me?” His brown eyes looked up at Steve earnestly for a second, before slowly dragging down Steve’s hair-covered chest. “Cause,” he rushed on, “if you were, I might offer to help you out.” 

Eddie said it almost like a question, but when Steve gave him a wide-eyed look and shifted uncomfortably, he smirked. 

Did Eddie really just say that to me? 

Shit. I should probably say something. 

Is he serious?

Steve’s internal monologue was having three different conversations all at once, his mind asking a thousand questions, but all he could manage to get out was, “Um. You— what?”

Eddie’s smirk faltered a little, “You can say no, Steve. I can walk out, and we can forget this ever happened. Or…”

He trailed off, and Steve’s mind once again raced trying to fill in the blank. No, he didn’t want Eddie to leave. Get a grip, Steve. 

“No, um, yes.”

Eddie smirk returned, “I don’t know what that means, Stevie.”

Steve huffed because Eddie’s shit-eating grin was getting old. At least, when it was at the expense of his own embarrassment. “I mean stay.”

“Stay and what?” Eddie raised an eyebrow as if he was still uncertain what Steve meant. 

“Eddie—”

“No, say it or I’m walking out,” Eddie took his hand off Steve’s thigh and placed it on the mattress as if he was about to stand to leave. 

Steve grabbed his wrist, glaring at him again, and gritted out, “Stay and—” he hesitated again, but only briefly, “help me.”

“Good enough,” Eddie hummed before surging forward and pulling his friend into a searing kiss. 

He kissed like Steve imagined he would. Or…maybe he didn’t. He started rough, all teeth and huffing breaths, but once Steve got over his initial shock and began to kiss him back, he slowed down a bit. Just as passionate as he’d started, only gentler, as if he were offering Steve the chance to take the lead. 

Steve was content to let Eddie guide him towards pleasure though. His dick had slightly deflated from the horror of being walked in on by the very object of his *ahem* affections, but had now fully recovered, and Steve could feel it straining against the pillow that was now pinned between him and Eddie.

He shifted slightly, and Eddie, noticing his movement, broke the kiss, a thin string of saliva still connecting them, to ask, “Mm, can I move this, baby?” His hand moved to the edge of the pillow as if to pull it away, but he didn’t, clearly waiting for Steve’s okay.

But Steve, whose brain had short circuited for a second at Eddie’s “baby,” didn’t answer immediately or even register what Eddie had said before the pet name, just nuzzled into the older boy’s cheek, inhaling the scent of his hair, weed and that cheap cologne he always wore. Eddie chuckled at Steve’s answer, or lack thereof.

“Stevie—” Eddie prompted softly, pulling back and smiling as Steve pouted at the loss of contact. “D’you want me to touch you or not?”

“Yes! Yes, god, Eds,” Steve nodded, reaching towards him as if he was worried Eddie would slip away, given the chance. “Please.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie hushed him gently, leaning into him as he yanked the pillow out from in between them and straddled Steve’s thighs, “M’gonna, just had to make sure you’re okay. M’not going anywhere, shh.”

With the only barrier, save Eddie’s clothes, separating them gone, Steve was whining, the rough denim of Eddie’s jeans dragging against his bare cock. “S-sensitive,” he stuttered into Eddie’s neck.

“Already? Barely even touched you, sweetheart,” Eddie laughed, kissing his hair. “Now, tell me what you want.”

“Huh?” Steve’s face crinkled in confusion, his head tilted slightly. His brain was too foggy to think clearly. His breath came in pants, “What– whaddya mean?”

Eddie smirked fondly, “C’mon, I know how worked up you are. I don’t think you’ll last much longer, baby. So tell me how you want me to make you come. Or… were you wanting to do that yourself?”

Steve shook his head almost frantically, his big eyes gazing at Eddie, pleading,” N-no, want you to do it, please?”

“I said I would, pretty boy. Anything, you name it.”

Steve’s eyes got even bigger, “Anything?”

“Anything,” Eddie confirmed. He pushed his hips forward gently, his jeans once again brushing Steve’s dick. He shuddered at the touch and wrapped his fingers around Eddie’s belt loops, pulling him closer. His fingers wandered to the button and the zipper, and he looked up with the prettiest pout Eddie had ever seen, pupils blown wide with want. “Can I? Please?” He tugged at the waistband for emphasis, but didn’t move to undo anything until Eddie nodded.

“Go on, then,” Eddie quipped, not missing the subtle way Steve’s breath hitched at his command. Steve undid his pants with more dexterity than Eddie would’ve thought possible, with the way Steve was speaking. He looked positively fucked out, and they hadn’t even done more than kiss.

“Take ‘em off, please?” Steve pleaded, fingertips already wandering under the elastic of Eddie’s boxers. 

“Everything?” Eddie prompted, hoping Steve would continue pleading with those little whimpers and pouts of his. He wasn’t disappointed. Steve already looked nearly in tears with desperation when he nodded. Eddie obliged, standing and stripping completely, leaving them both totally bare to each other.

Eddie tugged the covers down a little from Steve’s lap, leaving himself enough room to kneel in between the younger boy’s legs. He settled on his knees, grinned, and then flung his arms out dramatically, “How do you want me, my king?” 

Steve didn’t know what to say. He felt way too flustered to even speak. Even Eddie’s dorky “King Steve” reference couldn’t dampen the fire he felt growing in his gut, just from seeing Eddie’s tattooed and naked form. He had imagined this before, but holy shit, the real thing was so much better. He didn’t wanna push Eddie’s limits though, so he stuttered out, “D-do you wanna blow me?”

“I would be happy to, baby, but you sound hesitant. Why don’t you tell me what it is you really want, hmm?” Eddie hooked a hand behind the boy’s neck, and as he bent to leave faint marks on the pale skin of his neck, Steve melted into his shoulder, letting out a broken sounding whine. Apparently he didn’t need much convincing. 

“Wanna— I wanna be inside you, Eds,” he cried, hot breath fanning across Eddie’s shoulder and neck. “Please, please, let me!”

“Ohh, there’s my sweet boy,” Eddie cooed as he wound his fingers up into Steve’s normally perfect hair. He scratched gently at the skin of his scalp, hoping that would help relax him a bit; though, Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t think the sight of Steve nearly in tears, bucking his hips in desperation was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. “Let you be inside of me? That, I can do.”

Steve gasped, “Really? Cause you don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I know it’s a lot, maybe it’s too much to start? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, just—”

“Stevie, Stevie!” Eddie’s voice cut through Steve’s spiral. “First, I’m the one who said anything, and second, I was hoping you’d ask for that, cause honestly, you’re fucking massive, baby. Been dreaming about getting that thick cock inside me.” He dropped a reassuring kiss on Steve’s sweaty forehead and smiled as Steve visibly relaxed against him.

“Fuck. Fuck, Eds, I can’t believe—” Steve shook his head, looking adorably bewildered as to how he ended up in this position, when truthfully, Eddie was the shocked one. If someone had told him a year ago, he’d be going for a ride on King Steve’s infamous cock, he would’ve asked for a hit of whatever they’d been smoking. But here he was, and there Steve was, resting back against the headboard with this look in his eyes, like Eddie had hung the moon or something.

“C’mon, let’s get you comfortable, sweet boy,” Eddie backed up on his knees, grabbing Steve’s pretty thighs, giving him a few meaningful tugs to coax him towards where he wanted him. Steve got the idea, and soon, with Eddie’s help, he was lying flat on his back with just his head resting on the soft pillows. 

“Perfect, you’re doing so good for me,” Eddie told him as he straddled his stomach once again, his knees supporting all his weight so that his ass just hovered right over Steve’s impressive length. His cock would’ve been standing straight up, but the sheer weight and girth of it didn’t allow for it. Eddie’s, however, being thinner, stood straight out, waving with every little movement he made, and Steve was obviously transfixed. His eyes followed its every move, and Eddie chuckled at the awed look in his eyes, “Like what you see?”

Steve tore his eyes away from Eddie cock and up to his face to answer him, “Uh-huh, uh, a lot. Can I?” He inclined his head towards it, his hands making a grabby motion, but not yet touching.

“Well,” Eddie reached for the lube that Steve had conveniently left on his bedside table, and flicked the cap open, reaching behind to start opening himself up, “of course, you can, sweetheart. So perfect for asking me. Why don’t you make me feel good while I get all ready for you?”

“Oh,” Steve said, doing as Eddie asked and wrapping his fingers around his length, “d’ya need me to– y’know, help you?”

“That’s okay, I may have already opened myself up a bit this morning, and who knows? Maybe I was thinking of you as I did it,” Eddie winked, smirking as Steve managed to look even more awed than before. He loved the effect he had on the boy, and having this power over him was definitely giving him a slight ego.

“Shit, that’s so fucking hot,” Steve moaned, throwing his head back on the pillows and still obediently pumping Eddie’s shaft, whined, “Want you please, let me, I need you so fucking bad, Eddie—”

And Eddie, hissing as Steve’s grip tightened on him, pressed his non-lubed up hand on Steve’s chest, bracing himself. He grabbed Steve’s shaft and lined up, the tip catching on his rim as he rubbed it against himself. Steve let out a choked noise, but angel that he was, kept still; though his big eyes pleaded with Eddie to hurry.

“S’alright, I gotcha, big boy. Just— gimme a second to adjust, mkay?”

Steve nodded, hands resting briefly on Eddie’s thighs, allowing him to concentrate on the feeling of the ring of muscle stretching over the thick head. Eddie placed both hands on Steve’s chest, fingers winding gently into the hair there as he braced for the pain of the stretch. It hurt, but not too much thanks to Eddie’s earlier tryst with himself, and gradually, the pain began to morph into pleasure.

“Fuuuuckkk,” Eddie moaned as he sank down onto Steve’s length until he was fully seated. He let himself rest for a minute, his weight sagging onto the hips of the boy now panting harder underneath him, every huff of air coming out higher-pitched than the one before. Steve looked like a fucking wet dream, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and chest heaving as he pouted up at Eddie to “move, please, I–I can’t—”

Eddie felt the pain subside completely, and he was about to ride the former jock off into the sunset, when he remembered the whimpers Steve had let out every time he’d praised him or given him an order. “What, baby?”

Steve stuttered out some variation of his previous request, but Eddie just leaned down to his ear, taunting, “I don’t know what you said, Stevie. Now, be a good boy, and use your words f’me.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in a mixture of shock. He tipped his head back into the pillow, moaning, and Eddie swore he felt his dick kick inside of him. He managed a shaky, “Please, Eddie, need you to move, please. Please let me feel you?”

“That’s my boy,” Eddie cooed, using his thumb to wipe away some moisture under Steve’s eye. “Hang on, baby, I’m about to make you feel so good.”

He sat up straight and began to move up and down. Slowly at first, then gradually building a pace that had Steve’s toes curling.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Steve chanted as Eddie slammed down on his cock over and over again. Eddie reached behind him, gripping the top of the headboard and using it as leverage to increase his speed. Steve moaned pitifully underneath him. His lips were bitten red and shiny from how much he’d been licking them.

That sound. Steve’s moans had Eddie harder than he’d thought possible, and truthfully, he’d been hard since he’d accidentally walked in on Steve with his dick in his hand. The same dick that was now overwhelming his senses. He was so big, and with the drag of it along his walls and the sight of his friend lost in pleasure, it was taking every ounce of self-control he had to appear as collected as he did. So he gritted his teeth, pumping his own aching cock to relieve some of the pressure, and forbade himself from coming.

And it was worth it to watch as Steve fell apart.

Eddie's thighs burned, and he shifted from the up and down motion to grinding, rolling his hips. With the shift in angle, Steve was nailing that spot inside him that Eddie had only found a few times on his own, and suddenly, he was seeing stars. 

“Fuckfuckfuck–” he cried, nearly losing his composure completely. “Right there, Steve, right there, baby! Shit, that’s so good. Almost made me come.”

When he looked into Steve’s face, he saw a plethora of emotions. The desperation and need for him was still there, but this time he found a bit of determination in the boy’s watery eyes.

Steve placed his hands on Eddie’s hips and breathing hard, said in a raspy, nearly broken voice, “God, please let me make you come, Eds. I swear I’ll do good, please say I can!” Tears slipped out from the corners of his eyes and ran down to the pillows as he begged, pleaded, with Eddie to allow him to help.

And who was Eddie to deny him? Especially looking like that.

“Show me what you got, big boy,” Eddie released the headboard and leaned back, supported by Steve’s bent knees. He stroked his cock, thumb swiping over the tip, and used his own pre-come as lube.

Steve nodded, gripping Eddie’s hips so tightly Eddie thought he might leave little fingerprint bruises. Steve pushed up on his feet and set his own pace, fucking up into Eddie’s heat with such speed and accuracy, Eddie knew he was done for. He’d wanted Steve to come first, himself be damned, but if Steve was so insistent on needing Eddie to finish first…well, again, who was Eddie to deny him?

“Steve!” Eddie practically screamed his name. “Yes, baby, right fucking there! Doing so, so good. Gonna make me come— ah, don’t stop!”

And Steve didn’t stop. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, and he was now fully in tears for how good it felt, but he could feel Eddie tightening around him. He knew that’s how he wanted to come— with Eddie squeezing and tightening around him. “Yeah? Yeah, please, Eddie, want you to come so bad!”

Steve watched as Eddie’s face scrunched up, and he gasped, hand still flying on his cock, “Ah! Ah, I’m coming, I’m coming, fuuuckkkk—” White ropes shot from his tip landing all over his hand, and Steve’s chest. His muscles were squeezing Steve like a fucking vice, and it was all Steve could do to ask first.

“That’s it, fuck, Eds. I needa— shit, can I come, like ins—” He hadn’t even finished the question before Eddie was nodding frantically, his muscles still constricting with pleasure.

“Fuck, yeah, do it, baby.” Given Eddie’s consent, Steve let go.

He let out a guttural moan as his balls seized up, and he released immediately, shooting white-hot stripes that made every slight movement clear and loud with obscenely wet sounds. Steve threw his head back, eyes shut tight, just feeling. For a moment, it was only him and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

He must’ve said it out loud because Eddie praised him in a voice rougher than normal, “That’s right, Stevie. Say my fucking name, baby.” 

Steve cried as the pulsing of his cock began to slow, rhythmically pushing out the last drops of come he had to offer. His body sagged into the mattress, fully exhausted; though he lifted his head to watch Eddie push up on his knees. There was a creamy white ring at the base of Steve’s cock, and he watched his own come drip and ooze from Eddie’s entrance as he gently slipped out. The sight could’ve made him hard again, if he wasn’t so damn tired.

Eddie slipped off of him, rolling and laying down beside him. Steve let his head fall sideways to see him, eyes already starting to close, but he fought off the sleepiness until after Eddie had pushed his hair back from his damp forehead and cleaned the come and lube off of his chest and softening dick with the discarded hellfire shirt. Eddie lifted his own hips, cleaning himself up as best he could, before chucking the shirt onto the floor. 

“Did that just happen?” Steve asked sleepily, looking so adorably fucked-out that Eddie could’ve spent the next hour fussing over him. 

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and then his lips. 

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Um, I like you,” Steve’s eyelids closed as he waited for Eddie’s response.

“No shit,” Eddie teased softly, without an ounce of malice in his voice. “I like you, too, Stevie. Now, c’mere,” He ushered him into his open arms, Steve’s back pressed to Eddie’s chest, “let’s talk about that when you’re not so sleepy, hmm?”

Steve nodded, and though he couldn’t see it, Eddie could feel him smiling as he let himself drift off. 

Eddie buried his nose in the boy’s hair, and let the scent of shampoo and Steve lull him to sleep.

written for @steveharringtonbingo and @eddiemunsonbingo

squares filled: C1 for Steve: "Help me." ; A3 for Eddie "topping from the bottom

title: taking good care of you

rating: explicit

word count: 4.2k

ship: steddie (steve harrington x eddie munson)

tags/warnings: smut, masturbation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, topping from the bottom!eddie, subby!steve, fluffy stuff, totally unbeta'd

summary: It's bad enough that Steve is thinking about Eddie while jacking off. He isn't expecting Eddie to walk in and offer his help.

ao3 | masterlist

tags (join or edit here):

forevers: @hintsofhoney  @deanwanddamons @katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @jensengirl83 @superfanficnatural @wayward-dreamer @that-one-gay-girl @writercole @flamencodiva @elenavampire21

stranger things: @lukearsehemmings @mooffinss @rosecentury @alexxavicry

steve harrington: @hcloangcls @dixontardis @b-e-e-04

eddie munson: @wherezavery @thatkattdraws

[redrobin-detective]

I’ve been kind of brain dead for ideas lately but an old one that I was batting around the other day was, following Jack Drake’s death everyone was scrambling to figure out what to do with Tim. Bruce wanted to adopt him, Dana was going to take him when she was well enough, Dick probably threw his hat into the ring to give the kid options.

Now Tim has this grand scheme to circumvent all this by hiring an actor to portray a made-up uncle but he looks out at the city one night and is Tired. This city stole his peace, bits of his flesh, his friends and now his dad. Suddenly he doesn’t want to live there anymore. He makes a phone call and a few days later, he’s on a bus to Smallville to be fostered by Martha Kent.

Kon was a little surprised at the call but Martha didn’t hesitate to sign those papers. She’d seen the fallout of Tim when his mother died, if no one else would take care of Tim then she would. He arrives with a backpack full of clothes and a U-Haul of computer equipment which he sets up in the back guest room barely leaving room for a bed.

He goes to Smallville High with Conner, eats an early, homemade dinner by Ma who kisses his forehead before he Zetas back to Gotham for patrol. He’s still Robin, still fights and bleeds for Gotham. But he can’t live there, not right now. Bruce is doing his pouty hurt dad routine, Dick thinks he’s trying to make a move on Kon but really Tim is tired of the brutality of the city and wants some peace for once in his life. He Zetas back early in the morning, quietly knocks on Ma’s door so she knows he’s back and heads to bed.

His allergies give him hell in the country but he still insists on helping Kon with chores. Conner laughs at how badly he fumbles through livestock feeding and crop tending and starts working on ways to make it more efficient. He sleeps through class and spars out in the open fields and, when he’s feeling homesick, Kon will fly him real high and drop him and he can pretend like he’s just dived off a skyscraper. Martha reminds him to eat, to sleep, to wash behind his ears and stop looking at gruesome crime scene photos at the dinner table. Tim’s never had a happy, normal family situation. It unnerves him but it soothes him too as he works, really works, on some of his more self-destructive habits. For Ma’s sake. Martha knows this is only temporary, that Tim can’t, won’t, stay away from Gotham forever. But she drapes a blanket over his shoulder where he’s fallen asleep 5 minutes into a movie on the couch and brushes his hair out of his sleep deprived eyes. She loves Bruce like a second son but Tim is her baby now too and she’ll tear B to shreds if he doesn’t properly care for Tim when he returns.

Kon and Tim, who’d been kind of dancing around their feelings for years, are now in an equally strange dynamic of ‘are we brothers now? are you just a bud crashing indefinitely at my house? we come and go from Titans Tower together what does everyone THINK is happening???’ and settle for just doing nothing. They do stay up late on nights Tim isn’t in Gotham talking about bad tv shows and how lame school is and rocket ships and the latest supervillain scandal. As weird as the situation is, Tim looks happier and healthier than he has in ages. Plus it’s kinda rad to have a sleepover with your best friend every night. As far as he is concerned, Tim never has to step foot in Gotham again.

Clark comes back to the farm from a long space mission to find Batman’s latest sidekick typing up a storm typing on a computer with one hand and stirring soup with the other. “Sup,” Tim mumbles as he remains focused on both his tasks. “Sorry, guest room is mine now. I’d offer it up but it’s a pretty tight fit in there with all my gear.” And that’s how he found out his Mom may or may not have legally kidnapped Batman’s sorta maybe I guess not kid from under his nose and he’s Clark’s unofficial little brother. All he knows is Bruce is going to be a nightmare at the next League meeting.

[zipzapzopzoop]

There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Chapter 36: One Brother Short

A soft knock sounded on the door before it clicked open. Bud stepped in, a plate of apple slices and honey in hand.

“Franny? I brought your favorite. How are you feeling?” He paused upon hearing the gentle sound of laughter.

Across the room Franny stood silently, her back towards the old man. In front of her sat the Memory Scanner, softly playing a memory from only a few weeks prior…

It had been a long day, and she was feeling pretty drained. A good song had come on the radio, and Cornelius began to dance playfully. He was being goofy and singing off key, and Franny couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. Upon seeing her smile, he wore a big grin. 

“There’s my beautiful wife,” he teased and gently took her hands. They began to dance around the kitchen, laughing and swinging and playing and forgetting about everything else in the world. Nothing else mattered.

The scanner’s screen faded out as the memory came to an end, and a tear slipped down Franny’s face. Then another. And another. Her shoulders hitched and she began to sob quietly to herself.

“Oh dear,” Bud sat the plate aside and set a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m so worried about him,” Franny sobbed. “And now my brother’s gone, and I don’t know what to do-” 

“Woah, easy, easy… Sometimes my brother’s worries get the better of him. And when that happens, he takes a deep breath and tells himself ‘One thing at a time.’”

Franny sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I… don’t understand.”

Bud handed her a box of tissues. “In other words, if you take on all your thoughts at once, you’ll end up overwhelmed. Focus on right now. You’ve got your son safe. We’ve already gathered a great deal of the family. And we at least know what to look for. I mean, where are they going to hide a dinosaur? Underground?” He chuckled.

“Now, I may be an old man, and my brain’s long since become scrambled, but I’ve never lost my good judgment of character. Gaston, I’ve seen that man take on more explosions than a fireworks show on a minefield. He’s as tough as nails. And Cornelius… from the moment I first met him at that science fair, I knew he had a spark in him. He was smart as they come and clever as a whip! They don’t call him ‘The Father of the Future’ for nothing… He can handle himself. They both can. I know it.”

Franny cleaned away her tears and blew her nose, feeling a bit better. She mulled over the words and thought for a moment. She took on another look of concern suddenly. 

“What about Lucille? Will she be okay?”

Bud’s face fell a bit, but he seemed to pick back up. “Oh, she’s the strongest person in the entire world. She’ll pull through…”

Franny didn’t miss the worry behind his smile.

------------

“How could this happen?!”

Carl flinched away when the chair was thrown against the wall, smashing it to bits.

The spaceman ran a gloved hand through his hair, huffing with anger. He growled and threw another piece of furniture across the room. Carl always knew Art as one of the kindest and patient people he’s ever met. He’s never seen him so angry.

Buster whined and ducked out of the room with his tail between his legs. Lefty meanwhile continued dusting, seemingly unbothered. Even after Art picked up and threw a stool he was dusting, the octopus just blinked and moved to dust the next item.

“I need to go for a walk. Please excuse me,” Art growled, storming out and slamming the door shut behind him.

------------

Wilbur sat silently in the hall, just out of sight.

His hands trembled as he listened to his uncle tear that room apart. He hiccuped slightly, trying to keep himself from crying.`

‘No! Wilbur Robinson doesn’t cry!’ he scolded himself internally.

He knew he was already crying. There was no point.

He’d really gone and done it this time.

------------

Check out the chapter on my Archive!

[harry-on-broadway]

The Last Line: Part Two

Part Two

Word Count: 12.1K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: Uh, so it’s been a minute. Life got kind of busy and I had to put this on the back burner for a little bit, but it has been fun to step back into this world. Would love to hear what you think! 

***

The venue was stuffy, the floor was sticky, and the smoky air made her feel as if she’d traveled back in time, but the atmosphere made Penny feel alive.

It was a Wednesday night and she was spending the evening at The Echo where an emerging folk-rock band was playing a show. It was the first concert she had been to in a week and it was exactly the reminder she needed as to why she hadn’t quit her job. Darren had been in rare form recently, seemingly going out of his way to find problems with her stories and shoot down any pitch she made, relegating her to writing up stories from the wire, while the Google Doc of ideas she kept open at all times grew longer and longer. At least she had her concerts.

After making a couple of laps around the venue, mentally noting the size, makeup, and energy of the crowd for the review she’d be writing later that evening, she went back to the bar and ordered a drink. Seltzer with lime was always her go-to when she was working. It looked like she was drinking, but kept her sharp for the evening.

As she sipped her drink, she scanned the crowd looking for the other critics she usually saw on the scene. She’d noticed Mikael from the Times when she was waiting for her drink, and had spotted Angel at the coat check on her way in. It surprised Penny that they hadn’t made their way backstage yet. Critics were usually given a special waiting area where there were drinks, appetizers, and sometimes a chance to chat with whoever was performing that night ahead of the show.

Penny had tried that the first few times she’d been sent out on assignment, but stopped soon after. Maybe it was her relative inexperience compared to other critics, but she still hadn’t perfected the idea of separating the art from the artist and found it difficult to be impartial after getting to know someone – she’d either feel bad giving a negative review to a great person or, on one occasion, want to give a shittier than needed review to the asshole who tried to cop a feel. Regardless, her fellow critics would soon be taking their respective spots around the venue.

For venues like The Echo, Penny preferred to stand in the back of the room where she had an equally good view of the artist and crowd, all the better to set the scene for her readers. She scanned the room again as the opener took the stage, noting how the room had started to fill even more, until she spotted the last person she’d expected to see.

Harry.

He locked eyes with her and she froze, hoping he was looking at someone behind her. But that clearly wasn’t the case as Harry raised his glass to her from across the room. She mimicked the gesture, unsure of what else to do. She paused, waiting for something else, a mouthed word or a wave, but Harry simply turned back to face front. Leaving Penny to do the same.

Suddenly, she was filled with self-consciousness. Was it just her or was he looking at her? She could feel what she thought were his eyes fixed on her, but each time she turned to look at him, he was focued on the stage. The opener began playing and Penny, though she didn’t need to, tried to focus on taking notes to get her brain back in work mode. Five or six songs later – she couldn’t remember – the lights came up and the buzz of conversation returned. So had her anxiety over Harry. Feeling shaky, she went back to the bar for some water, taking a sip as she stepped off to the side.

“How are you doing?” a quiet voice asked, close to her ear, causing her to jump. “Shit,” Harry said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you’re good. It’s good,” Penny said, moving away from the bar. “I uh, didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she said, scrambling for words.

“I’ve had the tickets for a while now,” Harry replied. “Don’t worry, I’m not following you or anything,” he added quickly. He paused as Penny looked at him. “Um, did you get my email?” he asked. He was trying to keep his tone casual, but Penny could sense a self-consciousness to the question.

“I did.”

“Oh, good.” His brow twisted into a frown. “I wasn’t sure since you didn’t respond.”

“I didn’t think I needed to, seeing as we’re not friends and I have no reason to talk to you.”

“We’re talking now,” Harry said.

“Yeah, and, as I said, we have no reason to.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“What was that for?” Penny shot back.

“Nothing.”

“No, it was something. So go ahead.”

Harry sighed. “It’s common courtesy to reply to someone and accept the apology that they offer.”

“What if I don’t accept it?”

“You’re not accepting my apology?”

Penny shrugged. “You were kind of dick and what you said hurt me. I’m allowed to feel that way and not accept the apology.” She knew she was being stubborn and petulant for no good reason, but she dug her heels in anyway. “And this is also kind of insulting, you coming in here and telling me how I should do my job…again.”

“OK,” Harry said, defensively. “I’ve never told you how to do your job. I just said I didn’t like what you’d written. Or that you ignored my email. Which, if we’re airing it all out right now, I thought was kind of rude.”

“Oh my God, do you ever stop?” Penny yelled, causing heads to turn.

“Keep your voice down,” Harry muttered, sinking into himself, as he steered Penny away from the gathering crowd.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” They were standing across from each other and Penny had to crane her neck slightly to meet Harry’s eyes. His face was slightly flushed, from both the heat and his drink, and stray curls were poking out from underneath his cap. His brow and lips remained twisted into a scowl, and despite the intensity of his glare, there was a gentleness in his eyes. “Can you just leave me alone?” Penny asked, softer. “Despite what you probably think, I don’t want to fight you. I just want to watch the show and do my job.”

“You’re working tonight?” Harry asked, his own frosty demeanor cooling.

“Yeah. I’ve got to file a review bright and early tomorrow, so I just want to make it through the night without incident.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Harry said, turning to go back to where he had initially been standing. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked. She answered her own question with one look. A crowd had gathered where Harry had previously been standing, with several people on their phones, scouring the crowd for him. “Word travels fast, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a sigh as the lights flashed, signaling the start of the show. “See you later.”

“You can stay here,” Penny said. The small peace offering was the least she could do. “I mean, it looks a little calmer over here. If that would make this more enjoyable for you.”

Harry stared at her, as if he was trying to see if there was some sort of catch to her offer. “Alright. If that’s fine with you.” Penny nodded. “Thanks,” he said again. “I really appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See it’s not so hard to be polite, is it?”

“The offer only stands if you don’t talk to me,” Penny said quickly.  

“Roger that.”

The lights dimmed and Harry scooted closer to Penny, allowing other concert goers to pass by and get to their seats. “Sorry,” he whispered as he bumped her shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Penny whispered back, eyes facing forward.

As the band started to play, she tried to focus on the show, running through her mental list of notes she typically took during a show. There were the more technical ones. Questions of production value and ability, but also the less clinical aspects of the show that the average concert goer would want to know. What were people wearing? What was the overall vibe of the show? Did the band play the hits? Some special songs? But as she stood there listening, her thoughts kept wandering back to Harry.

Okkervil River was not the kind of band she pictured him listening to, but was he a secret fan? Was he scouting out something for his mysterious forthcoming record that she wasn’t supposed to know about? Penny always knew why she liked something and why she was in attendance, but the question that kept her going much of the time was why other audience members were there. And that question was only magnified with Harry.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him swaying along, the corners of his mouth gently turning upward as he watched the onstage action. He was obviously enjoying himself, another surprise.

The set was brief and after about 90 minutes the band left the stage and the lights came up.

“That was great,” Harry said.

“It really was. It was my first time seeing them and they set the bar very high.”

“It was your first time?”

“Yeah. Had you seen them before?”

Harry looked up at the ceiling, and it was clear that he was working on some sort of mental calculation. “I think this was my fourth time. Saw them a few times in London.”

“Oh, wow. Didn’t realize you were that big of a fan.”

Harry shrugged modestly. “I should probably be heading out,” he said, shifting on his feet as he watched the crowd start to head for the exits.

“I should be going too,” Penny said, looking in her bag to make sure her wallet, keys, and phone hadn’t been misplaced. “I need to get home and file this.”

“Where did you park?” Harry asked as they walked to the door.

“I didn’t park anywhere. I took an Uber,” Penny said. “I should probably call one now that I think about it.”

“Oh, I could give you a ride if you want.”

“Seriously?” Penny tried to hide her shock.

“Yeah. Consider it part of my ongoing apology tour since the email didn’t seem to work.”

“That’s lovely but I’m sure it’s out of your way.”

“It’s fine. I like night time drives anyways. They clear my head.”

“Harry, I don’t need this from you. I can just accept the apology and we can move on with our lives.”

Harry exhaled, sharply but without malice. “Has anyone ever told you how difficult you can be?”

Penny shot him a glare. “Difficult?”

“You yell at me in the restaurant, you refuse my apology, you refuse a ride home…stubborn as a mule.”

“Did you ever think I maybe didn’t want to get into a car with a strange man?”

“Did you ever think I maybe didn’t want to worry about you waiting around here alone?”

They were outside now, and Penny was thankful for the cool breeze that dulled the heat that had once again risen to her face. “Oh, well, that’s v-very kind of you,” she said, stumbling over her words. “But I do think it would be easiest if I just called an Uber.”

Harry rubbed his face. “OK, yeah, whatever.” Penny looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to leave. “The very least you can let me do is make sure you get into the car,” he said, making it clear that he wasn’t budging until she was on her way.

“Fine,” she said, punching in her location in the app. “Car should be here in about 15 minutes.”

“Why are you so insistent in your refusal to accept help from me?” Harry asked.

“Don’t get offended. It’s not just you, it’s all men.”

“OK, whatever, the question still stands.”

“I don’t think 15 minutes is enough time to unpack that,” Penny said with a grin. “Why were you so hostile towards me over 500 words that I wrote two years ago.”

“Fifteen minutes isn’t long enough to unpack that,” Harry replied with a smirk.

“Touché.”

“So…” Harry said after a moment, fighting against the awkward silence that had settled in between them. “Do you have any other concerts coming up?”

“Um…” Penny tried to think of her calendar. “I’m seeing Madison Cunningham and Andrew McMahon later this week and then this band called Talk to Plants next week. And then some friends and I have tickets to Queen later this month. That’s not work though, that’s just for fun.”

“Does it ever get boring going to so many concerts?”

Penny frowned. “Not boring per se but there are certain shows I get more excited for than others. But I try not to take it for granted. I know there are people who would kill to have this job. Do you have any shows coming up?” she asked, wanting to shift the subject away from her.

“Not really. I might try to see Ariana Grande soon but I’m just sort of playing it by ear. Not sure when I’ll be able to fit it in.”

“Is the new album keeping you busy then?” Penny’s eyes went wide as soon as the words were out her mouth. “Because I assume you’re making a new album? Since it’s coming up on two years after your first. And that seems to be a cycle most people like to follow.”

If Harry knew that she had been given inside information, he didn’t say anything, opting to keep the conversation rolling. “I’ve been writing and I’ve been in the studio but it will be a few months before you’ll need to sharpen your pitchfork for the review.”

“Oh, I don’t actually write for Pitchfork. I’m at The Moment,” Penny said. The joke was too easy.

“Well maybe you should make the move. Pitchfork seems more suitable for your demeanor.”

“What the fu–” Penny was cut off by a notification on her phone that her driver was approaching the curb.

“Get home safe,” Harry said, opening the door for Penny as the car idled next to them. “Let me know when you’re settled,” he added, gently shutting the door once Penny had situated herself inside.

Penny tried to ask what he meant by “suitable for her demeanor” but was cut off as the car pulled away. Putting Harry out of her mind, she settled into the backseat as the lights of the city flew by her. She opened up the Google Docs app on her phone and started drafting her review. A witty lede came to her rather quickly and the rest of the review flowed out of her after that. She’d have to clean it up before filing it to Darren, but that could wait until she was home. Her driver dropped her off at the entrance of her building, and she raced upstairs, quickly showering and throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt.

A cup of tea by her side, she sat on the couch and opened her laptop, pulling up the review she’d drafted in the car. She proofread it, adding some commas, fixing some spelling errors, and tweaking a few sentences so they flowed better. After a couple more read-throughs she felt satisfied, and shared the link with Darren, dropping him a Slack message as well. Sipping the warm beverage, she scanned her email, deleting some of the more useless messages and marking some to respond to when she logged on again in the morning. When she was finished, she went to close her laptop but hesitated.

Sighing, she knew what she needed to do and searching her inbox, she pulled up Harry’s apology email. Clicking on reply, she typed out a quick message – Made it home. Thanks for waiting with me. Hope you enjoyed the show.

She didn’t know what compelled her to do it, but it just felt right. She closed her computer and climbed into bed.

***

A chime signaling an email woke Harry from the light sleep he’d drifted off into. Ordinarily, he would have ignored it. Emails could almost always wait until morning. But for some reason, he rolled onto his side and lifted his phone from his nightstand. He squinted against the bright light coming from the device, and to make up for not wearing his glasses, and managed to make out the subject line: Re: An Apology.

“Fuck,” he said aloud to himself, scrambling to sit up and read whatever it was Penny had sent him.

It was only 13 words, arranged in the most perfunctory of phrases. No added emotion or extraneous details and punctuation. It was simple and straight to the point, but it knocked him out.

“Fuck,” he said louder, laying his head back against his pillow, phone clutched to his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but Penny Sanders was driving him out of his mind.

The next morning, he met Jeff and Tom at the base of Eaton Canyon. Harry always liked getting outdoors when he had the time, and both of his managers had been expressing interest in making more of an effort to get into nature, which had resulted in them setting up a weekly hike. Harry, usually the first to arrive, was last.  

“Big night, H?” Jeff said with a grin. “Assuming you’re late because you had to chase last night’s guest out.”

“Ha ha, Jeffrey,” Harry said tightly. “For your information, I didn’t sleep well. And before you go there, no, it wasn’t because of a hook up.”

“We’re just messing with you, H,” Jeff said, a little gentler. “Was something the matter? Do you feel OK?”

“No, everything’s fine. I was just keyed up from the concert,” Harry said as the three men started up the trail.

“Who’d you see again?” Jeff asked.

“Okkervil River.”

“Really?” Tom chimed in. “I think Penny was there last night.”

“Yeah, she was,” Harry said, trying to remain calm. “I actually ended up standing with her during the show.”

“Really?” Jeff said as he and Tom stopped on the path.

“Yes,” Harry said, turning around to face them. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Seeing as how you two can’t seem to be in a room with each other without incident it’s a little surprising,” Tom said with a laugh. “Should we be monitoring Twitter for any videos of the two of you duking it out?”

“You all aren’t funny,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “I have no problem being civil. Penny’s the one who has the problem with me.”

Jeff and Tom exchanged knowing glances behind his back as they pressed forward. For a few minutes the only noises between them were the crunch of sticks and gravel and the occasional grunt of exertion as they approached a particularly steep part of the trail. Harry was the first to break the silence.

“So, what’s the deal with Penny anyways?” he asked, keeping his eyes facing front.

“I mean she’s a journalist. She was with Variety before The Moment, but you already know all of that,” Tom said.

“Yeah, but like you’ve known her longer than that, right?” Harry asked, fishing for more information.

“Mmmhmm,” Tom said. “We lived in the same neighborhood growing up. I was honestly closer to her brother than her – we were the same year in school – but I was over at their house all the time. Penny used to write these little newsletters each week that she’d hand out to everyone on the block.” He chuckled. “It was pretty intense for an 11-year-old but she did the whole thing herself – she’d write reviews, op-eds, updates on neighborhood news. One time she reported on a feud between two houses on the block. It was clear she was meant to be a journalist.”

“You never mentioned you knew her,” Harry said.  

“I kind of forgot about her to be frank,” Tom said. “You know how it is…you leave home and suddenly 99% of your acquaintances and connections growing up just become people your mom updates you on during a phone call. ‘Mrs. Sanders sent over Penny’s senior portrait! She’s going to NYU!’ You know, that sort of thing.” He paused. “Reconnecting was actually a coincidence. My mom happened to send me one of her articles and then the next day I spotted her in the campus courtyard. I had no clue she was working around us, but it was great to see her.” He looked at Harry. “Why are you so interested?”

Harry gave an indifferent shrug. “Just making conversation.”

“I think Harry has a little crush,” Jeff said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I do not have a crush, Jeffrey!” Harry said, face turning red.

“Why are you so fixated on her then? NME, The Guardian, and Spin all gave you less than stellar reviews and you’re not hunting them down.”

“Would now be a good time to mention that Penny is single – according to my mom at least,” Tom chimed in.

“I hate you both,” Harry said, quickening his pace and leaving his companions in the dust.

He reached the top of the trail first and sat on a log, sipping the coffee Jeff had bought him, until Tom and Jeff caught up, sweaty and breathing heavily.

“I don’t have a ‘crush,’” Harry said without preamble, internally cringing at how juvenile the statement sounded. “I just…” He absentmindedly scratched behind his ear.

“Have a pathological need to have everyone like you?” Jeff finished with a smirk.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Harry wasn’t sure that that was entirely the truth, but in the moment, it felt like the path of least resistance.

“I know we’ve already covered this, but Penny’s actually really wonderful,” Tom said, as they took in the view, sipping their beverages. “She’s smart and funny as hell. She’s just had to deal with a lot of shit which is where the prickly exterior comes from. I think if you gave her a chance, you all would actually hit it off. And again, she’s single.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’d never stand a chance with her. She’d eat me alive.”

***

It had been a busy few weeks for Penny. She was filing stories daily, attending concerts upwards of four times a week, and had even had a couple of interviews scheduled, filling her days trailing musicians around LA to gather enough information to formulate a profile that would generate enough clicks for the website. Aside from Chloe, who she saw daily in the office, and a few college friends who’d synced up business trips to have one night with her in Los Angeles, her social life had been nonexistent. It was much preferred to fall asleep to sitcom reruns than feign interest in someone else’s problems over post-work drinks.

All of that made the text from Tom she received all the more welcome.

While she had established her own circle of friends in the city, it was nice to finally have someone from back home with her, and despite years of silence between them, they’d fallen right back into the rhythm they’d had as kids in the neighborhood.

He’d been having a busy time as well, and suggested they meet up for dinner after work one night. Penny had quickly agreed, saying she’d walk across to Full Stop’s offices at the end of the day. Edits for her latest piece – an interview with the CMO of a new music marketing agency  – hadn’t come in, and she’d received no response from Darren when she’d messaged him about staying late to work through the piece. Figuring he’d left for the night, she plotted her own exit, texting Tom that she’d be there in twenty.

But as she crossed the campus, her phone had rang with the unpleasant chime of Slack, a sound she was sure would activate her fight-or-flight response until her last day on Earth. It was Darren, asking her to take a look at his edits.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she said to herself as she opened the door to Full Stop.

It was her first time in the building and she was surprised to see that it looked like any other office. An open floor plan with wood floors and bright white walls, pendant lights hanging from the ceiling. Groups of desks were scattered around the room, and in addition to some scattered couches and conference rooms, there was a kitchen with what appeared to be a fully stocked fridge and bar. And there didn’t appear to be a soul in sight. Penny pulled out her phone, ready to text Tom when he came through the door.

“Hey!” he said cheerily. “I was just about to text you. I have a last minute client call. Are you OK waiting for half an hour? You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

“That works perfectly,” Penny said. “I actually just got some edits sent my way.”

“Great! Make yourself at home.”

Penny walked over to the table nearest the kitchen and put her bag down before raiding the fridge. She passed over the selection of beers and found herself a canned cocktail. She popped the tab and took a sip. It wasn’t great but it would do. She sat down at the table and opened the doc containing her story. She skimmed through Darren’s edits, shaking her head. Some of them were simple grammatical edits, but others were more complex suggestions that would require her to go back to the company’s publicist to set a follow-up call. Maybe they could do an email? She ran the charm on her necklace across the chain as she continued to read the notes. Darren’s edits would result in her rewriting significant sections, changing the angle of the piece. Thankfully, he’d given her until tomorrow afternoon to turn it around, but with nothing else to do, she figured there was no time like the present to get started.

She sent the email to the publicist and started making a list of all the things she’d need to do, and once that was complete, she began checking off the more minor changes. She was in the zone until the thunk of a bottle broke her concentration.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…” Harry said. “You know? From Casablanca?” he said as Penny stared at him blankly.

“I know. Your explanation isn’t needed.”

“Well, I thought it was since people usually pick up on it right away. My mistake.” He took a pull from his beer. “What are you working on?”

“A story.”

“Well, I figured that out.” He waited. “So you’re just going to ignore me?”

“I’m trying to work,” Penny said, looking up from her computer and taking a sip from her drink.

“Ah yes, you have someone’s hopes and dreams to crush. Who is it this week?”

“For the love of God will you please let that go?”

“No.”

“Well, I can’t wait for your next album. I’ll be sure to include details about how you act like a whiny manchild when someone has the audacity to offer a criticism instead of continuing to jerk you off like the entire industry has since 2010. I’m sure Twitter would love to learn more about how Mr. Treat People With Kindness has been verbally sparring with a female critic, in addition to following her around the city.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Harry said. “You’re the one in my manager’s office.”

“Because my friend invited me! Why are you here?”

“Jeff and Tommy are supposed to go and get drinks with me and I told them I’d meet them here but they had –”

“A last minute client meeting?” Penny finished.

“Yeah. So I’m stuck waiting until it’s over.”

“Can’t you wait somewhere else?”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be as fun.”

“Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t be there. And I can tell that having to deal with me really grinds your gears and it’s honestly kind of funny.”

Penny looked up from her computer. “Grinds my gears?”

Harry nodded. “It’s a saying.”

“I know,” Penny shot back. “I’m just confused as to why you’re saying it seeing as you’re not a senior citizen or a cartoon car in a Pixar film.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but quickly thought better of it, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. Penny turned her attention back to her computer but was distracted when Harry pulled up a chair next to her.

“Can I help you?” she asked as he leaned over her shoulder.

“So you’re not writing a review?” he asked.

“No, it’s a business story.”

“Hmm.”

Penny sighed. “It’s fine if you sit here, but I’m seriously going to need you to leave me alone. I really do need to get some work done.”

“Fine then.” Harry scooted his chair over a few inches and pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen in silence.

Penny didn’t know how much time had passed, but by the time she’d scheduled tomorrow’s follow-up, Tom, Tommy, Jeff, and someone she hadn’t seen before all emerged from a conference room laughing.

“Well, I guess that means we’re free now,” Harry said, standing up as Penny closed her laptop.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she muttered before turning her attention to Tom. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yep, just need a second,” he replied. “And actually, we were all talking…would you be up for joining those guys for dinner?” He pointed to Harry and the other managers. “We were all talking and since we were all heading out we thought we could do a group thing.”

Based on the way Harry was staring at her from across the room, Penny was pretty certain that he’d received the same news. “Um…” she hesitated.

“You won’t have to sit next to him, I promise,” Tom said quickly, sensing the fear that was holding her back. “But I understand if you’d want to reschedule.”

“No, it’s fine,” Penny said. “I know Harry’s going to be pretty ticked that I’m going so that will make it a little fun.”

Tom grimaced. “I’m so glad you all are getting along?”

“Something like that, right?” Penny said with a grin.

Tom gave her the name of the restaurant and once she’d punched the address into her GPS, she was on her way over. When she pulled into the valet line in front of the building, Harry was already standing there, head bowed over his phone. He cut his eyes to her as she approached him but said nothing. Silence is better than antagonism, I guess, Penny thought to herself. Soon, Tom, Jeff, and Tommy rolled up, and the hostess led them to a table in the back of the dimly lit restaurant.

Harry remained silent as they shuffled along, but Penny didn’t miss the way heads turned as they walked by, eyes piling onto the group, causing Harry to look down at the ground, brows knit tightly together. Penny could see some of the tension melt away once they were ensconced in the secluded booth, but she also didn’t miss how the other men let Harry shuffle in first before piling in after him, almost as if they were trying to shield him from the prying eyes. As much as she disliked Harry, she felt for him. To have constant attention from strangers on you…she didn’t know how he hadn’t crumbled under the pressure yet.

“Thank you,” she said as the waiter filled her water glass and handed her a menu. She skimmed the text, quickly deciding what she wanted to eat and turning her attention back to the group. Jeff and Tommy were laughing, passing a phone back and forth in front of Harry, who paid attention, but said nothing.

“How was your day?” Tom asked, breaking her moment of observation.

“Busy,” Penny said, taking a sip of water. “I finished up some calls for a story and then had to finish writing the story, and then in the background I’m trying to put together a pitch for something I want to write in a couple of months.”

“Oh, is this the TikTok story?”

“No.” Penny was still sensitive about Darren’s reaction to the piece, but tried not to give it away. “That was DOA when it got to my editor’s desk. This is something different.”

“That’s a shame,” Tom said. “We were actually just talking about this the other day and how we have no clue about TikTok. Like do we need to get our existing clients on there? What should they be doing? Should we be looking for new clients there? Would have been nice to read something about that.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Penny said with a short laugh.

“But tell me about this other piece.”

“I really want to profile the women of BLACKPINK.”

“Damn,” Tom said. “That would be good.”

“I know, right? They’re coming to LA in a few months and I really want to sit down with them while they’re here. So I need to make sure the pitch is rock solid.”

“I have faith in you, Penny,” Tom said, raising his glass in solidarity.

Their waiter returned and each person took their turn ordering and once the menus were collected Jeff turned his attention to the whole group.

“So, I think we need an icebreaker of sorts,” he said, drumming his fingers against the table.

“Yes,” Tommy chimed in. “And we have the perfect one.”

“Why do we need to play a game?” Harry griped from across the table. “We all know each other.”

“I mean I don’t know Penny that well,” Tommy said.

“Well then maybe she shouldn’t be here,” Harry shot back. “She did crash our dinner after all.”

Penny was done with him. “Tom, I thought you said I wouldn’t have to talk to him,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Harry mumbled.

“You know, a game sounds fun!” Tom interjected trying to keep the peace. “Why don’t you tell us the rules, Tommy.”

Tommy hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he should step in the line of fire. “Um, yeah. So it’s called ‘Best Of’ and it’s really simple. Someone says an album, and on the count of three everyone has to name their favorite song off of it.” He looked around tentatively. “I thought since we all like music that could be fun.”

Penny nodded. “It does sound fun. Who’s going first?”

“Why don’t you?” Jeff suggested, earning an eye roll from Harry.

“OK…,” Penny said thinking. There had to be some strategy to her pick. Something that wouldn’t make the men around her roll their eyes, but also something that said she was fun. Nothing too basic, but nothing to obscure either. “‘Led Zeppelin III,’” she said after a moment.

“Nice,” Tommy said. “Now think of a song in three, two, one…”

“Immigrant Song!”

“Celebration Day!”

“Tangerine!”

“Since I’ve Been Loving You!”

Their answers overlapped and they all grinned at each other’s choices.

“I wouldn’t have expected ‘Immigrant Song,’ from you, Penny,” Tommy said.

“No joke, it was one of my favorite songs as a kid. My dad is a pretty big Zeppelin fan and we used to listen to them in the car and I would ask to hear that song every day on the way to preschool.”

“Were you the coolest toddler there?” Jeff laughed.

“1000%.”

“H, do you want to add yours?” Jeff prompted.

“No, I’m good,” Harry said tersely.

“OK, then, while Harry pouts, would you like to toss out an album, Tommy?” Jeff asked.

“I’d love to Jeffrey,” Tommy said.

Penny tried to hide her smile, secretly pleased that she wasn’t the only one Harry copped an attitude with.

“Britney Spears, ‘In the Zone,’” Tommy finally said. “Three, two, one.”

“Me Against the Music!”

“Outrageous!”

“Toxic!”

Penny locked eyes with Harry across the table, shocked that they’d both named ‘Toxic.’

“Well, I guess I have to give you some credit,” she said, trying to thaw the ice between them. “That’s a great song.”

“It’s the only correct answer,” Harry said. “Not much to celebrate.”

“Well forgive me for trying,” Penny said. “Tom? Why don’t you take a turn.”

Tom named an album from the Stones and Jeff named a Chris Stapleton album and then it was Harry’s turn.

“Desperado,” he mumbled. “Go,” he added, not bothering to count down.

It was one of her favorites and she didn’t hesitate when she shouted out her answer. “Certain Kind Of Fool.”

She knew it wasn’t the lead single or one of the hits but she could remember exactly where she was when she first heard the song and it had touched her in that peculiar way that good music often does. You can’t explain how or why it makes you feel that way, the feeling is just there.

What did give her pause was that once again, Harry had the same exact answer as her. It hadn’t been surprising in the Britney round – anyone who didn’t pick Toxic had seriously questionable taste – but this was different. Did it mean something that Harry had also picked her special song?

“Wow, bold choice,” Tom said, Jeff and Tommy echoing his sentiment. They’d all said the title track instead. “Great minds must think alike, you two,” Tom laughed.

“Yeah,” Penny laughed. “Something like that.” Harry hadn’t said anything but he was staring at her, his lips twisted in an unreadable expression. She was about to say something else, but was thankfully interrupted by the arrival of everyone’s meals.

The game petered out as they dug into their plates, and the conversation steered more towards jobs and the industry. Penny figured the men would steer clear of talking business, not wanting the journalist in their midst to hear any trade secrets, but they spoke freely, intermixing stories and questions about work with personal anecdotes. Tommy and Jeff tossed questions Penny’s way, asking about where she lived, future plans, and favorite spots in LA. Harry was predictably silent.

It was clear he was still tuned into the conversation as his eyes darted between whoever was speaking, but he rarely smiled over the course of the meal and whenever Penny spoke he looked at her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t anger or hatred or disgust or any of the emotions he typically displayed when he was in her presence, but the neutrally blank stare was still jarring.  

He maintained this until the topic of conversation switched to Penny’s reporting.

“Penny’s trying to do a BLACKPINK profile in the next couple of months,” Tom said.

“Oh?” Jeff said. “That would be a huge get. Have you made any headway with their team?”

“Not yet,” Penny said. “It’s this delicate dance of needing to make sure my editor is on board before reaching out to the client so I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but I also need a pretty solid confirmation on the talent side to get my editor to say yes. It’s a vicious cycle and it’s made even harder by the fact that we’re not one of the major trades so sometimes people aren’t as willing to take a chance with us. Everyone wants the cover of Rolling Stone, not the front page of a newish website.”

“I get that,” Jeff said, nodding. “If you need help setting up the connection with their team, just give a shout. Between the three of us we might be able to help out some. Set the wheels in motion.”

“Thank you,” Penny replied, trying to mask her surprise and act like this was an everyday occurrence. “I’ll touch base with you all in the coming weeks.”

Jeff nodded as Harry opened his mouth for the first time since the game ended. “You don’t write profiles,” he said, brows crinkled in a way that Penny might have found endearing had it not been for his antagonistic personality.

“I mean not yet,” Penny said. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to work my way up to though,” she added feeling slightly defensive.

“So your editors are now letting you do this?” Harry prodded.  

“I mean, sort of,” Penny shifted in her seat, feeling her skin grow clammy with sweat. “They haven’t given me one yet, but I’m trying to be proactive. Work on profiles in addition to the other business reporting and reviews.”

“You’ve never done this, but you’re going to aim that high to start?”

“You’ve got to start somewhere and I can’t help it if my editors have given those assignments to someone else instead of me.”

“Well, did you ever think maybe they don’t give you those stories because you’re not good enough.”

With his statement, it felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Jeff, Tom, and Tommy, all looked at each other, first visibly recoiling from the harshness of Harry's words, then seemingly waiting for the explosion from Penny that was sure to follow the snide remark.

“I actually do think that on a daily basis, so as much as you think that might hurt me, it doesn’t,” Penny said. There was a certain vulnerability in admitting that, but it made her feel powerful. If she owned it, he couldn’t use it against her. She checked the time on her phone. “I should actually start heading out.” Her companions were silent as she gathered her things.

“Let me know how much I owe you and I’ll send something over on Venmo,” she said to Tom, who just nodded with a sad smile on his face.

“Goodnight guys, thanks for letting me crash,” Penny said to the rest of the table. She headed towards the door to collect her car from the valet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, H?” Jeff said when he was sure Penny had left the restaurant.

Harry shrugged. “Dunno.”

“You’re being such an asshole. Did something happen between you all? At Tom’s party?”

Harry knew exactly what was wrong with him, but he’d never admit it out loud. Not even to his closest friends and confidants. “It’s just stress, I’ve told you before,” he deflected.

“Well go to a spa, take another hike, get laid, I don’t care,” Jeff said. “But this attitude needs to go.”

Harry knew Jeff meant well but his words felt like a slap in the face and he hated how accurate they were. He wasn’t himself and it didn’t feel good to know that his friends were also feeling the brunt of his anger and frustration.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I’m just going to go,” he said quietly as he walked towards the exit.

“Am I the only one who thinks those two need to fuck?” Tommy asked, when Harry was out of earshot.

“No,” Jeff and Tom replied in unison.

***

Penny was still waiting for the valet to return her car when Harry ambled up beside her. Catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eyes, she swiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of any evidence of tears. When Harry reached her, he stood next to her in silence.

“Here,” he said after a moment, offering Penny what appeared to be a napkin from the dinner table. “It’s probably better than your hand.”

“I don’t need it,” Penny said. Realistically, she did need it as her eyes were still wet and she knew her nose would start to drip momentarily, but she didn’t want to accept anything from Harry.

“Just take it,” he said. “You need it.”

“Oh gee, thanks. What a compliment.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to help.”

“Is this like some fetish you have? Treat me like shit and then swoop in with some chivalrous act to seduce me? Because I’ve got news for you pal, it’s not working.”

“Why are you so fixated on me picking you up? First at Tom’s party, now here? I hate to break it to you but I’m not into you like that.”

Penny looked him in the eye for the first time since he’d stood next to her. “What did I do to you?” she asked. “I get that you’re mad about the review and you’re entitled to feel that way, but why do you keep having to come after me? Just leave me be and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Until I release my next album.”

“Well you may have bullied me out of my job by that point so you’ll have nothing to worry about,” Penny said as the valet finally arrived with her car. “Have a good night.”

Harry stood there, stunned as Penny slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the parking lot. Sure, he was frustrated with her and he knew exactly why.

His heart had started pounding, when he saw her in the office that night. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since her post-concert email, but his day brightened the second he saw her sitting there, only to dim when she’d been so cold. If she hated him, two could certainly play that game.

But even with his disappointment, he didn’t think he could bear knowing that he was responsible for her feeling like this. He wasn’t sure if their paths would cross again, but if they did, and he kind of hoped they would, he would try to be better.

***

“So I’ve got some bad news,” Tom said to Penny a few weeks later.

She knew something was up. No one ever called their friends on a weekday afternoon with good news.

“Lay it on me Skogs.”

“I can’t go to the concert tonight.”

“What?” Penny was genuinely disappointed. She’d been looking forward to seeing Hayley Williams with Tom, a tribute to their teenage obsession with Paramore.

“Yeah, I have a late night here at work and I’m not feeling super great either so…”

“I understand,” Penny said sympathetically. “I’m just really bummed out.”

“I knew you would be,” Tom said.

“Do you know of anyone who wants your ticket?” Penny asked, already combing her brain to find a last-minute replacement she could drag to the show in Tom’s place.

“About that,” Tom said. “I have someone who is interested.”

“Who?”

“Harry.”

Fuck, Penny mouthed, thinking her thought was silent until she heard Tom chuckle and say “Don’t sound so excited.”

“Tom, it would be one thing if it was general admission. We wouldn’t have to interact. But I’m going to have to sit next to him. For two hours.”

“So don’t talk to him! I’ll give him the ticket. You all arrive separately, get there right before it starts, the lights go down, you don’t have to interact. Easy!”

“But he’s going to be right there and that’s just…”

“Penny, he really wants to go so I think he’ll be on his best behavior tonight.”

“You always say that and then I end up crying.”

Tom sighed. “If you’d really be that upset, I’ll tell him the ticket is claimed.”

Penny considered her options. Maybe she could get some sort of payback if he was forced to be with her. “It’s fine. He can have it.”

“Thank you, Penny. Are you OK if I give him your number? In case he needs to find you or something?”

“Uhh…sure.” Penny wasn’t thrilled about Harry having another way to harass her, but figured that he probably wouldn’t go out of his way to irritate her.

“Great, I’ll text him now.” Tom paused. “And I’ll buy you a drink or dinner or something for this.”

“Get ready, Tom, I have expensive taste.”

She ended the call, the sound of him laughing still echoing in her ears, when Chloe’s eyes found hers from over the barrier across their desks.

“Did Tom cancel? If so, I’ll buy the ticket off of him.” Chloe, though not a huge music fan, was always happy to be Penny’s plus one to a show if she needed it.

“He did,” Penny said. “But unfortunately it’s been claimed. By Harry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not so bad,” Chloe said, shrugging.

“Not so bad? We’ve never had a conversation that ended on a pleasant note.”

“What about after the Okkervil River show? When he waited with you? And you even sent him a thank you note.”

“That was…different. I think he might have been ill. Or suffering from recent head trauma.”

“Sure.” Chloe smirked as she sank back in her seat.

“What does that mean?” Penny said, scoffing with disbelief.

“It means I think there might be something between you all.”

“Mutual hatred?”

“That’s turning into loooooovvvveee.” Chloe extended the last word as she swirled around in her desk chair.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Penny said, causing Chloe to perk up. “Maybe you’re that one that’s ill or suffering from head trauma.”

Chloe deflated. “I’m just saying he seems interested.”

“In making my life a living hell.”

“It’s the old playground thing. He doesn’t know how to say he likes you so he just picks on you.”

“I thought we were trying to eliminate that mentality from children. That’s not the foundation of a healthy relationship.”

“Lecturing me on relationships? Oh, that’s rich,” Chloe said laughing. “How long has this dry spell been?” Penny opened her mouth to respond but Chloe beat her to it. “Fourteen months?”

Penny had to hand it to her. She did have a point.

Penny had dated throughout high school and college and had had several serious boyfriends, but no one long term since she’d moved to Los Angeles and started work. Her longest relationship since then had been with the vibrator in her bedside drawer. All of the dates she went on were the same and they all exhausted her.

It was always a case of an aspiring musician seeing that she worked as a journalist, resulting in a date that was more of a networking event, with the guy either trying to pawn his demo off on her or spending about three hours mansplaining something about music. On the rare occasion a date did lead to sex, she’d find that her partner more often than not oversold his abilities in the bedroom, leaving Penny tired, unsatisfied, and a little sad.

“I’m doing just fine, thank you,” Penny said.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Chloe said, a little more gently. “You can use him for what you want and move on.”

“But that’s the thing. I don’t like him,” Penny said. “End of story.”

“Penny, can we chat in my office,” Darren called from across the newsroom.

“Fuck,” she huffed.

“Suddenly Harry doesn’t seem so bad does he?” Chloe said, with a knowing grin.

“No comment,” Penny shot back as she picked up her phone and laptop and headed into Darren’s office.

“Should I close the door?” she asked.

“Sure,” Darren said. “I wanted to talk to you about your pitch,” he said when she’d sat down on the chair across from him.

“Oh?” Penny tried not to sound, or feel, too hopeful. She’d submitted her pitch for a potential BLACKPINK profile soon after her dinner with Tom and the rest of the Full Stop team. Jeff had kept his word and put her in touch with the group's publicist, who was receptive to the idea of a profile.

“We’re going to pass,” Darren said, cutting right to the chase.

Penny felt disappointment wash over her. “Oh. Was there any particular reason?”

“The pitch needed some work. I couldn’t see what the point of it was. On any other story, it’s fine to try it out if the pitch isn’t all the way there, but with a profile with a major star, if we end up having to cut it if it’s in bad shape, that burns a bridge with talent and we can’t have that.”

Penny desperately wanted to point out that not publishing any story where a source sat for an interview burned a bridge – who wanted to waste time talking to a reporter who never followed through on their promises? – but felt like this might not be the time.

“Do you have any notes on how I could improve?” she asked instead.

“Eh,” Darren said, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. “Just try again, you’ll figure it out eventually.

Penny, once again, bit back her inner commentary. As her editor, it was Darren’s job to provide her with guidance on how she could become better, but “you’ll figure it out” was his standard response, which led to little improvement on Penny’s side.

“Got it,” she said, nodding. “Do you know who’s getting the profile?”

“Chris pitched one on John Mayer so we’re going with that.”

“Oh nice.” It was anything but nice. Chris was a recent hire who’d not done much to prove himself and the fact that he had been granted this privilege infuriated her. “Do you want to chat about anything else?”

“Not really,” Darren said. “We’re coming up on earnings season, so just be ready to write up those earnings reports. Maybe think of a couple of quick hits we could do based on results. Get on the phone with some analysts. Same as you usually do.”

Same as she usually did. That was the problem. She wanted to challenge herself, try new things, grow as a professional, but any time she made an attempt to do so fate, or more realistically Darren, pushed her down again.

“Great,” she said, plastering a smile that could have been mistaken for a grimace. “I’ll get started.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Darren said, glancing at her before quickly looking back at his computer screen.

When she returned to her desk, Chloe was stationed in one of the call booths, likely on a source call, phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she typed furiously. Penny pulled open her web browser, glancing at her email, before pulling up the earnings calendar to start working on some story ideas. After a few minutes, she pulled up the major trades, as she did every day, and scoured their homepages for any breaking news. Rolling Stone had nothing new, but Billboard had just published a new feature: a piece on the rise of TikTok in the music industry.

This wasn’t the first time she’d been scooped by another publication, but it didn’t hurt any less. She sighed and stood up to make a cup of coffee in the breakroom.

***

“See you tomorrow,” Penny called to Chloe and the remaining staffers as she pushed her chair in and walked to the exit.

“Have fun,” Chloe said with an exaggerated wink. “Make good choices!”

Penny climbed into her car and plugged in her phone, pulling up a Top 40 playlist that she figured would make her bad mood dissipate. She should be more excited at this point. She’d been wanting to see Hayley Williams forever and wasn’t going to let Darren, her job, or Harry ruin that for her. She easily found parking in a nearby garage and walked into the venue, grabbing a drink for herself before finding her seat.

To her surprise Harry was already sitting there.

“Hi,” he said, standing up to let her into the seat next to him.

“Hi,” Penny said, tentatively, trying to read the situation. What kind of mood was he in? He didn’t seem as surly as he had been at dinner, but he didn’t appear overly outgoing either. “How are you?” she asked.

“Good.” Harry said, looking at her. “Uh, how are you?” he asked back after a moment, almost as if he realized returning the question was polite.

“Good,” Penny said.

She looked out in front of her. They were seated in the lower bowl of the arena and they watched the general admission section fill up in silence for a moment.

“I never apologized for dinner,” Harry said after a moment. “So...sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t. I should know better.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” Penny sipped her drink. “I have to admit I was surprised when Tom said you wanted to come.”

“Oh?” Harry turned toward her. He was wearing a denim cap and his wispy curls poked out from underneath it. There was a divot between his well-groomed brows as he looked at her questioningly.

“Yeah,” Penny said. “First, I was just surprised that you’d want to be in the same room as me and then I just didn’t think you were a Hayley fan.”

“Judging my music taste?” Harry said, a small grin on his face.

“No, not necessarily. It’s just clear you’re a fan of the classics and I didn’t think pop punk would be anywhere near your radar.”

“Well, I’m a man of multitudes.”

“Clearly.”

Harry snickered and Penny smiled, a real genuine smile for the first time that day.

“Tom said you all have seen her a couple of times?” Harry prompted, keeping the conversation flowing steadily.

“I went to a few Paramore shows with him and my brother – they’re the ones that introduced me to their music – and continued going even after I moved away.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said. “It’s always fun to have comfort artists like that.”

“It is,” Penny said. There was another beat of silence, before Penny changed topics. “Uh…how was your day?”

“It was fine,” Harry said, a little caught off guard.

“I don’t mean to be nosy, but I’m always just so curious as to how musicians fill their time when they’re not touring. Like clearly some people like to be in the studio at all times, but then others are less structured. I think it’s so interesting because you hear how people work, but there’s no clear formula as to how to make a good record. You know? Like some good ones were churned out and others have to marinate…sorry I’m rambling now.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re good. I do have a lot of time to fill when I’m not working.” He plucked his lip thoughtfully. “I took a walk today, did a little bit of writing. I had a call with the team about some…stuff…ate breakfast, ate lunch, picked up a new book at the bookstore.” He shrugged. “Nothing too exciting.”

“It’s interesting,” Penny said. She really wanted to ask him about his new album. Ever since her conversation with Tom in the parking garage weeks ago. She’d been keeping a lookout for any announcements about the forthcoming record. Breaking news like that would be huge, and while she had a firm stance on not mixing personal relationships with business, Harry was nothing to her. If he told her and she happened to let the news slip to Darren…what was the harm in that?

“I’m probably going to be heading into the studio some more,” Harry continued. “I have to start finalizing everything.”

“Oh, cool. Are you aiming for a release this year?”

Harry shrugged. “That’s the plan.”

The lights started to dim as the opener came on stage, effectively ending their conversation. When the set was over, Harry rose from his seat.

“Do you want another drink?” he asked.

“Uh, sure. Just a bottle of water.” Penny said.

Harry nodded, and a few minutes later, he was back at her side, two bottles of water in hand, just as the intro to the main show began.

“Thanks,” Penny said, leaning into him so he could hear over the thundering base.

“No problem,” Harry said, straining to be heard over the noise.

When Hayley Williams took the stage, Penny was transfixed and lost track of the fact that it was Harry beside her. She bopped along to the music and sang along, cheering especially loudly when the opening notes of her favorite song began. Realizing she wasn’t alone, she looked over at Harry to shoot him an apologetic glance, but found him grinning at her enthusiasm. The show was over far too quickly for Penny’s lighting and when the lights came up, she was sad at the prospect of having to head home.

“Well, that was fun,” she said, turning to Harry. “Thanks for hanging out.”

“Yeah, this was great.”

“I’m trying to decide if I should just wait here for things to empty out or if I should go now. I guess there’s going to be traffic either way.

“Want to grab a drink?” Harry asked.

He looked calm and collected but Penny could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him as he chewed at his lip and picked the skin around his cuticles.

“Uh…” she hesitated.

“I’ve been on my best behavior and that will continue. I promise I won’t antagonize you,” he said, still picking at his fingers.

“I’m not falling for this again,” Penny said with a bitter laugh. “We’ve pressed our luck enough tonight.”

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because this is me trying to be a better person,” Harry said. There was a forlorn note to his voice, almost as if he was scared to admit this to her. “I’m sorry, like actually truly sorry, and I just want to show you.”

Penny considered his offer. He did sound sincere and genuine. “One drink,” she said. “And I pick the bar.”

“Deal.” Harry said. “Name the place and I’ll meet you there.”

Penny named a quaint beer garden a few blocks away and Harry added the address to his Maps app, waving farewell as they parted to head to their respective cars. He trailed Penny for most of the drive and pulled into a spot next to hers, locking his car with a beep.

“This place is quiet,” he said, looking at the half empty parking lot.

“That’s why I like it. It’s great for source meetings, dates, all sorts of things.”

“Do you go on a lot of those?”

“Source calls?”

“No, dates,” Harry said, as if his question had been obvious.

“Occasionally. What about you?”

“Occasionally.”

“OK then,” Penny said, stepping through the door as Harry opened it for her.

They found a secluded table, and Harry offered to get some drinks from the bar: neat tequila for him and a vodka tonic for Penny. He was back a few moments later, drinks in hand.

“Cheers,” he said, tapping his glass against Penny’s before taking a sip.

“Cheers,” she replied.

“So why journalism?”

“Oh, wow, you are really jumping into things here,” Penny said with a nervous laugh.

“It’s just something that I’ve been thinking about.”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” Penny looked at Harry with suspicion. “Why?”

“No, shit. I haven’t been thinking about you. Well, not in that way. But like, I’ve been going back and reading some of your stuff.”

“Why? Are you going to give me some more…notes?”

“God no. I just wanted to see what else you’ve worked on and it’s interesting. And I just…” he trailed off looking into space. “Just wanted to know how you ended up here.”

“Oh, um. I don’t think it’s that interesting.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve always liked writing,” Penny began. “But I was never any good at making things up. You know like characters and settings, but when you had all of the players in place and I just had to come up with the facts and occasionally my opinions…I loved that. And I was also nosy, so that was the perfect storm.”

“Was?”

“I mean, I still am, but I don’t want to be an investigative reporter anymore. Sniffing out the drama of my neighborhood was fun when I was ten, but I don’t really want to sniff out corruption in the entertainment industry.”

“You’d stay busy.”

“Yeah,” Penny said slowly. “Not sure I’d last long doing that. But talking about music…that I could do forever.”

“Why music?” Harry pressed. His eyebrows did that wrinkly thing again, like he was concentrating really hard. “You could have picked anything.”

“I just always liked it,” Penny said. She’d honestly never thought this much about why she picked her chosen field. “My dad is big into music. Not professionally or anything. He likes to play guitar and just has a massive collection of vinyls and CDs. He would always play stuff for us and tell us about the history behind it.”

“Zeppelin on the way to preschool,” Harry said with a grin.

“You remembered,” Penny said with a laugh.

“Paints a funny picture.”

“When I was like five, maybe six, I told my dad I didn’t like rock music anymore because there were no girls and for the next two weeks our morning music was all the ladies of rock. Stevie, Joan, Bonnie, Heart. He always made sure I had what I needed to hear.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said.

“It was. I –” Penny stopped herself, unsure if she should continue. “School was sometimes hard for me. I was really into more creative stuff but we lived in a big sports town so there weren’t a lot of opportunities to…connect with people who had similar interests. But my dad was always the person I knew I could talk to about music. And he encouraged me to follow my passions. He would always tell me that one day I’d end up with a bunch of friends that I could talk music with and now I do.”

“You do,” Harry said softly.

“I do.” Penny cleared her throat, unsure of where this sudden surge of emotion came from. “What about you? How’d you end up here? Well, I know that, but what sparked your interest in music?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my journey to stardom on The X-Factor?” Harry deadpanned.

Penny snickered. “I think I’ve heard that story once, or twice.”

“Or ten times?” Harry shook his head. “It was a similar thing. My parents really led me to it. I listened to music a lot with them. Started performing in school pageants. Had a band with friends. I just realized I liked it and my mom really encouraged me to get out there.”

“It’s funny how parents really do know what’s best for you.”

“Shh, we can’t let them know that,” Harry said with a conspiratorial giggle. “Is it hard?” Harry asked, suddenly changing course. “Doing your job? Writing?”

“For me, the writing itself is the fun part. When I’ve finished my interviews and have a blank page in front of me and piece it all together…nothing matches that feeling. The hard part is what comes after. Editing, reader comments…but I’m sure you get that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry deadpanned.

Penny rolled her eyes. “OK, funny guy. What about you? Do you like the writing process?”

“Hey hey hey I’m not done asking the questions!”

“My mistake, I didn’t realize this was an interview.”

Harry grinned. “Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Ha!” Penny barked a laugh. “That’s cute but you wouldn’t last one week in a newsroom.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve been fixated on one shitty review for two years. Working in the newsroom, with my editor specifically, is like getting a bad review every single day. You wouldn’t be able to handle that much criticism. Your head would explode.”

“Are you familiar with Twitter?”

Penny snorted. “OK, I’ll give you that.” She eyed him from across the table. “The point is journalism’s not easy. Everyone seems to think they can do it, but few actually can.”

“And you’re one of the few?”

“I’d like to think I am.” Harry nodded, eyes locked on Penny. She felt her face grow hot under his gaze, not from anger, but from something else. “What?” She asked with a breathless laugh after a moment. “Was it something I said?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “No, I just…nevermind.”

“OK…”

“I should be heading home,” Harry said abruptly. “Early morning and everything.”

He said it as if he’d already mentioned it but Penny had no recollection of it in their conversations and was caught off guard by the suddenness of it.

“Oh, yeah I guess I should head out too.” She fished around in her bag for her wallet

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, gently grabbing her wrist. “It’s on me. No arguing.”

“Well, I’ll have to get the next one.” Penny didn’t know why she said that. There was no indication that there would be a next time, as she was pretty sure Harry still hated her. But throughout the evening, she’d felt her own animosity towards him cool.

“Next one?”

“I didn’t mean anything by —” Penny stammered.

“Name the time and place and I’ll be there,” Harry said, cutting her off.

“Oh, um, yeah I’ll look at my calendar.”

When their bill was sured up, they left the bar, Harry trailing behind Penny before opening the door and motioning her through ahead of him. Penny didn’t know what else to say and instead focused her attention on finding her keys and unlocking her car.

“So, I guess just let me know if you want to do this again sometime. It was fun,” Harry said, cursing himself for repeating exactly what they’d just said inside.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely let you know.”

“And, again, I’m sorry about everything.”

“Apology accepted.” Penny meant it this time,

“Right, well, get home safe,” Harry said, clearing his throat.

“You too.”

Harry nodded as Penny slid in behind the wheel placing her bag on the passenger seat and her key in the ignition. Harry remained outside his car, watching her. She turned the key and eased out of the parking space, offering Harry a gentle wave before turning out of the lot.

Harry leaned against his car, his gaze not moving from Penny’s vehicle as it drove off. When he couldn’t see it anymore he sighed, then pulled his cap off and ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t know what came over him in there. They’d been having a decent time — or so he thought — and he’d had to go and ruin it. He hadn’t missed the look of hurt that briefly flashed through Penny’s eyes when he said he needed to get home, which was an utterly stupid thing for him to say. What was he going to do at home? Sit in front of the TV mindlessly watching whatever sitcom he could find? Lay in bed and pretend to sleep?

The one glimmer of hope was Penny’s parting words — “I’ll have to get the next one.” The promise of a “next one” left him strangely optimistic. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way but this night with her was the best he’d had in awhile. Until he fucked it up.

“Are you Harry Styles?”

The question pulled him back to the present. There were two women — maybe college age — looking at him expectantly, phones in hand.

“Yeah, I am,” he said.

“Can we get a picture?” the one asked.

“Sure.” They moved to stand on either side of Harry, smiling wide as he offered a thumbs up and a closed lipped grin in return.

“Thanks,” they said, heading back toward the bar. Harry knew it would be a matter of minutes before that picture hit Twitter or Instagram or wherever, which was probably his cue to leave.

He piled into his car and before he was able to turn the key, his phone pinged.

Made it home — surprisingly little traffic, the text from Penny read. Thanks again for the drink

Thanks again for the ticket, Harry replied as fast as his fingers could move.

Three dots appeared on the screen. Harry held his breath.

I meant what I said about that next time, Penny’s message read. If you’re free.

Harry’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but he most definitely had time to see Penny again.

Let me check my schedule for the next few weeks, he wrote. I think I have a free night.

He waited a few more minutes but there were no more messages from Penny. A heaviness filled his chest, but he reminded himself that this was a start. He had a lot to make up for, but things were moving in the right direction.

***

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[unofficialsapphire]

Hi to Mistymxxn, thank you for your comment. 🩵

Chapter 5: Reality

Silence.. Darkness.. is something you could describe in the state you were in. You couldn't speak. You feel nothing. You hear nothing. You see nothing. Just alone in this darkness in silence.

For like eternity, you finally felt something, your fingers moving and then nothing.

For some quiet time, you feel it again. Your fingers are moving, this time, you focus on moving it with all your might making you flutter your eyes slightly open. You were fighting your body from pulling you towards the darkness.

Eyes open... closes... open... There was a sound. You couldn't make out the sound around you. Unfamiliar faces were around you but you couldn't comprehend what's happening. They were talking but nothing could reach out to you.

"Y/n? y/n? can you hear me?" you were looking at a black with purple tips haired girl it seems like she was talking to you but you couldn't grasp her words as if there's a barrier that stops your brain from registering her words.

You stare at her blankly before dozing off in the darkness.

The girl just sigh, concern laced in her purple eyes. "Is she going to be alright Shinobu-san?" asked the little girl who lives in the butterfly mansion. "Yes sumi-san, the medicine is working well, sooner she will regain her consciousness again" Shinobu assured the little girl. You and the three little girls were close, it hurts them to see you in this state.

Later that day, You woke up to the sound of your surrounding " y/n-san is awake, y/n is awake" You saw three little girls around you, they were beaming at you but you still couldn't register what they were saying. You were laying down, you couldn't even lift your arms it feel numb. You tried talking but you couldn't do so.

Someone entered to your room, it was the same girl you saw earlier, "y/n-san, how are you feeling?" You heard her loud and clear but why couldn't you answer? "

Shinobu-san is she okay?" asked the little girl, "y/n is a little bit disoriented right now, she just woke up from a coma, it usually happens after waking up from the trauma" She tried to explain to them. All the girls nodded at her words, "Why don't you let Y/n rest so she will get better soon?" she gently ushered the girls outside before returning back to you.

"alright Y/n-san, we're going to do some tests, is it alright? She gently smiled at you "Look at my finger and follow them" You couldn't make out what she was saying, she was raising her finger but you didn't know what she wanted you to do. She was moving her fingers but you were just looking at her not reacting. She tried squeezing your hand for any response but she received none. She was about to pull her hand when she felt the tiniest squeeze. A response. She smiled at you. "I'll get you back on your feet whatever it takes." Before leaving you.

A girl entered the room to checked on you, she was giving you medicine through your IV. Though you were just looking at her not saying a word. She sigh, sitting beside your bed, "I hope you get better soon y/n, we missed you"

Days have passed and you are recovering. Slowly but surely. Though your mind would be clouded but from time to time you'll gain some senses. Some girls you don't know often visit you, though they didn't bother you so you didn't care if they're around.

Girls were giggling around you talking some random things when you came to your senses. "Where am I?!" You suddenly spoke, your voice is raspy. Probably from dehydration. "Y/n, y/n you're here in the butterfly estate" one of the girls said. They were looking at you, shocked that you finally said something. "No. No..." You were getting up from the bed you were laying to. You didn't know where you were. "I need to go." You tried to scramble but they were blocking you. "But Y/n-san, Shinobu-san said you should rest first." You couldn't understand what they were saying. You needed to get out of here. Get to Mui. To your lover. "Mui.. Mui" you were mumbling his name under your breath. You successfully walk past them but you were bumped into someone a yellow with red tip haired boy. "Woah there! Where are you going Y/n?" He holds your shoulder to balance you up, You brush his hands off and continue to find your way out. "Call Kocho" He yelled out. Everything is unfamiliar. You were looking around as if to find the answer. He went after you trying to calm you down "no no. He needs me. I ... I need to go" you utter, trying to pull your arms from his hold. "He's ... He's hurt. Let me go" you were too weak against his hold but you were stubborn trying to fight against him. "Shhh no one's hurt. It's okay. You're okay." The guy tried to assure you. You Froze.. His words.. You heard that before..

"shhh it's okay. You're okay love..he's gone"

"no no nooo. Mui.. my.. lover.. He.. he's hurt.. he needs me.. " he was bewildered with your words. You were able to escape from his grasp too shock that you know his fellow hashira's name, let alone being his lover. After all, the Mui he knows is not sociable. You were able to run outside, gasping as you were running out of breath and energy. You look around to see there's no road or highway. "Where am I" you exasperated, desperately looking for your way, tears were building up in your eyes, it was night time and you couldn't see clearly there was no light. You ran past the trees, you were slowing down as you reached your limit. You were panting as you bend down to catch your breath.

You heard the snapping sound of the woods breaking, someone is approaching you slowly but you couldn't make out the face, you heard a low growl coming from it making you shriek as it launched at you, you were immediately pushed aside as someone leap behind you, slashing the head in front of you faster than you could ever blink making you shriek louder. "You killed him" you yelled backing away from the yellow to red tip haired boy. He chuckled, "I killed demons Y/n-san, that's what we do" Demons?! What in the world... he tried offering his hand for you to grab it but you shriek and back away more. You just witness murder. The boy flinched at your scream, he didn't expect you to act that way. Shinobu arrived right away and injected you with something. It made you slowly loses your consciousness.

Rengoku carried you in his arms as he and shinobu ran back to the butterfly estate. With your weakened state they were shocked that you managed to run really far from the estate.

"waking up from a coma usually they are.... disoriented, confused or anxious?" Shinobu tried to explain to him. He nodded at her words as he gently laid you on your bed.

You woke up and looked around and saw the boy sitting across your bed. "Y/n you need to rest. You're still healing" he said. "You killed someone" you look at him anxiously, back away further. He sighs, "that's a demon and we slay demon. That's what we do. To provide protection" he tried to explain. "We??!!" "Don't involve me in this mister. You pushed me and slashed him by yourself" you argued, you ain't going to jail by someone's doing.

"y/n.. y/n.. listen to me, I'm a demon slayer and you are also a demon slayer. Our job is to protect people from harm. We slay those demons"

Shinobu came in listening to your conversations. She was looking at you intently, observing your behaviour.

"you're delusional! There's no such thing as demons. And me? Being a slayer, I've never held a sword before?!"

"I yearn for the day to live where there's no demon exists in this world" Shinobu spoke softly. "It seems you don't remember what happened Y/n" she continued, "what? No. I.. I know what happened. I went to my lover's estate and... and then there were intruders... A burglar.. he.. he had a knife and was hurting them... I... I tried saving them. I got involved but I was.... too weak.. He got me.. He smashes my head and... And" You couldn't continue.. you didn't get to apologize to Yuichiro for taking out your anger on him. You didn't make up with Mui.. you started to cry.. your memories are still fresh and it's painful to even think about it.

Both of the hashira's eyes soften. Rengoku rubbed your shoulder to comfort you. He shot Shinobu a look, they both didn't know what to do. How could they explain to you that you're wrong? That you fought an upper moon demon by yourself, stand on your ground until a hashira came to help.

They left your room when you fell asleep. Too exhausted with the current event.

"what happened back there?" Rengoku asked. "It seems like Y/n is confused between dream and reality." Shinobu muttered, her eyes laced with worry.

[jokers-diamond]

{ For a peep of context on Harley's Adventures in Marvel... Have a snippet of our current spot in the RP. Cause I'm about to go back to idling for a bit- }

There was another moment.. Peter had a hard time not looking confused for a second, the way Harley powered through something she was about to say to change the subject as quick as she could.

He gave a smile back, though his eyes probably betrayed the fact that he was really trying to figure Harley out in that moment..

At the very least they had an incredibly comfortable place to lay their heads, what else? Who knows? Who even needed much else than this in life? A cozy place to rest, a roof over their heads, a great dinner just prior...

This was the kind of life that Peter thought about every now and again, wondering if it would even be possible.

"Yeah... Hey, Harley?" Peter had let things hang in the air for a minute or two, but he needed to ask something to keep his brain from scrambling with what if thoughts.

He just turned his head to look at her, "I-It's hard for me sometimes to really broach subjects and stuff, talking is... Well, we were already just talking, but like, talking talking can be kind of tough for me." He was really losing his tracks. "Okay... I sort of just do all my coping on the fly, and sometimes that makes it hard for me to remember to check in.. So, are you okay, Harley?"

"I mean, like.. Just okay, I already know you've seen your share of broken windows and explosions, but... I gotta ask.."

"Mm?" His call to her attention had her, immediately. Eyes opening again to watch him, smile slowly fading as she watched the troubled look in Pete's expression. Lots of thinking going on in that head of his… Did a metric ton of it- if not more- but always showed it… A feat lost on Harley, lest she was purposefully playing it up. Charming…and a little weakness of his.

She did love it, though. Would be impossible to reject any bit of him… Which made the clone situation trickier, but she was trying.

She waited patiently for Peter to figure it out. Put his words together, and all that fun stuff… Expecting it might be something a little close to the chest- maybe he'd pry about her past, after all?- only to be…shocked by where he ended up, by the end of it. Brain jumping ship and going blank, as Harley had to suddenly process…being cared about? Right now? A wellness check…from boyfriend???

Hello, outside of the wheelhouse! It's been a minute since she was put back outside and thoroughly stumped over basic kindness.

"I… Uh-?" Peter could practically hear her brain struggling to reboot; eventually just shaking her head a bit to force the damned thing to do something-!! "I'm…tryin' ta handle it?"

Partial honesty felt about right. How long she could hold that, on the other hand? …One could hope.

"It's…a lot. Certainly didn't deal wit' a whole lotta clones back in Gotham," she mused, with an uncertain laugh. "I heard we once had ta deal wit' a machine version a' Batman, but…" A pause. "This is pretty different. An' weird.

"Don't wanna go smackin' ya clone around, even with tha' shit he's pullin'. But he also… Seems ta take my prior abuse as a challenge ta fix my brain right, so-" It brought back a fleeting thought; eyes going wide and sitting up. "Wait, that's right-!! I wanted ta show ya how it worked! Or, I thought a' it, wasn't sure, kinda forgot-"

Shaking her head again, this time to move the thoughts away. More importantly-!!

"Pete. I wantcha ta slap me. Hard enough ta sting, if ya would."

Thankfully Harley responded well enough to the question, in that she actually responded and, after some hesitation, told what he could tell was true. It felt good to just- talk about things, even if they weren't great, and have that be a good discussion to have.

Couldn't exactly blame her for feeling that way about his clone, but the mention of him seeing her abuse as a challenge brought a bit of confusion before she shot up!

Now Peter was back to confused, and concerned. Immediately followed by-

"Wait what?!" Pete couldn't even begin to wrap around what was going on at this point. She just mentioned showing him how something worked and now they were somehow wrangled around to a request he was not expecting at all. "H-hold on, you want me to- Why?"

A whole lot of confusion bouncing around in his brain, and worries that somehow she thought she'd done something bad, and this was going to somehow make things even.. He didn't want things like that to even be considered, but the way she said it, it seemed so.. matter of fact.

"Okay- Say I do agree to this.. What exactly am I supposed to be shown out of this..?" He was super nervous, not that he'd hit Harley too hard, just that he'd be hitting Harley with intent to harm even a little bit.

How she didn't expect him to react this way was…. Well, it's only something Harley could pull off, is the short of it. Blinking at his shocked, concerned reaction before deciding that she just needed to explain more, is all! It would be good for them both! In a way! Peter gets an example of how the rougher parts of her romance with J effected her brain and… Maybe if she's lucky, a bit of bite to their relationship will ease the doubts the clone-Pete's put into her brain…?

Weirder things have happened. Her pain is tied tightly with pleasure, so anything could happen!

"Okay, so-! We talked about Kraven. First time? That's a big ol' my bad in thinkin' I coulda fucked around an' we'd get closah. Lesson learned," Harley said, sitting up into criss-cross. "Howevah… Both he an' ya clone clued in that I just…crumble at some roughhousin'. Too much like home… Like Joker." A heavy sigh on that one. Fuck if that breakup couldn't just…insta-heal, already…!!

"Now, Kravy don't work when I know he's a hyena killah. I might be odd, but I got my standards!! Ya clone, howevah… He seems ta know more. An' is dogged on usin' it against me." Harley straightens up a little, looking way too okay with the conversation that is happening, right now.

"So… Worst comes ta worst, first a' all, seein' fa' yaself how it works!! Consida' it, like…science." Not really how that works, but go off? "Secondly… Who knows! If he ends up scramblin' my brain a lil too hard or gettin' me ta doubt stuff I'd know are true… Whammo!" An acted, soft, but sharp enough for a crisp sound slap; her fingers hitting the opposite palm. "A lil pain does wondahs fa' tha' brain.

"…Mine, at least. Can't speak ta it workin' fa' anyone else…"

[radiant-reid]

hi cate, first of all i love yours fics!! they’re amazing

i was SA a couple of years ago, so i was wondering if you could write a fic where she has a flashback about being SA when she’s with spence and him comforting her, you can make it nsfw or swf idc

i’d really love it thanks :))

thank you <33 and i'm so sorry that happened to you, i hope you're doing okay. this was quite personal for me to write and it's more of a blurb, I hope that's okay

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

Content Warning: SA (no explicit details but heavily implied) and vomiting

Masterlist Navigation

Each Friday, you spent counting down the minutes you needed to be at the BAU and hoping no cases popped up, so you could spend the weekend doing what you wanted to do most: hang out with Spencer-.

Your relationship had progressed past the awkward first few dates and trying to navigate your relationship while working together. Now, everyone knew and you were comfortable enough around each other to do nothing but eat takeout and watch movies on his couch.

It was so easy to feel happy around Spencer when he gave you nothing but constant affection. From the little smiles across police precincts to the coffees he brought you to the subtle hand holding on the jet. Spencer had always been a source of comfort.

He had been sneaking files off your desk since lunch, trying to be subtle and failing miserably. Thanks to his help, you're walking hand in hand to your car almost the minute the rest of the team leaves.

Dinner gets decided on quickly, and you're stopping at the Thai takeout just down the street from Spencer's apartment before you end up sitting next to him on his leather couch.

Once you finish eating and the dishes are stacked in Spencer's sink, there's nothing left to do but pretend to watch the movie while you actually stare at him.

Spencer seems to be doing the same thing, and his face follows his eyes to face you. His lips are on yours only a second after he stops admiring your face, gentle but still full of love. You kiss him back eagerly, excited to have the whole night to spend with him.

The movie you were watching becomes background noise as you lose yourself in kissing him, and the only sound becomes the thumping of your heart and the sound of his lips against yours.

Spencer's tongue runs over your bottom lip, tracing it softly before using more pressure to part your lips, so he could properly make out with you. He's easily the best kisser you know, and he's good at getting a perfect pressure with his tongue.

"Spence." You whimper, your lips parting from his to get some air.

He nods in agreement, but instead of pulling you onto his lap, he moves you so you're mostly laying back with your head on the arm of the couch and his body is between your legs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tip your head up while pulling his down so you can kiss him again.

His hands move quicker, some urgency spurring him on. One large palm rests against your hips while the other slips under your shirt slowly traveling up.

Then everything stops.

Your brain switches from anticipating the pleasure he's about to bring you to defensive mode, shutting down.

Suddenly, it's not Spencer's hands on you. You can't feel his slim, soft fingertips or the way he gently touches you. You can't smell his cologne engulfing your senses. You can't taste the slight coconut flavor from the Tom Kha Gai he was eating.

It's someone completely different who's touching you in such a vulnerable way, and your eyes are so tightly closed that you can see the monster incredibly clearly in your head.

"Stop." You shake your head firmly, arms falling from where you had been tightly clinging to him. Tears completely blur your vision as you scramble to sit up and get away from him.

Spencer is instantly concerned, sitting back as he tries to work out what just happened. By the distraught look on your face, he knows it's something much less simple than your neck being stiff or his hands being too cold.

Everything inside you feels dirty, and your skin crawls uncomfortably like bugs are all over you. Your brain is even more of a mess, that same bad scenario playing over and over again on a continuous loop. It's more distressing the longer you sit there.

Before you realize what you're doing, you jump off the couch and walk to the bathroom to be sick. Spencer follows, second-guessing picking up your hair but staying there with you.

You throw up until there's nothing else for you to throw up, trying to get all of that horribly dark feeling out. The tears are still streaming down your cheeks and you're guessing it's not a pretty look.

"I'm sorry." You apologize, sinking onto the cold bathroom floor tiles in shame. You'd just got a boyfriend and now you've fucked it up because you couldn't get that out of your head when he had been nothing but perfect.

"For what?" Spencer asks gently, sitting down next to you. He was trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible to not cause you any more panic.

You don't really have a good answer for that. "Being gross...dirty."

"Y/n." He coos softly. "I don't think you're dirty. I will never think that." You finally brave it and look up at him, seeing the honesty in his eyes.

"Thank you for stopping." You squeak out, holding your knees to your chest defensively.

It didn't take anything more for Spencer to confirm his theory and he hates it. "Someone didn't stop." He mumbles and you have to nod.

"I didn't- I guess I'm sorry... because there's nothing...being with you isn't like that." You struggle to explain it to him, but he's gently nodding, letting you take your time. "I just r-remember it sometimes."

"Flashbacks from PTSD like that are normal, Y/n," Spencer assures you. "You don't need to explain it. I'm sorry I triggered that. You know you can always tell me if I'm doing something you don't like, right?"

You look right into his eyes for another few moments, focusing on how honest he looks. "Yes, and thank you."

"It's the bare minimum, Y/n." He reminds you, purposefully using your name. "If you want to talk about it now or ever, I'm here for you."

No one was yet to treat you so gently, and his delicate eyes watch yours. "I just want a hug." You request, standing up and waiting for Spencer to follow. He lets you make the first move, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, Spencer holds you tightly around your waist. "Maybe some ice cream too." You mumble into his chest.

Spencer chuckles slightly, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of your head. "Whatever you want, sweet girl."

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[modernbaseball]

... i want you to drop your numbered list of s4 problems <3

omg anon i love you. sorry if this gets long except no im not you asked for MY list so you shall receive MY long ass list!!!

obligatory if you don't want to hear criticism then don't go further. it is not my problem if this enrages u. but if u disagree/agree/have other opinions let me know im totally fine with some respectful back-and-forth about this season. despite what i make it sound like i don't HATE it and im open to other opinions

i do not talk about the marwa problem because. yeah. there's one more episode i guess. so what i'm saying is come back next wednesday to hear me talk about the marwa problem

character traits and flaws are being played up in excess

remember how DUMB nandor is? remember how BAD he is at understanding others? he is never going to understand a single thing said to him or when someone is upset or when he has made a mistake despite having established deep relationships with these characters. and also he's going to have the same story arc as last season but with a LOT less respect for women!!! (so much for himbo)

nadja is #GIRLBOSS (a lot of people might go "well maybe i like her like this!!!!" ok fine sorry that i like my female characters to be more than a plot device. she had to want a night club so they could do night club stuff. so empowering. she's had some good moments this season but half the time its YAS GIRLBOSS!!! ok just recognizing that this is a stupid "feminist" trope doesn't make it anything more than that)

laszlo is BISEXUAL DAD (honestly don't have a lot of issues here. good for him. just wish they would chill out with the Quippy One Liners. they're funny because they exist within the narrative)

guillermo is SOMEHOW STILL BEING MISTREATED (despite having 2 seasons dedicated to this particular issue. can we move on)

2. disregard of detail

ok it's stupid but it really DOES bother me that the intro has adult colin pictures when the intro was adjusted to fit details like colin's death in the past. if the vampires in-universe see baby colin as being his own person, why do we see him lumped into the same images as adult colin?

other little things that bug me

the vampires are suddenly well liked and have friends in the community (nadja's club opening and nandor's wedding)

the baron being seen as someone of prestige when the whole thing was that he is a vampire nobody

ignoring the big obvious fact that there WAS a vampire nightclub

where is all this blood coming from

hypnosis was previously only used as an occasional plot device and we got a whole episode about why that is (brain scramblies) and now it is in EVERY. SINGLE. EPISODE. it is TIRING. it is CHEAP. it is NOT. INTERESTING.

the nightmarket just existed this whole time?

all the wishing stuff. if nandor was willing to take guillermo's advice for one wish, why not others?

3. bigger isn't better/nothing matters

so in the past, wwdits was built upon a pretty simple concept: What if vampires existed in modern day, but they were pathetic and lame and boring?

oh an epic and powerful baron is meeting with them? no he's actually lame and also guillermo kills him on accident. a trial with the vampiric council?? nah it's in some basement and the vampires get away because colin brought an umbrella. vampire killers??? lame inexperienced group of young adults who end up not killing a single vampire.

things had weight and importance. the show worked as a dark silly mocumentary because it felt grounded in the simple docu-type shit, like "how would modern vampires find more virgins to eat?" "how does guillermo get rid of bodies?" now it's like, yeah we have blood on tap pretty much. whatever.

4. the fucking time jump

why spend an entire season setting up an epic three part finale which then sets up an insane cliffhanger to fucking throw it away within the first episode? tension created for nothing. elaborate story set up for nothing. character's individual motivations and obstacles set up for nothing. no pay off. makes season 3 feel significantly less good because what was it even for anyways

5. character motivation

character motivation is not shown or understood over time: it is not stated ("i want a vampire nightclub!") and assumed we believe it

vampire night club. just.........................this has never, EVER made sense for nadja's character. especially now. there was 0 set up to indicate she would ever want a thing like this. is this trying to be more female-empowering? ppl might call it "satire" or "subverting tropes" but it isnt enough to just preform a trope and state in-universe that you know it is a trope (saying she is a girlboss)

nandor wants to find love still i guess. this feels sort of like they realized nandor was left without something to do after scrapping his journey home story so they were like ok i guess he's just doing the same thing he did last season. i thought his new motivation was to find himself but i guess they just didn't feel like doing that anymore so

6. the nandermo problem

ok. this isn't so much a criticism like the other ones as it is...idk. my Feelings or something.

if this is NOT leading to nandermo: ok i guess. not the end of the world. sucks that they baited this particular couple (not QUEERBAITED, yes, i am aware) and continued to run the "WHO IS NANDOR'S LOVE INTEREST!" plotline into the ground for nothing but ok. i would have been fine with a brief romance and a horrible break up FYI. they are just funny when they are obsessed with each other. sue me

if this IS leading to nandermo: would it fucking kill you to act like it. what's the point in them getting together if they avoid the two of them being together or having any normal romantic/sexual subtext like the plague except for one-off lines and D-plots. either commit or don't

7. actually fuck you im adding this one to the list

ohhh we are so diverse ohhhh we are so inclusive look at all the same sex casual sexual relationships and romances. NAME A WOMAN. NAME A WOMAN. yes we've gotten f/f breadcrumbs but can nadja just fuck a woman or something. can we just have some same sex women in here. so much classic lesbian media is vampire related it would not be that hard. it would not fucking kill you. come on.

charmaine is there. the guide is there. marwa is there. better yet get some more female characters in general. better YET. i want my jenna back

[cursed-domain]

Shiny Toys

Toji has a gun and you think it’s. Neat.

WC ~2.1k

Thanks @yuurrrrrrr for sparking the idea, I hope you like the result

Contains: NSFW!! GUN. Gun play and fear play. There’s a gun, and use of it is threatened within a consensual sexual context. Threat recipient know’s she’s ~probably~ safe but… fear is part of the excitement for her.

Also uhh dick sucking, dacryphilia and maybe a splash of degradation

I was gonna do something chill for my first fic on here but then. this happened instead. oops.

———————————————————————

“You gotta leave soon?” you ask.

Toji shakes his head. “I got time. Just for you, y’know.”

“Sure.” You laugh, because you know you’re not that special. You’re just - convenient, and maybe even a little bit interesting. And also, perhaps, insane for even being here right now. Most of the guys you’ve shared a hotel room with don’t have that kind of body count. But… fuck it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here with him, and it won’t be the last.

Toji has his feet kicked up on a table. Seeing him so relaxed, you wouldn’t guess what he was going to do once he left. Just a job, he calls it. One that pays real well. It makes your heartbeat race, seeing him so nonchalant about the power he holds. You wish you could say it was from fear.

“Gonna be an easy one today,” he says, folding his hands behind his head. “So I got plenty of time. Just gonna take an hour and a couple toys to get it done.”

You raise your eyebrows, smirking, and he cuts you off before you can even open your mouth. “Not that kind of toy. Fuck. You can’t turn that side of your brain off for one second.”

“You make it hard.”

“Hmm.” He’s smiling. This is somewhat rare. And potentially dangerous. “You wanna see my favorite? I got it in my pocket right now.”

“Favorite toy?” You should probably just bite your tongue now. “Thought that was me.”

“You’re fuckin hilarious.” His hand moves, lightning fast, and in it materializes a handgun. Casually pointed in your general direction. Safety on, of course. You’re pretty sure. “That’s why you’re a close second.”

You get up and come to stand at his side. He spins the gun casually in his hand. It’s small, compact, shiny - “Kinda pretty,” you say.

“Yeah.” He laughs. “Pretty. Until -“ he’s quick again. It materializes right against the side of your head. “Boom.” With his free hand, he mimics a gunshot.

“…Mhmm.” Your voice is faint, suddenly, different enough from usual to make him suspicious.

“Why so quiet?” He grabs your wrist, yanking you down to lean over him. “Did I scare you?”

“Kinda.” Fuck. You can feel yourself getting red. Getting hot. “But. Um.” You glance at the weapon, still held tight in his hand.

“Oh?” His grip tightens on your wrist, and he pulls you closer. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Um. Maybe…”

His grip tightens on your wrist. Then he nudges your temple with the opening of the cold metal barrel, and your brain goes blank again. And with him staring you down like this, forcing you to stay right where he wants you - reflexively, your thighs clench tightly together.

Toji notices everything. He has to. And even if he didn’t, you aren’t exactly subtle. “Knew you had a long, long list of turn-ons,” he laughs, “but this is new.” Keeping the barrel pressed against your head, he yanks your arm forward, forcing you to bend down to his eye level. He kicks his feet up off the table. “You’re a little slut for danger, aren’t you?”

Your brain isn’t working. The only option is the truth. “Yes. Mhmm.“

He yanks you into position again, depositing you on his lap. “You’re very lucky you’re mine right now.” His breath is hot in your ear, his teeth bared. “Because I’m gonna have some fun with this.”

The gun doesn’t budge. You squirm in his lap as his fingernails dig into your skin.

“Stay still,” he admonishes. “You’re being so impatient already. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You could argue against this. His free hand is already riding very high on your thigh. And sitting like this, right between his legs, feeling him through his clothes - he knows it’s unreasonable to expect your patience. But cold metal is sliding across your cheek, now, so you manage to keep yourself quiet.

“You’re shaking. Scared? Or…” The barrel rubs up against your lips, and his hand slides between your legs.

“I like being scared,“ you whisper. “‘s really hot when you’re scary.”

He scoffs. “You haven’t seen me scary. Not yet. Do you really want to?”

You nod frantically. “Mhmm.”

“Hmm.” He nudges your mouth open with the edge of the barrel. “Think you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen as the cylinder slides past your lips and shoves into your mouth. You whimper in a faint protest as it comes close to scraping the back of your throat.

“You’ve got your lips curled back. Don’t you?” He presses his fingers and palm hard against your cunt, through your clothes, forcing a whimper out of your stuffed mouth. “Bet your tongue is dragging along the bottom, too. Don’t be embarrassed. I like that. Means you’re well trained.”

You seem to be frozen in place. But you feel your head nod, up and down.

“Now,” he says. “In a second, if you behave yourself, I’m going to take this out of your mouth. But I’m going to keep it very close to your head. You’re going to thank me for letting you go, and then you’re going to get on your knees right there on the floor. And you’re gonna suck my cock like your life depends on it, because as far as you know, it might.”

You stay frozen. You can’t say anything, and you’re suddenly very scared of answering wrong. He wouldn’t do it. It’s not a real threat. It can’t be. But the amount of power he holds over you is making you dizzy and so, so hot. You rub your damp thighs together and let yourself believe it.

“Just nod again, sweetheart. You don’t even need to make a sound.”

You force yourself to move, just enough to do as he says.

“Good. Now, it feels like your mouth is really clamped down on this thing. And I don’t wanna hurt your precious lips on the way out. So open up a little wider, alright? Very good.” As promised, his hand stays close, hovering right beside your head as the other tugs on the waist of your skirt. “Now, what do you say?”

“Th -” You’re so short of breath that you have to start over. “Thank you. Thank you - for sparing me. And - and for letting me serve you. I’ll do so good for you. I promise.”

“Gonna hold you to that, sweetheart.”

You scramble to the floor right before he rises from his seat, turning around as he pulls the waist of his pants below his hips. His toy never leaves his hand, though, and soon he’s aiming it down, right at your skull.

“Strip for me before you start,” he orders. “Give me something nice to look at, yeah?”

“Mhmm. Yes, sir.” It takes longer than it should. Your hands shake as you pull your shirt over your head and fumble over the clasp of your bra.

Once you’re naked before him, Toji grabs your jaw and tilts your head back. Then he leans over you, and trails the barrel of his gun up your stomach, stopping to hold it upright between your tits, grinning as your eyes widen. “What’re you thinking about?” He shakes his head. “Dirty little slut.” Before he stands up, he spits into your open mouth, and without hesitation, you swallow it. “‘Least you know how to behave yourself.”

He reaches out to grab your hair, twisting his fingers through it before yanking you forward. “You’re making me impatient, now,” he says.“You’re too scared to move? Let’s see if I can get you so scared that you have to.” He let’s go of your hair, and then your entire body tenses as a click echoes out above you. “Safety’s off, sweetheart. Only one way to get it back on.”

Nononono…. You don’t dare give yourself a chance to protest. You lurch forward, letting all the cock you can fit into your mouth, holding back a gag as it penetrates your throat. It’s not even close to all the way down, either. You doubt you could take him all the way - doubt anyone could. You’re too big, you whined, the first time you tried. I can’t - ‘s too much. You come up for a breath, determined to show him you’ve improved. Show him you’re worth keeping.

“Slow down, princess.” He pushes your hair back from your face and trails his index finger down your jawline. “You’re so eager. I’ve taught you better than that. Done this enough times to know you gotta build up, right?”

You pull back and nod frantically, not daring to look up. “I - I’m sorry -“ you stammer. I could die. I really could -

“Start again. Nice and slow. Control yourself.” He grins crookedly, and places his hand firmly on the back of your head. “You’ll know when it’s time to change that. Alright?”

You squeak out an “mhmm,” not even giving yourself time to nod your head before you lick a thick, slow stripe up the underside of Toji’s cock. You’re not sure if you can control yourself enough to do anything more precise. You’re shaking, blinking hard and fast as you coat his shaft with your tongue. You manage to move up to the tip, enveloping it in your mouth as your tongue flicks gently underneath.

You don’t let yourself think. If you think, you’ll panic. Just one little twitch of his finger… and you asked for all of this. You’re fucking enjoying it.

You feel your tears welling up, but you don’t dare stop to wipe your eyes dry. You force yourself to follow your practiced motions, working your lips and tongue up and down his cock, over and over until the tears running down your cheeks mix with the drool overrunning the boundaries of your mouth.

Your eyes glance up at him, and you can tell from his expression that you are perfect. A perfect, terrified, sobbing, cock-hungry mess. Your jaw is tired, but you don’t dare stop. It’s almost a relief when he takes over, grabbing the back of your head and fucking hard into your open mouth, grinning wider as the beginnings of a gag bubble up in your throat. And there’s still more -

He lowers the gun for moment. Right in front of your face. Turned to the side so you can see his finger hovering over the trigger. “You wanna keep me happy, don’t you, love? Wanna keep yourself happy?”

A strange, pathetic little moan vibrates out of your mouth. Yes, you think. Anything -

“Then don’t you dare fucking struggle.”

Cold metal digs into your skull, and Toji’s nails dig into the back of your head as he forces you to stay still against the rutting of his hips. You whimper around the base of his cock as you try to resist the urge to pull back against his hand. Again and again, he forces as much as you’ve ever taken into your poor, exhausted throat. And of course, you don’t shy away one bit. Don’t even tug against his hand when you gag. There’s nothing you can do but let him fuck your throat raw.

Don’t try to stop, you tell yourself. Don’t fucking stop, or - or -

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, you’re yanked back one last time. You look up, eyes still teary, as your tongue is coated with cum. You open your mouth wide so Toji can see it pooled before you swallow. There’s a click, and then something heavy clangs down on the table in front of you.

Toji’s hands, both empty, twist through your hair and then cup your face. He smiles down at you, holding you in place until your breaths slow and your heart rate steadies. “You wanna know something?

You nod, and he pulls you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and leaning down to whisper his secret into your ear. “It was empty. Just hollow metal.”

“It…” you take a moment to understand. When you do, you bury your face in his shirt, suddenly blinking back tears all over again. “Toji… you fucking liar.”

“You wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun if I’d told you, princess. But I’m not quite that fucked up.” He grabs a fistful of your shirt and pulls you back, tipping your chin up with one finger. “Not around you, anyways.”

He’s grinning. Like a fucking psychopath. And it just makes you want to do it all again.

[storiesforallfandoms]

i don’t need your help ~ jace herondale;shadowhunters

word count: 2524

request?: yes!

“Alec Lightwood or Jace Herondale (either one works) smut? If you're comfortable with writing for shadowhunters, ofc <3″

description: after a run in with a demon that almost turns bad, a fight between her and one of her fellow shadowhunters turns into something so much more

pairing: jace herondale x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, smut

masterlist (one, two)

Izzy helped me limp into the Institute, my body feeling run down and exhausted already. She laid me down on a bed and it took me a moment to register that it was my own bed. I was aching all over, but I tried to keep a brave face. At least, I thought I was keeping a brave face. For all I knew I was sobbing like a baby.

“I’ll get my stele,” she told me. “Just...just stay awake, okay?”

I tried to respond but it came out as a pained moan instead. Izzy quickly raced from my room to her own. I could hear her in the distance furiously looking for here stele. I tried to stay awake but my eyes were starting to grow heavy and my head was lulling back against the pillow under me. The thought of drifting off into unconsciousness felt like the best idea I had ever had in that moment.

I heard someone at the door and thought it was Izzy coming back. When I looked up, I saw it was Jace standing in my doorway. His face was pale and he was staring at me in horror. I could only imagine how awful I looked.

“(Y/N),” he breathed. He quickly raced to my side and pulled his stele out. “What the hell happened to you?”

“She had a run in with a demon while she was alone,” Izzy responded, appearing at Jace’s side. “I got there just in time. Can you help me draw healing ruins? She’s going to need a few.”

“I’m way ahead of you.”

The slight burn of Jace’s stele touching my arm caused me to let out a yelp of pain. He looked at me with sympathy as he continued to draw the healing Rune. Izzy moved to my other side and started drawing a Rune there too. It hurt as they were drawing them, but I felt a numbness wash over my body as the Rune started to take effect.

Jace started to stroke my hair after drawing another ruin on me. He looked down at me, his face full of concern. “Rest while the ruins do their work, (Y/N).”

Getting Jace’s permission to finally rest felt like a blessing, and within seconds I was passed out.

~~~~~~

I wasn’t sure how long I was out. When I woke up again, my head still felt heavy and my vision was spinning a little. I tried to lift my head to look around, but it felt like someone had poured nails into my head and shaken it. I groaned and laid back down again, raising my hand to put it on my forehead. I realized then that the pain had completely left my body, except for the headache I had, and I felt good as new again.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, turning my head to see who had stayed with me while I was unconscious. I knew either Jace or Izzy had. They weren’t going to leave me when I was in such rough condition.

Through the slight darkness of my room, I could make out the figure sitting down as Jace. I was slightly shocked to see that Jace was the one who had stayed. Despite his caring and concerned nature when Izzy had first brought me home, the two of us weren’t exactly close. We didn’t hate each other or anything, but we were constantly fighting and he irritated the hell out of me. I didn’t think his kindness would extend to staying with me while I was unconscious.

“A few hours,” he responded. “It’s 2am now, you got back around 8 or 9pm I think.”

I groaned. “I definitely feel like I’ve been out for five or six hours.”

“What were you thinking?” Jace questioned, rising from his seat. “Facing a demon alone? You were lucky that Izzy had known where you were or else you definitely wouldn’t have been feeling as good as you do now.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” I muttered. “For your information, I didn’t go out with the intentions of facing a demon alone. I was just out and I got cornered by a demon that knew I was a Shadowhunter. I wasn’t expecting it and it got the jump on me.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out on your own at all. You know the dangers of being caught are high, especially when you can be spotted at any time by a demon.”

I braced myself as I sat up, the pounding feeling in my head intensifying for just a moment, before slowly numbing again.

“I can’t stay cooped up here forever, Jace,” I retorted. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Obviously you’re not or else you wouldn’t have been on death’s doorstep when you got back here.”

“I was not on death’s doorstep. Izzy found me in time, but even if she hadn’t I would’ve been fine.”

“You didn’t look fine.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Listen Jace, I appreciate this...concern you have for me, but I’m fine. I don’t need this lecture, I don’t need anyone’s help, especially not yours. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t actually like me all that much, so you don’t need to continue this caring act, or the lecture. I’m fine and I can take care of myself.”

The tension hung in the air. I expected Jace to walk away and to finally leave me alone. You can imagine my shock when he approached me suddenly, putting one hand behind my head and pulling me in for a kiss.

I was shocked. I didn’t know how to respond to it. I thought for a second that Jace had gone insane, that maybe some Downworlder had scrambled his brain or something. There was no way in Hell that Jace Herondale would willingly kiss me. I was just a torn in his side, and he was one in mine.

But something just felt right about the kiss. His rough hands were gentle as one cupped the back of my neck while the other was wrapped around my waist. He pulled me forward to the edge of the bed, nudging my legs open so he could stand between them. My hands were gripping the t-shirt he was wearing, taking in every last bit of him that I could.

I felt myself laying back on my bed against, Jace’s hand still under my head. He moved with me, hovering over me as our lips moved perfectly in sync with one another. His other hand slipped under my shirt, softly trailing up my side until he reached my bra. We broke away from the kiss just long enough for Jace to pull my shirt over my head and unhook my bra in one swift motion.

He looked down at me, his beautiful different colored eyes soft but full of lust. He gently ran his fingers over my cheek before pressing his lips against mine once more, then moving to start kissing cheek, my jaw, my neck. His lips hovered a moment over the fresh Runes that he and Izzy had drawn on my skin. When he pressed a kiss against them, it almost felt like he was soothing the slight burn that was still there. He continued to gently brush his lips over the white scars left behind from other Runes that had been drawn on my skin for years.

My head fell back against the pillow underneath me as Jace’s lips continued to kiss down my chest and stomach, stopping just above the hem of my jeans. He looked up at me, waiting for permission. When I nodded, he made quick work of pulling my jeans and panties off at one time. He pressed another light kiss just above m aching core before diving in with his tongue.

I gasped at the pleasurable feeling. Of course, being a Shadowhunter doesn’t mean you never have sex. Quite the opposite, really. All four of us in the Institution were no strangers to sex. But this...this was a feeling of pleasure beyond what I had ever experienced before. I blamed the fact that I had only ever had sex with Mundane men before now.

I ran a hand through Jace’s hair and grabbed hold of it. The action caused him to moan against me, the vibrations running through my body.

He lifted his head for air, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he lightly played with my clit.

“I can’t describe how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, placing gentle kisses against my stomach again.

“You have a weird way of sh - oh  - owing it,” I said, trying to tease him through the pleasure he was giving me.

He smiled in response and moved his hand away. I whimpered from the lack of contact, an action I wasn’t too proud of afterwards but in the moment I could care less.

Jace kissed my lips again, the taste of my arousal on his lips and tongue. It turned me on even more and I just wanted to have him inside of me.

I pushed him down onto the bed and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He looked impressed by my action. I ran my hands down his still clothed chest, reaching the bottom of his shirt.

“I hardly think it’s far that you’re still dressed while I’m completely naked,” I said.

“Well, we can fix that,” he responded.

I made quick work of taking his clothes off, discarding them somewhere on the floor with my own. When I pulled his boxers down, I audibly gasped at his length. He chuckled at my reaction. “Surprised?”

“Surprised that my fantasies were true,” I responded.

Jace raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve fantasized about me?”

I took him in my hand and started to slowly stroke him. A breathy gasp escaped from his mouth as he fell completely helpless to my touch.

“It’s hard not to sometimes,” I admitted. “When you’re walking around here in your tight clothes, or with no shirt on. You’re so confident and cocky, it’s hard not to imagine what you’d be like in bed.”

“You finally have the real me here,” he said. “Why not make those fantasies a reality?”

He didn’t have to asked twice.

I spit onto the head of his dick, using my hand to spread it all over him before lining him up with my entrance. The moment his tip slipped inside of me, we both moaned in pleasure and relief. So much built up tension between us, sexual and otherwise, finally being released.

I slowly sat myself down on him, taking in every inch. His hands found their way to my hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that I was sure I’d have bruises there. Once I had adjusted to his size, he started rocking my hips against him, the friction starting to build between us.

I placed my hands on his chest, trying to steady myself as I took over rocking my hips. He looked into my eyes, his mouth partially open as moans and whimpers escaped from his lips. Even with these small movements he was hitting a spot inside of me that I had never felt before. I was almost sure I’d orgasm within seconds.

Jace sat up then, wrapping one arm around my waist while planting the other one on the bed behind him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding on tightly as he began to thrust up into me. The motions were rougher and faster, hitting that spot inside of me with a force I hadn’t felt before. I buried my head in Jace’s shoulder, trying to muffle my moans as I remembered there were two other people living in the Institution.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Fuck Jace,” I moaned. “That feels so fucking good. I might...I might...”

“What are you gonna do, princess?”

Fuck! And a pet name, too? I was putty in his hands.

I couldn’t even finish my sentence. My climax built up quick and hit me before I was even ready for it. I moaned Jace’s name against his shoulder as I felt myself clenching around him, a warm sensation running through my body.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in me,” I whispered. “Please, Jace.”

He threw his head back and groaned as I felt him finish inside of me. I gasped at the feeling, which was almost enough to make me orgasm again.

Jace fell backwards onto the bed, taking me with him. I giggled as I settled against his chest, still wrapped around his softening member. I could stay like that for hours if Jace wanted to.

“Maybe I should get attacked by demons more often,” I mumbled to myself.

Jace tensed under me. “I would much rather if you didn’t.”

I moved my head to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Relax, I was only joking. I meant what I said earlier, Jace, I can handle demons on my own.”

He relaxed again, starting to trace his fingers up and down my back. “I know you can. I shouldn’t have overreacted earlier. I’m sorry.”

Normally I’d make some quip about him apologizing, but some things were starting to add up in my head. “You were always hounding me and shit because you were worried for me.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jace responded anyways. “Yeah. I...I just never wanted you to get hurt.”

“Jace, I’m a Shadowhunter just like you. I’ve faced numerous Downworlders before, both by myself and with you guys. I can take care of myself, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’ve always been impressed with your fighting skills. It’s just...I care for you in a way that I’ve never cared for someone before. I always worry when you’re out with Izzy or Alec or anyone who isn’t me because I’m afraid of the day that...maybe you don’t come back. When I saw you earlier today...I was so terrified that I was actually going to lose you.”

I propped myself up a bit to take Jace’s face in my hands. “I appreciate how much you care, but you have to have faith in me, Jace. This is the first time I’ve seriously been injured while fighting a Downworlder, and I promise you it’ll be the last time too.”

Jace nodded. I smiled a little and leaned down to kiss him again. I finally decided to untangle myself from him, although I felt empty without him inside of me. I laid down next to him, feeling sleepy from our earlier activities.

My eyes were starting to close when Jace said, “Hey (Y/N).”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we should close the door next time we decide to have sex.”

My eyes popped open to see that my bedroom door was wide open. I hadn’t noticed that earlier, what with being...“preoccupied” and all. I groaned and buried my face in Jace’s chest as he laughed.

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.���

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

A Cozy Evening

Word count: 2800

Warnings: just a sticky sweet little fluff bomb for you all to enjoy 😉

You were all going to have to wait for this til tomorrow but @writingfics-passingtime is just good at striking a deal to get things early so… here it is! A nice bit of fluff to contrast the ruthlessness she’s posting 🙃

This is part 3 to An Embarrassing Secret, as requested by @sweetxnertickle - I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to those who submitted plot ideas! I went from zero ideas to too many ideas, so now it looks like I'm going to have to continue this multi-part fic for a little longer

Read first: Part 1 An Embarrassing Secret, Part 2 A Difficult Question

Movie nights were quite common in the Avengers tower. It was a great way to bond with the team, gathering everyone in the same room for something other than saving the world from certain doom. Sure, the team did other fun group activities together from time to time, but there was just something so cozy and homely about curling up on the couch with a blanket in your pajamas and watching a movie while trying to stay awake.

It was also a great excuse to sit close to Loki.

You were feeling a little extra cozy tonight, putting on your favorite pajama shorts and t-shirt and wrapping yourself in the fluffiest fleece blanket you owned. Thrown around your shoulders, the edge of the blanket just barely grazed the floor as you walked. The fabric was soft as it brushed against the bare skin of your calves.

Maybe you’d been feeling a bit touch-starved the last few days. It had been a few weeks since you’d worked up the courage to ask Loki to tickle you (or, rather, he’d forced your hand, so you’d have no choice but to ask. The audacity.) Since then, you hadn’t really had the opportunity to physically be close to anyone. Sure, there was the occasional high-five after a skilled move on a mission, or after a successful sparring match, but outside of those moments you pretty much kept to yourself. It wasn’t in your nature to ask for affection, even when you craved it. So, you did the next best thing, and surrounded yourself with soft, fluffy fabric.

You were disappointed to find that Loki hadn’t arrived yet in the common room when you headed in to find your seat. Usually, you tried to time your arrival so you would get there just after he sat down so you could conveniently choose the seat next to him. Now, you had to rely on him wanting to sit with you; or, at least, you had to hope there were no other seats left in the room by the time he arrived. The god had you feeling like you were back in high school crushing on a schoolmate – it was both a terrifying and giddy feeling.

Choosing a spot on the open two-seat sofa, you lay down on your side with your head resting on the arm and stretched your legs across the cushions. If someone asked you seriously to make space, you knew you would do it without hesitation, but you’d be dreadfully disappointed that you weren’t sitting with Loki. Each time someone new walked in the door, you held your breath, hoping they would find somewhere else to sit. You were so focused on making sure no one besides Loki sat with you that you didn’t actually notice when the lanky, dark-haired Asgardian himself strode into the room.

“Move.”

You looked up to see Loki hovering over you, waiting expectantly for you to move your legs to make space for him to sit. Glancing around, you noticed there were still a couple other seats open, which made your heart flutter. He actually wanted to sit with you, he chose to sit with you. But maybe you wanted to push his buttons a little bit.

“Not until you ask nicely,” you bargained, smirking. His eyes flashed, a slight upward curling to the corner of his lips.

“Move, or else.”

You feigned a gasp, stretching your legs out a bit more. “So rude! You’re not making me feel very generous, Loki.”

The look he gave you next made your stomach flip. The intense, mischievous eyes… the barely-there smirk… you knew you were in trouble the moment the words left your mouth.

“Move, or I’ll make you.”

Becoming a bit flustered already, you pulled your blanket up over your mouth and nose to hide your boiling cheeks and shook your head, holding your ground. He looked down at you with an expression of pity.

The logical thing would have been for him to move your legs. Clearly it would be no trouble to him, with his godly strength. But when you tried to cross Loki, he had to make a statement. So, instead, he reached down and lifted you effortlessly by the shoulders, forcing you to sit up enough so he could slide into the seat where your upper body was previously positioned. You scrambled to sit up all the way, feeling very shy at the idea of laying your head in his lap, but as you shifted he snaked an arm around your waist and tugged you toward him to lean with your back against his side and chest. He grasped the corner of the blanket closest to him, dragging it across to steal some for himself. It was large enough to cover you both, so long as you kept your knees slightly bent.

“Comfortable?” he asked teasingly, his lips startlingly close to your ear.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded stiffly. Your face was on fire now, more than a little bit flustered at the position you were in now. Loki’s arm was still wrapped around you, his hand resting on the side of your belly beneath the blanket. It would have been incredibly comfortable, if it weren’t for your anxiety brain telling you that you couldn’t relax too heavily into him, or hewould be uncomfortable.

The lights turned off, the screen turned on and a film began to play on the television. The room fell silent, save for the sounds of the music playing over the opening credits. A few strands of your hair shifted with every rise and fall of Loki’s chest behind you, his soft breath fanning over your forehead.

“Are you certain you’re comfortable?” he whispered suddenly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re quite stiff.” If you could see his face from where you were leaning against him, you’d have noticed the glint of mischief flashing in his eyes. “Maybe you just need some assistance.”

You let out a soft gasp when you felt his fingers suddenly graze against your side, tracing random patterns against your t-shirt. Your hand instinctively darted to grasp his tickling fingers, but you quickly released them with a rush of heat to your face.

“Loki!” you hissed.

“Yes? What is it?” His fingers began to sweep along your side again, maddeningly gentle. You bit your bottom lip, shifting a little to lean more heavily into him.

“Ok, I-I’m relaxed now,” you insisted.

“Oh, but I’m not finished yet.” His fingers found the hem of your t-shirt, curling up underneath it to ghost along the skin of your belly just above your hips. Barely withholding a shriek, you reached up to pull the blanket up over your nose again, clamping a hand over your own mouth.

His soft, barely-there touch was agonizing. Making things worse, you had to fight to hold in your laughter and squirming to prevent the others from realizing what he was doing to you. At best, they’d realize he was tickling you beneath the blanket, and they’d tease you for it later. At worst, they’d think… well, their minds may stray elsewhere. Neither option was one you were willing to risk. But gods, if it didn’t make every swipe of his fingers tickle ten times more knowing you had to try not to react to his touch.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, this was exactly what you needed to cure your touch-starved mood.

It was quite the dilemma you were in. Allow him to continue with this sweet torture and risk your reactions giving something away to the others. Or, tell him to stop and feel the inevitable sense of loss when he obliged. The choice was obvious – you had to risk it.

When his fingers traveled up to the skin in the middle of your belly, right above your bellybutton, you began to reconsider your life choices.

Your abdomen twitched helplessly under his fingers, shoulders shaking in silent, breathy laughter. A sudden burst of air from his nose told you he was enjoying himself, laughing as he tore you to pieces with the mere flick of his fingertips against your bare skin. You weren’t even sure what movie they’d put on, and you didn’t care. The only thought in your brain right now was trying to contain your reactions despite your desperate desire to giggle out loud.

“P-please,” you whispered in desperation.

“Please what?”

“M-move s-somewhere e-else,” you pleaded.

“Alright.” You let out a slow breath as he slipped his hand out from beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your reprieve was short-lived, though, as his fingers wrapped around your side and began lightly pinching and kneading rapidly. You couldn’t help but let out the tiniest of squeals, moving your other hand on top of the first to cover your mouth with both hands. “What’s wrong, love? You’re awfully jittery this evening.”

You couldn’t curse at him with your hands over your mouth, so instead you reached out with one hand to grasp his forearm and squeezed, trying to distract yourself from the agonizing sensation.

“Oh – I’m sorry, does this tickle?” he whispered in your ear. You turned your head slightly to throw a wide-eyed glare in his direction, startling yourself with the proximity of his face to yours. He responded with a widening smirk, his fingers beginning to ascend toward your ribcage. Shaking your head wildly, you pushed down against his forearm, trying to prevent his tickling fingers from crawling any higher. “Why are you fighting this? I thought you liked it.”

“Loki-eep!” you lowered your hand from your mouth for only a second to scold him, jolting when his other hand slipped beneath the blanket and latched on to your other side. Luckily your squeak was hidden beneath a sudden surge of volume in the music in the movie. Something important must be happening. No matter, you had bigger things to worry about right now.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Flustering you first by pulling you in close and then tickling you senseless to top it all off. Maybe he had noticed you fading into yourself a bit more these days, rubbing a hand along your own shoulder or resting your hand on your knee absentmindedly while sitting by yourself. It was likely that you, yourself didn’t even realize what you were doing. But Loki was perceptive, especially when it came to you. And if he was being honest with himself, he needed the closeness as much as you did tonight. He’d have been satisfied just to hold you in his arms, but he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t relish in the feeling of you squirming under his fingers, cuddling in closer to him as a result. And the fact that you enjoyed it as much as he did made it all the more fun.

Feeling your silent, shaking laughter against his side, he let his fingers rest along your ribcage, adding a bit of weight to his touch to avoid tickling you. You took in long, slow, deep breaths, trying not to gasp in air and resultantly make a loud noise. Glancing around anxiously, you didn’t see anyone looking inquisitively in your direction. Good – you didn’t want to have to answer any awkward questions from your teammates later.

Gradually, your breathing shallowed to a more normal respiratory pattern. Still, Loki’s fingers rested heavily on your sides, unmoving. You shifted a bit to lean more firmly into his side, hoping he’d take the hint that you had recovered enough to start again. You were keenly aware of the location of each of his fingers along your ribcage, waiting with bated breath for them to suddenly spring into action and start scratching between your ribs again.

If there was one thing you should have learned about Loki by now, it was that he enjoyed teasing you. He knew what you wanted. But you were going to have to find a way to ask for it.

Releasing a short huff of frustration, you tilted your head backward to look up at the dark-haired Asgardian who had made himself your pillow for the evening. You could barely make out his features by the glow of the TV screen, the light dancing across his face as the movie continued to play. He glanced down at you when he realized you were looking at him. You softened your eyes, jutting your bottom lip out the slightest bit. He let out a breath of a laugh through his nose at pouting expression, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head in a look that asked what you wanted without words. You frowned, brow furrowed, trying to will him to just read your mind. He shrugged, letting his expression harden and feigning ignorance as he turned to look at the TV screen once again.

Suppressing the urge to whine, you reached your hand up to where his rested on your side, tapping it gently. You saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his hand remained still. You had one last trick up your sleeve, though. You shifted yourself to turn your upper body a bit, allowing that to be a distraction as you moved your hand over to the side you were resting against, latching your thumb and index finger onto his lower ribs and pinching a few times in rapid succession. You weren’t even sure if he was ticklish, but the sudden jolting gave you your answer.

His hand clamped down around your wrist, prying it away from his side as he turned his head to look at you with narrowed eyes, a look that screamed ‘you’re in trouble.’ Your stomach swooped in anxious and excited anticipation.

His grip around your waist tightened, pulling you closer against his side to hide his own vulnerable areas using your back as a shield. He latched both hands on your sides, his long, slender fingers reaching well across your belly, and began to claw into the soft skin through your shirt. It was all you could do to suppress a burst of laughter from exploding from your chest, clamping your hands over your mouth and nose but resultantly leaving your torso unprotected. Apparently you’d succeeded in getting under his skin, because he was no longer trying to go easy on you, thumbs digging into your sides just below your ribs as his four fingers scratched across your belly.

You were glad he at least had mercy enough to not target your weaker spots, because the effort it took to suppress your laughter was making you want to explode. Tears of mirth collected in the corners of your eyes as you let out small, short bursts of air through your nose, shoulders shaking. Loki was precise and unrelenting tonight, continuing to torment that same spot for what felt like an eternity. You finally couldn’t take it any longer, moving one hand away from covering your mouth to push at his hands. Instead of stopping, he merely allowed his hands to slide down a bit to dig into your hips.

In all your years on earth, you’d never been tickled in that specific spot, although you knew supposedly it was terribly sensitive for some. You never imagined you were one of those people.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Your eyes grew wide as you arched your back against his devilish touch, pressing the blanket into your face to muffle your tiny screams. His thumbs dug into the spot just above your hipbones while his fingers clawed into the front of your hips, emitting ticklish shocks through your entire torso with every squeeze of his fingers. He chuckled softly at your reaction, easily covered up by a round of laughter from the others as some comedic stunt occurred on screen. You tried to tap out, frantically pushing at his hands with one of your own. He ignored your silent pleas for a few more moments, clearly proud of himself for having made you a giggling, squirming mess in his arms.

Loki, like you, was not interested in answering questions from the other Avengers, and so he finally relented when he realized your struggle was beginning to become more violent. You melted into his side, taking sharp, shallow breaths as you came down from your state of euphoria. It was precious to him, how you collapsed so heavily into his arms after he’d just tormented you. He wrapped his arm around you further and tugged you to sit up a bit more comfortably against his side, resting a firm hand on your belly. You reached over and covered his hand with your own, brushing your thumb along his knuckles. Leaning your head back into his chest, you let out a deep, contented sigh that made his heart skip.

There would be questions after the movie, but not because anyone witnessed the sweet torture Loki had put you through. It was hard not to notice how you’d buried yourself against his side for the entirety of the movie. And, more importantly, it was hard to ignore the foreign, soft smile on Loki’s face.

Part 4: You are Wonderful

[bukguhope]

CLICHÉ | jjk 09

“how cliché”

“just pretend, you owe me”

summary: pretending to date never ended badly right? especially when a dark secrets involved

themes: jungkook x f.reader, enemies to lovers, childhood friends, mature

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the door to jungkooks apartment swings open with force, hitting the wall beside it as you drag the owner of the place inside. he's stumbling all over the place and you huff as he flops onto his couch. the sight all to familiar, just like when tae called you over. you walk over to him led face first of the sofa and kneel down.

"jungkook, get changed and go to bed okay? iam going" you say before standing and went to head out the already open door

"iam not back with lily"

he mumbles, face mushed into a pillow, you sigh knowing he's going to keep talking. closing the door you walk back over and kneel back down "she called me one day crying because she and that namjoon guy broke up. so i comforted her and she spent day after day with me. but she lied. she was with him the whole time" you shake your head at his confession, she and namjoon. were the same person they deserved each other. jungkook's sudden light sobs brought you out of your thoughts and you quickly placed a hand on his back

"hey don't cry, it's just the alcohol"

"y/n why does every woman just use me. am i not enough?" you were really hurt at this, you felt so bad for him especially for what you did.

"stop it jungkook you're more then enough. no one is good enough for you" he turns his head on the couch and looks to you as you continue to stroke his back.

"do you really think that?" he asks and you give him a gentle smile

"yes i do. now, do you want to go to bed?" you ask and he nods at you with a cute pout on his lips. he scrambles to his feet and you hold his waist to attempt to keep him stable. taking him to his room you help him sit on his bed and he always around making you chuckle slightly. suddenly you're phone begins to buzz and it quite late at this point and you wonder who it could be. getting your phone from the shoulder bag you were you noticed it was your father calling. "ok iam going to take this call, try and get changed alright?" you say softly as you exit the room and answer the call

"hi sweety iam sorry it's probably late over there right?" he asks and you open your mouth to reply but some light crashing sounds come from the room behind you, jungkook cursing to go along with it.

"hi it's fine not too late what did you call for?"

"well, some very exciting news. i got a new job, back where you are!" your heart leaped. what did this mean? and of course the universe just had to place you with a drunk jungkook as you received this news. yes, you knew you were supposed to be excited for your father but all you could think about was that he wasn't working for lily's mother anymore, which opened up a lot of possibilities.

"oh uh congratulations dad that's... amazing"

"yes we're all very excited down here. after working at the same place all these years iam excited to move on" you were trying your best to listen but all your mind could think about was what this meant for you. you could you finally tell jungkook the truth. "well i better let you go, mum says hi"

"tell her hi too i miss you all very much. let me know the details as soon as you find it all out" you say and your dad says his goodbyes and you hang up the phone. putting your phone away you just stood outside of jungkook's room and let your thoughts rack your brain. you suddenly felt nervous. after al these years would you really be able to tell him the truth? would he even believe you? your thoughts were cut off as a voice called out for you

"y/n i need help!" jungkook whined out and you turn around and walk in to see him sat on the edge of his bed, pyjama trousers on but his top was tangled above his head and inside out. you couldn't help but let out a smile.

"iam here hang on" you say as you pull the top off the ends of his arm and away from his head. your face to face with him now and are stuck starting into his eyes. then he gives you the biggest smile, one you haven't see since you were a kid. you couldn't help how fast your heart began to beat. standing up straight and away from his gaze you fold the top so it's the right way around and slip it over his head and pushing his arms through the holes. you the pull it so it covers his torso. "shall we go brush your teeth now?" you ask softly as he now closes his eyes, almost falling asleep sat up. he nods though and you grab his hands, gently pull him up and taking him to his bathroom. "i'll wait outside for-"

"no, you have to help" he mutters cutting you off and you don't argue with him. you find his toothbrush and put some toothpaste on it before handing it to him and he sloppily began to brush his teeth. after some minutes he finishes up and you pick up a towel and wipe his mouth off. then, without thinking, you wet you hands and begin to wipe his face. he smiles and leans into your touch making you halt your actions.

"okay let's get you to bed drunky" you lead him out to his bedroom and pull his covers down so he can get into bed. once he did you tuck him in and make sure he's comfortable. as watch him, you couldn't help but just want to tell him everything but you knew in this drunken state he wouldn't be able to register or even remember a word you say. you couldn't help but think how often you were helping this man while drunk "goodnight jungkook" you say but before you can stand he reaches out and grabs your wrist

"y/n, you r-really hurt me. will you ever tell me what i did to make you leave?" he was making it so difficult to keep everything to yourself but in this state, he wouldn't be able to retain anything or have a civilised conversation

"jungkook, you didn't do anything okay? you'll know eventually but you need to sleep first alright?" you explain and he nods letting go of your wrist and putting his arm back under the covers.

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

"were his friends hot?"

"hoseok!" you scold as you sit next to him on your sofa after finishing telling him the whole events of the previous day "is that you're all you are going to take from that story?" you ask and he chuckles at you

"sorry, so you are gonna tell him right?" you sigh at this, it was all you had been thinking about since you got home from jungkook's that night. the whole time you rode your uber home you were just debating whether or not to tell jungkook everything.

"i-i don't know" hoseok gives you a look as if you’re insane and you slump into the back of your sofa

"after all these years you finally get to tell him the truth, but you don't know if you going to? what kind of bullshit is that?"

"i just, what if he doesn't believe me. it's not like i have proof that lily said any of this. plus he's totally head over heels, it's my word versus hers. i don't know if i could deal with that" your friend nods besides you, somewhat understanding your side of the story.

"but y/n does that matter?" you give him a confused look and he continues "if he believes you or not you can still get it off your chest. then it's up to him to decide. plus it's not like you got anything to lose, it's not like he talks to you at the moment anyway" you huff at his words but you agree. it was just that you held on to this for so many years, you wouldn't even know where to begin to explain yourself. suddenly a knock on the door distracts you from your thoughts. "who's that? hoseok asks

"hold on let me just use my x-ray vision to see through the door" you say sarcastically and squint at the door, your friend roles his eyes as you stand to open the door "oh tae hi" you greet and open the door for him to step in. he gets a little shocked to see hoseok sat on the sofa

"sorry i didn't know you had company"

"oh he's not company that's just hoseok"

"gee thanks y/n" hoseok replies before standing and smiling at taehyung as you shut the door "iam her best friend, hoseok. nice to meet you" he smiles extending his hand and taehyung returns the smile and closes his hand in you friends

"iam taehyung" he introduces himself and you all take a seat in your living room

"so what do i owe this pleasure?" you ask towards tae

"well i wanted to see how you felt after last night, jungkook was such an ass" you laugh at this and shake your head, he was right but of course everyone in the room knew exactly the reason why he was being like that.

"iam good thank you. he was fine once i got him back. and well, actually i got some news" you start and tae stares in wait for you to carry on and hoseok gives you a strange look

"does he know about, the thing?" hoseok asks and you remember you never told him that you opened up to tae about the situation. you nod yes and carry on

"my father, he's not going to work for lily's mother anymore" tae looks stunned at the news, eyes going wide

"well that's great go tell him" he urges and his enthusiasm makes hoseok chuckle

"id love to but-"

"but what?" tae asks and you sigh looking between hoseok and him starting at you

"he won't believe me. what reason does he have to? i disappear for five years, after sleeping with him and it's all his ex girlfriends fault? who would believe that?" you explain and tae nods slowly, his brain ticking.

"let's get evidence then" he states and you give him a confused look and so does hoseok "what it's not impossible, get lily to say something incriminating and secretly record it" he shrugs making you smile and shake your head

"what's this an action film? tae that would never work" you state but hoseok speaks before tae can defend his idea

"no no he has a point." your friends leans forward, deep in thought "you say he won't believe you so he needs evidence. get her to say what she did and record with your phone in your pocket" he says and taehyung gives him a big smile while agreeing, you look at disbelief between the pair

"i need better friends" you mumble but you were warming to the idea. but the things jungkook has said to you recently have made you think maybe it was best you weren't in each other's life's. he clearly wanted lily so much and you didn't want to ruin that love he felt for her. whether she caused him the heart ache in the beginning or not he clearly wants her, she was clearly there for him. "guys it's better that i stay away" the pair of them look at you in bewilderment "he clearly has such an attachment to lily, i don't want to ruin that for him"

"oh fuck off y/n" you look over at tae in shock and hoseok laughs besides you "how many times do i have to tell you, it's unhealthy. he doesn't love her, iam sure he doesn't even like her. she's just a coping mechanism" you look down at your hands, unable to look him in the eye at his words. deep down you knew he was right. "look, another reason i came over was because a bunch of people from university are going away next weekend. skiing to be exact. i want to invite you along, hoseok you too. what do you say?" you open your mouth to reply but your, supposedly, best friends beats you to it

"oh we are so there" he beams and you look at him "oh don't look at me like that. we are going, i'll drag you by the hair myself if i have to" tae chuckles at this and pulls some paper from his blazer pocket

"here are all the details, including where we'll meet the coach" you take the papers from him but hoseok rips it form your grasp and begins to look over it excitedly with tae. you inwardly groan, thinking about how long that weekend was going to be.

When the weekend arrived, you stood with tae and hoseok at the meeting spot for the coach to trip with your suitcase by your side, you sigh already knowing it was going to be a long weekend. you booked off monday from work as you knew you'd be too exhausted to go straight back in since your return is on sunday. now it was friday afternoon, and you were stood on a bus stop in the freezing cold as your two friends messed around with each other. they were surprisingly already close. in the distance you notice a large coach coming round the corner.

"guys get ready" you state and point over to the coach nearing the stop. once it does the driver comes out and opens the storage doors for you guys to put your luggage in with the others.

"we're the last stop guys, from here it's straight to the resort" tae announces excitedly and bounces on to the coach, you chuckle and follow hoseok as he goes on next. once tae was up the stairs you heard cheers coming from the coach. and once you were up you saw him giving high fives as he walked down the aisle. you looked around and noticed it was mainly guys, about 15 all together and some with their girlfriends it seems. at the back you notice all the guys from taes exhibition were there. then you locked eyes with him, jungkook. sat in the middle of the back seats. you look away quickly as you could

"y/n come sit with me" it was surprisingly yoongi that called out to you, he was on a sit by the window just in front of the back seats. you smile, a little confused but walked over to him. seems as tae and hoseok already cozied up together on the seats next to the one where yoongi was, you sit next to him and he offers a little smile. you felt a bit awkward as you were just in front of where jungkook sat

"hi yoongi, nice to see you again"

"nice to see you aswell y/n" and with that the coach fired up and we began moving forward, small cheers filled the coach and it made you chuckle thinking it felt like a school trip. after about thirty minutes in and non stop chatting, you and yoongi were deep in conversation

"so you're a producer?" you ask and he nods with the proudest smile upon his face.

"yes, my family are actually pretty well known in the music industry. i suppose that helped me a lot" you shake your head at this

"stop iam sure what you make is great, your parents have nothing to do with your talent" he looks at you with slightly wide eyes and a sight blush. "do you maybe, have any of your work i could listen to?" you ask and he rushes to get his phone out of his pocket along with his earphones. he was so adorable you thought to yourself. handing you an earphone you pop it in and he puts the other one in his.

"so i made this one about three years ago" he states before pressing play and a really nice soft beat begins to play and you nod your head along. there's a sudden beat change but it's still soft and you look over, impressed

"wow this is amazing, you're super talented" you nudge his shoulder and he chuckles shaking his head at the compliment. in an instant you're distracted as a loud voice booms from behind you

"you shut your fucking dirty mouth doyoung!" you whip your head around, recognising the voice as jungkooks. he had a man near him up by the collar and everyone around them was pulling them apart.

"woah woah, jungkook back off not now" jin warns and jungkook let's go of the man with a huff and sitting back down "doyoung move to the front" the older demands and the guy smirks before walking off to a different seat. everyone breaks off into their own chatter and you turn back to yoongi, he's already looking at you with confusion. - yeah, definitely going to be a long weekend, you thought.

***

once everyone gets off the coach, jin pulls jungkook to the side while everyone gets their luggage.

"you need to chill" he begins and jungkook rolls his eyes at him.

"what? he was saying disgusting shit" the younger replies and his friend nods, he agreed with him but his behaviour was not okay.

"i know, it must not be nice to hear that about a childhood friend but-" he was immediately cut off

"got nothing to do with her" jungkook mumbles and jin raises an eyebrow at him. he wasn't convinced, he knew jungkook liked to play knight in shining armour but he wouldn't get that angry over just any girl

~~~

"god the things i'd do to that girl" doyoung states making jungkook looks over to him

"her there, next to yoongi" jungkook eyes wonder over to where he was staring and saw you, earphone in and talking to yoongi. he looks back to doyoung

"shut up” jungkook huffs and doyoung chuckles

"what? iam so getting her drunk tonight, she seems like someone who can't say no after a couple drinks." jungkook felt heat rise from his chest, all he could think about was punching the guy next to him until he was no longer conscious

"you shut your dirty fucking mouth doyoung!"

~~~

"jungkook, just ignore him the rest of the trip. and have a good time" jin smiles before walking off and his friends walks over to get his luggage as he looks around he finds himself looking for someone. looking for you. and he spots you, smiling and laughing as hoseok and taehyung were throwing snow at you and each other. a small smile breaks out on his lips before someone makes their way over to you. he watches with a frown as doyoung taps you on the shoulder, offering his hand for you to shake which you did. his shoulders tensed and he had to stop himself from storming over there. it was going to be a long weekend, he thought before dragging his luggage past everyone and to the entrance of the lodge.