#still wasn't done after that day i spent every minute i could spare in the last two days to get this done | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-brant · 3 years

Text

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #i'm gonna miss these dorks #🥺#I love how he tries to break up with her and she’s like ‘no❤️’#also totally do not put on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift during the childhood flashbacks unless u wanna cry #cause I did and my sensitive ass was crying #that song is about John B and JJ okay #it just is

182 notes · View notes

theduosetter · 3 years

Text

━ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 ║𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐨

☆ Pairing: Au!Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

☆ Summary: Two broken hearts never truly heal no matter how many years pass. Maybe because the only person who can heal it is the one who caused the tear.

☆ Warning(s): angst, fluff,

☆ A|N: any feedback is appreciated! If you can please give it a heart or reblog it would really help my writing. Thank you!

Kuroo sighed for what seemed the millionth time today. His mind kept wandering off somewhere else, today felt different. There was something within him saying that today wasn't going to be the same again.

His phone vibrated once more alerting him of another incoming message. The screen lit up with the name Nanami. His lips moved as he saw the words spread out on the white background. Closing his eyes he leaned back against his office chair.

"What's with your face?" a voice spoke.

Kuroo rolled his eyes, "Nothing is wrong with my face, Kenma."

"Liar." he placed the folder down on his desk, "Is it Nanami?"

"No..." he half smiled "She's great actually... things are good between us right now."

"For someone who says that it sure doesn't look like it." Kenma said "Could have fooled me."

He sat up and looked at his friend, "Is there something that still needs to be done?"

Kenma shook his head "No everything important got taken care of."

Standing up he grabbed his blazer and put it on. "If anyone else calls can you take care of it?"

"Ok." before Kuroo could make it out the door, Kenma then asked him "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be alright. See you tomorrow..." he slightly smiled then took off.

Your feet grew tired as you kept walking the busy streets. The sun was just about to set down on the ocean. Even though it was warm, the air was nothing but fresh, the perk of living near coast.

A small smile formed on your lips as you saw kids running around the nearby playground, playing with their friends. It was the purest sound in the world; you thought.

There was never a doubt in your mind that being a mom was a gift. You hoped one day you too would have the chance at raising a mini you or a little boy that looked like your partner.

Your phone then rang. You quickly took it out of your bag and accepted the call.

"Hey love." you said "I'm on my way back home."

"I can't wait to see you." he said, making your chest tighten "I might be preparing something delicious for tonight."

"Really?" you asked "What's the occasion?"

He smiled, leaning back against the sink. "What, I can't just do something special for the love of my life?"

Your smile faltered as you remembered those words. Those were the ones that hurt you the most, even after almost 10 years.

"Of course you can." you replied "Can I have a hint on what it may be?"

"You would figure it out right away like last time. I'm not making that mistake again." he chuckled.

"It was one time, h/n." you smiled small, "Do you need me to bring something home from the store? I'm close to it."

"Pick out any drink you want to have and dessert if you'd like."

"Okay now I'm really curious about what you have up your sleeve, boy." you chuckled.

He bit his lip, smiling as he heard your laughter. "Don't take too long, alright?"

"I'll do my best love since it is rush hour. Wait for me?"

"Like you have to ask." he leaned over checking the food "I can't wait to see you. Text me when you get to the station."

"I will, love." you bid him goodbye and hung up.

It's sad how he has tried his best to make you happy and yet there's never a moment where something doesn't remind you of him. All these years you still wonder about how he's doing with his new partner. If he could accomplish the goals he had set out for himself. Even the thought if he maybe... still thought about you like you did.

Sighing, you shook your head "Stop it... you can't keep doing this to him. You're with h/n now not with him, he chose you agreed. No more second guessing." You mumbled.

You were about to turn left at the end of the playground when a stranger collided into you. Your feet slipped from underneath you. The bar that was put up around the playground was too far away for you to hold on to. Folding your elbows back, you opened your hands wide so you could stop your head from hitting the pavement.

Lucky enough, the tall stranger reacted in time and pulled you into him to avoid you injuring yourself. "I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah... I'm fine..." you replied "That was close- wow I almost fell-" you tilted your head up and your breathing stopped.

The stranger kept their arm around your back, holding you against his chest. His eyes roamed the details on your face, from your eyes to shape of your lips. His heart was pounding against his chest, not believing you were in front of him.

"K-Kuroo..." you muttered.

"Y/n... I never thought I'd see you here." his brain couldn't wrap around the idea that you were here.

Realizing your chest was too close to his, you gently stepped back. Your cheeks flushed "I- um... I-I work around here."

"Right..." he mumbled "I thought you had stayed in Tokyo, is all."

"I got a job offer awhile back." You said "I've been living here ever since. What about you?..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling shy suddenly. "I'm working with a company on a project along with Kenma."

"Wow... I knew Kenma was in town but didn't think you'd be here as well."

His head shot up "You spoke to Kenma?"

"Yeah..." you answered "He reached out to me and asked if we could meet up. I've been busy so I haven't had the chance..."

"Why didn't Kenma say anything to me?..." there was hurt in his eyes from the sudden news. "I thought Kenma of all people-"

You cut him off "I told Kenma that I didn't want you knowing. Don't blame him..."

"I see..."

The cars passed by, not knowing or caring about the two ex lovers on the sidewalk. Every person was moving on with their lives, focusing on getting home to their families.

You tried your best to calm your emotions. It was difficult to keep the facade up. Your body was itching to be again in his arms. "I should get going... goodbye Kuroo." you walked passed him hoping to forget you ever saw him.

However, Kuroo didn't want to let you go again this time. "Y/n, wait!" he yelled as he ran after you.

"He's not calling my name..." you repeated under your breath "He's not calling my name." Ignoring the loud sounds coming from the cars, you crossed the street.

"Y/n!" Kuroo yelled louder as he reached for you and held your wrist gently in his hand.

Looking over your shoulder, you made eye contact. "What are you doing, Kuroo?..."

"We need to talk." he gently spoke "It's been too many years."

"There's nothing to say about anything." you looked into his eyes "We both have our different lives, let's focus on that okay?"

"I don't want to walk away from you and regret it for the rest of my life again." Kuroo begged, "Please, give me a few minutes to talk with you...please."

Looking down at your watch, you saw you had some minutes to spare. "Okay..."

He let go of you, "Come on, I know where we should go." you followed him to the nearby bridge that was above an intersection along with shops down the street. You walked up the stairs and sat down on a bench that was in the middle of the two stairways.

It was awkward. As the seconds passed by, all you could think of were the things you wanted to say but felt afraid of saying it out loud. You were timid when it came to expressing how you felt since you were in high school. Yet when you met Kuroo that barrier was destroyed only for it to be rebuilt again a few years later.

"What did you need to tell me?" you asked, playing with your fingers.

"I'm sorry for how we ended things." your movement stopped "I thought back then that it was for the best. I didn't want to continue fighting every time with you. The amount of times we ended up apart became more frequent than the times we had ever spent together." His gazed was fixed on ground feeling too vulnerable to look at you "I didn't want to keep hurting you."

"I can't believe- why now?" you asked "Was that the reason you chose? You didn't want to stay and fixed things so you let me go?"

"We couldn't make things better and you know that y/n." he answered "Every time we tried it put distance between us more and more."

You closed your eyes trying to not let the tears fall "It's the fact that you lost hope in us that hurt Kuroo, not the breakup."

"It hurt me too..." he explained "But it hurt me more knowing you were suffering and not giving you the happiness that you deserved."

"I didn't care..." you sniffled "All I wanted was to be with you and solved it together. I kept on trying to find an answer as to what I did that was so wrong that made you leave me."

"What are you talking about-"

"You seriously don't remember?" you looked at him "The things you said to me that day... when I asked you why and all you said was because I didn't love you anymore, I don't want to stay by you. It's for the best Y/n go find your own life and forget about me."

He looked away, closing his eyes tightly. "I didn't mean to sound harsh..."

"But you did." you wiped away your tears "What hurt was the fact that you acted happy the last few days with me then suddenly... you ripped it off like a bandaid Kuroo..."

"I know..." he said "I know I fucked up- I kept thinking back every day after what happened."

You got up from the bench "Why did you pretend you were happy with me?"

"I wasn't pretending!" he exclaimed, getting up as well. "I was happy being with you."

"Could have fooled me... because knowing this now and you not remembering what you told me makes it harder to believe anything you say!"

"I need you. Trust me when I say that I still love you y/n." he stated.

"I-I can't..." you muttered, covering your face.

You were a sobbing mess, and it broke his heart that he was hurting you again when he vowed never to. Kuroo stepped forward slowly, trying to approach you.

"Please don't cry..." he said.

"I'm just tired of this... feeling this vulnerable and thinking about you," you admitted, "when I should focus on my future and not on the past..."

Kuroo stood in front of you, "Do you still love me?..." you didn't answer. He carefully took your hands into his own as he uncovered your face. "Do you still love me?..." he repeated himself.

His touch was arm, your head was dizzy. It's been so long since you were this close to him again. 'Did I still love him?' you thought, trying to figure out the answer on your own.

He gently wiped away your tears, "Because I haven't stopped Y/n... no matter where I'm going or who I'm with my mind goes back to you."

"Where was this 7 years ago?" you questioned "This love and worry you have about me? How you don't want to see me walk away from you again. Why did you show it too late to me? I wasted so much time wondering over someone who never once batted an eye to me when I saw you on campus those two years after our break up. I almost failed because my emotions were all over the place. If it hadn't been for the friends I had I wouldn't have moved on. Now you suddenly see me again one day and you confess you still love me? When you had chance after chance to tell me but chose not to." you clenched your jaw "You don't get to comeback and tell me you love me... it's not fair."

"I lived with the ache in my chest whenever I saw someone or something that reminded me of you. Out of all the y/n's in the world and each time someone said your name I turned around it hopes it was you but came empty every time it was a stranger." he breathed out trying to not break down in front of you but it became impossible. His voice cracked "I-I... still wish everyday that it had been you... y-you by my side a-and not someone else..."

"I wished we had met when we were older and wiser..." you whispered "Maybe then... this pain wouldn't exist within us."

He held your hand to his chest holding it tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to memorize your warmth. "We didn't know what to do... we were young and naive thinking love was such an easy thing to feel." he sniffled "It would be so easy... so damn e-easy... to say I'm sorry and start all over again. To go back to the days where were in l-love... without any problems..."

In all your years you had known Kuroo it was such a rare sight for him to cry and breakdown in front of you. After years, you were surprised to see he didn't feel shy or embarrassed of showing it to you again. It's like he had grown.

Gently you cupped his right cheek and he leaned into your touch. "I still do love you Kuroo..." you confessed "It scares me that I haven't been able to move on without you."

"I'm so sorry..." the pool of tears he held in his eyes were finally escaping "Maybe things would have worked o-out... if we had- no I had expressed my feelings earlier and told you how I felt from the beginning. If I had opened up myself up to you more and not runaway from the only person that had ever made me feel a whole. But I can't... I-I can't turn back time that was then and t-this is now..."

It was late. Yet hearing those words that you had dreamed for years to happen finally did. Life was definitely funny sometimes. One day you can keep convincing yourself you don't need that person that you're fine without them, then have it change with one interaction.

Smiling weakly you wiped away his tears. He smiled small feeling your thumb gently move against his cheek. "I can't believe I'm saying this but..." a chuckle escaped your lips "After all we've been through and still you make my heart beat like a teenager all over again."

"I would do anything to see you smile, Y/n." his eyes shined brightly as the sun's light reflected off his hazel orbs.

Your faces began to grow closer to one another. The space that was in between you two got shorter the longer you stared into each other's eyes.

"There's not anything else in this world that makes me happy as you do, y/n." he said.

Your foreheads gently rested against one another. His hands held your own tightly and brought them up to his lips. It made your stomach grow butterflies again.

Closing your eyes you focused on his touch not on the sounds of traffic. "I’d have my heart broken all over again if it meant that I could have those first six months with you."

He added "Those were the best months of my life."

Your phone then vibrated with messages coming in all at once. Kuroo freed one of your hands, you unlocked your device to see they were from h/n.

"Shoot..." you bit your lip.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"My...um boyfriend... is asking where I am..." you answered feeling conflicted as to what would be the best thing to do.

"You call him and reassure him you're okay." he said "If I was in his place I'd be worried too."

You were surprised by how mature he was, nodding you dialed his number. After a few seconds h/n picked up. Kuroo stood by your side and waited for you to finish.

"Y/n! Where are you I've been worried sick!" he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry... I saw a friend and they needed to talk to me. I didn't mean to make you worry." you explained.

He breathed out in relief knowing you were okay. "It's okay, I'm glad you're okay. Are you on your way back home or are you still with them?"

"I'm still with them I didn't realize it would take long. But I'll be going to the station soon to grab the last train home." you answered.

"Alright, are you sure you don't want me to go pick you up?" he asked "I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"No don't worry I'll be home soon. I'll make sure to keep you posted okay?"

"Okay, please be careful. I love you." he said.

"I will, see you soon." you hung up then looked at him. "I should get going, Kuroo."

"I understand." he kissed your forehead softly "You don't owe me an explanation okay? Let's take it one step at a time. And if you still want to see me then I'll be here waiting for you. Like I should have done in the beginning."

Your heart swelled with joy that you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He smiled softly hugging you back tightly, "I missed you so much." you spoke burying your face in his neck.

"I missed you too, Y/n." he rested his chin on top of your head "Can I take you home?"

"I'd like that."

It didn't matter how long it took, he wasn't going to mess this second chance he had with you. He would wait a year if he needed to to be alongside you again. You were his world.

#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo testuro x reader #kuroo x reader #hq kuroo #hq!! x reader #hq!! scenarios #hq angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu blog #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x self insert #hq!! fluff #kuroo tetsuro

121 notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 8

Helmut Zemo was waiting outside of the airport with his car. He parked as close as he could to the doors, right where you should be able to see him when you came out.

It had been a month. You had gone back home to sort out your affairs, with the help of your darling friend Wanda Maximoff, and had done everything you needed to. Things you had sent over were now tucked away safely at home.

Your home. The one you would now share with him.

He checked his watch for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. He had closed up the restaurant today, wanting to spend it all with you. He just wanted you back in his arms.

Every time the doors opened he would wat h the crowds with Ken eyes, waiting. Yet, you hadn't come out. He sighed as he waits.

Both you and Wanda assured him you would arrive in time. You were even bringing another friend to stay a while.

Over the last month you had been constantly messaging and calling one another. Mostly about all these plans you had cor the restaurant, but also about the two of you.

Helmut promised that once you had moved in, he would spoil you. He was going to make you so very happy.

The doors opened again. His eyes focused on the crowd. His heart began to race and his lips curled into a smile.

There you were. Just as beautiful as he remembered.

Your eyes found his. Friends instantly forgotten, you run toward him. Helmut pushes off his car, opens his arms wide, and meets you about halfway. You collide into him. His arms are instantly wrapped around you and his lips claim yours.

Wanda and Natasha stand by, watching you.

Natasha had heard lots about this Helmut Zemo. Though Wanda was your best friend, Natasha was a special friend too. She was protective over you and wanted to meet the man who had stolen your heart.

Wanda coughs loudly.

You pull away from Zemo, but kept your arms around him, turning to look at your friends with a sheepish smile.

Helmut wasn't even looking at your friends. He could see only you.

"This is Natasha, my other friend. I've told her all about you," you say, looking at him.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, glancing at her. She nods.

"Likewise."

His eyes turns back to you and he has that goofy smile on his face again. He unlocks the car and let's you all in, obviously with you sitting upfront with him.

"Any news on Stark?" You ask, once the car sets off.

"He is doing well. His restaurant is a success."

"And Escorpión Morado?"

"Still open."

You don't like the look on his face or the tone of his voice.

"Helmut?"

He glances at you.

"Stark is stealing my customers. Business is declining and I don't think we have much time before it's out of control."

You look at him, lips tugging into a frown.

"Good thing I'm here then."

He glances at you again, his own lips curling into a smile.

"Yes. It is."

He drives you to the apartment, the girls follow you both up to where Zemo lives and you all enter the main living space.

"My new home."

Helmut comes up behind you and snakes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He kisses your cheek and then rests his head in your shoudler.

"Our home."

Wanda taps Natasha on the shoulder and they make their leave, going to stay at the hotel. Once the door closes behind them, Helmut turns you around and kisses you again.

"Welcome home."

You smile softly.

"Thank you."

You were a Sokovian citizen now. It was a lot more straightforward than you had thought.

You're very happy to be here.

"So, the restaurant. I take it it's not open today."

"No. I let Sam and James have the day off so I could meet you and bring you home. Your things are in your room."

"Thank you, but still, are you prepared to go through with this?" You ask.

"Yes. Help me save my restaurant. I need you."

You smile.

"I know you do."

You take both of his hands in yours and hold them, squeezing them lightly.

He smiles handsomely at you. He's never felt so lucky in his life before.

"Where do you want to get started?" You ask.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, obviously the menu is important, but what if we start planning the new look for your restaurant. Let's show Stark that with have both good taste in food and interior design. I was doing some shopping and found a fee things. Want to check them out?"

He nods. You ask him to take a seat while you fetch your laptop. You open it on the table in front of you, as you sit next to him.

You're sitting nice and close. His arm settled right next to yours. His knee nudges yours lightly as he rests his elbows on his open lap.

You open up all the tabs you had saved.

"You really have been doing your research," he chuckles.

"I have. New furniture, new floors, new decor and lights. You can pick everything, it is your restaurant. Remember, we're not replacing the restaurant, we are sprucing it up, giving it a new look."

He smiles softly as he looks at you.

"Well, take a look, Helmut."

He turns his eyes back to the laptop, wishing to look at you little longer. He scrolls theough the choices and you make notes on all the things he likes. You help him because what looks good with what, and before you know, you can almost see how it will look.

A couple hours later you get a message on your phone.

Wanda: Breaking in the mattress yet? ;)

You: OMG, WANDA, STOP!

Wanda: What have you been doing then?

You: Redesigning the restaurant. What about you and Nat?

Wanda: Drinks!

You roll your eyes and reply:

You: Not surprised. Have fun! See you later.

You put your phone down and ignore any incoming messages after that.

"Are you hungry?" Helmut asks, raising from the sofa.

"Yeah, actually."

He holds out his hand. You take it and let him pull you up and lead you into the kitchen. He only let's go of your hand to grab his apron and put it on. He then, very smoothly, moves around the kitchen grabbing ingredients.

"What are you making?"

"Schnitzel," he grins at you.

"Is there anything you can't cook?" You chuckle. It's very clear this man has done some globe trotting of his own.

"Many things, but I can also make many things too," he winks at you as he sets up a pan, ready for cooking.

You come to stand beside him. He presents two pieces of pork which he quickly works on pounding thinly. He sprinkles them with salt and pepper.

"Have you ever had schnitzel?"

"No. Which I should be ashamed of considering I have been to Germany."

"Then it will be my honour to give you your ever first!"

You chuckle softly.

He slides over to the empty space of his counter and puts down a bowl and two plates. One plate with flour and salt, the bowl with eggs which he let's you beat, and the final plate with breadcrumbs.

This man's own kitchen is stocked with everything he could need. As you look at him in his own kitchen, which you suppose you can also call your own now, you realise just how much he loves cooking.

"I'll do the first one, you can do the second one, alright?"

You nod.

You watch as he picks up the first piece of pork. He coats it in flour on both side, then into the egg on both sides, and then into the breadcrumbs. He shakes off any excess and pops it into the pan he prepared.

"You next."

You pick up the other piece and do exactly as he had done. Into the flour, into the egg, into the breadcrumbs. You shake off the excess like he had done and he steps back as you place it in the pan.

What you didn't expect was for him to cage you in. He lifts one of your hands to the pan and stands right behind you as you now both cook.

You can hear his soft breathing in your ear. The hand he has resting on your hip make your spine tingle. You're very much aware of how close he is to you.

His lips brush against your ear.

You shiver involuntarily.

He chuckles softly, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Before you can think too much about what he's doing, he promptly take the schnitzel out of the pan and onto a plate with paper towels on it. He leaves you rather quickly, going to pick up some leafy salad from fridge.

You take a deep breath and try to keep your composure. God, the way he makes you feel!

He returns and plates up the schnitzel, slicing a lemon and placing the slices on top of each one, serving with a bit of the salad.

He turns to you with a smile.

"Schnitzel."

You chuckle and take one of the plates. You both sit down and tuck in. Once again you're left blown away by this man's skill, but there was also the fact you helped.

Zemo makes a low moan after eating some of his.

"This is good."

"I should hope so, you made it."

He chuckles, looking at you.

"Actually you did. This is the one you prepared."

You look down at his plate. He had purposely taken the one you had done. You smile softly.

"You're eating my one?"

"Yes."

You bite your lip shyly. Once again he leaves you a shy blushing mess.

When you finished eating, Helmut cleaned up, though you did make a fuss about helping him. After losing that little argument, you headed to your room.

For a spare room it was big enough for you. You could fit in quite nicely here. You unpacked your cases and spent a bit of time planning on where this is would go or what you would need to buy. This was your space. You would make it your own.

A knock on the door had you sitting up on your bed. Your handsome chef enters the room and smiles at you.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"I like it."

Helmut sits down on the bed with you and pus you into his side. You cuddle against him, feeling content.

"I'll get to see you every day now."

You chuckle softly.

"Yes. Lucky bastard, aren't you?"

"I'd say so."

You kiss him softly. He places a hand on your cheek and looks at you with the softest gaze.

He almost wants to say it.

He doesn't.

Not yet.

You smile softly as you close your eyes and sit with him in the quiet room.

Today is the beginning of the next chapter of your lives.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @swooning-for-mc-avoy @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #marvel #au #chef zemo au

107 notes · View notes

compo67 · 2 years

Text

Updates: The Extended Edition

This year continues to feel so surreal.

January: I started working on my kid's book, doing thumbnails, storyboards, and pencils. My beta K and I finished and published our Lobster fic. My family decided to start hospice for my grandma and I became a hospice nurse and primary point of contact. I made meals in the morning and family friends kept us fed in the evenings. I was also still working throughout this.

February: We had some good days with my grandma, but the decline was obvious. I continued to manage everything about hospice and learned basic nursing skills/tasks. We got my grandma her first covid vaccine, a huge relief to everyone. During my shifts, I became a vaccine hunter for the Chicago group. From Feb to March, I helped 30+ people secure vaccine appointments. I worked on book outlines and the cover. I was still working.

March: Everyone in our household got their first vaccine. We all had to drive 1 hour each way to get them, and get them in shifts in case anyone had side effects. I finally went on leave from work. My mom threw out her back, my sister and I powered through 3 days with just the two of us. Some of the most painful hospice moments happened. We had two good days before the beginning of the end. Memita passed on the 24th, 15 minutes after I left for my second vaccine dose. The social worker said some people hang on to wait for family to arrive, some people hang on for some people to leave. I didn't think it would be me. But that was so like my grandma to spare me from additional trauma. My mom was there with her. Beta K helped me research funeral homes and I managed it from there. I don't remember the first few days, I just know I was exhausted and the grief hit hard.

April: I went back to work in the second week. I could not financially afford to take more time off work. I thought I needed to get back to my routine so I could move on. Mid-April, I physically hit a wall and spent the majority of the time bed/recliner bound. I slowly started to get back to my doctors' offices now that I had my second vaccine. I started working on the book again. I was still working, often having to strap myself into my office chair because I could not physically hold myself up. I had more and more MCAD flare ups with allergies and flushing. Taking 2x the amount of anti-histamines I'm used to really took a lot of getting used to.

May: One of my doctors encouraged me to take a break from work. I insisted that I needed the routine and the money. I also dove into working on the book, because I missed deadlines from March to April and my publisher wasn't giving me any leeway with the deadline to go to print. I had to complete one spread (2 full color pages) every two days--hand drawn and painted. I also had to scan these images in a very careful order, plus do background washes. I worked on pages during calls, on my breaks, and with any free/spare time I had. I was still working. I had doctors appointments every Monday for the whole month, with ones in between, plus massages and acupuncture treatments. My first liver MRI of the year came back stable, which is neutral news. Not any better, not any worse. My birthday was at the end of the month and I took the weekend off from the book. It was one of the most difficult birthdays I've had because it was my first without my grandma. I went to a bookstore, the Bahai temple, and the library that day.

June: I finished the book. I feel simultaneously proud and resentful of it. I just wanted it to be done. I started experiencing rapid cycling manic-depressive behavior. Mid-June, I realized, one day, that I hadn't showered in 4 days, hadn't slept more than a handful of hours, and felt like I could still keep working without breaks. I finally saw my psychiatrist and I started mood stabilizers. I bought a car so I could get to and from appointments or to the library. I refocused on work. I started watching the C-drama, The Untamed, with my friends. Things were okay.

July: Actually, a decent month. More appointments. Still working.

August: New RA symptoms show up and the flare to end all flares begins, though I don't know it at the time. Rheumatologist tells me I'm doing myself harm by using a patchwork approach. Inflammation markers are super high and I need to start a new long-term medication instead of doing bursts of prednisone here and there. Publisher asks for edits to pages they previously approved AND would take a substantial amount of time to do. Still working, trying to pick up more hours to make up for the income I lost in the beginning of the year. Finished The Untamed, loved it. I made chocolate chip cookies, the first thing I baked since last year. Drove to South Bend, IN, where I met someone we I would come to refer to later as Theater Douchebag. (Yep.) But. I had a nice weekend at the time. Hit an emotional wall Labor Day Weekend with more rapid cycling, but managed to house sit for the gals and work through it that weekend. Still working. I call a graduate school I'm interested in on a whim, just to ask more questions about their Health Communication program. I dream about starting in January 2022 or August 2022. The program advisor offers me admission on the spot without even having applied. I dance and scream for joy--and I accept. I take only one class because it's all I can afford, my parents and a friend pay 50%. I start school and love the class, all the way to the end in October. I thrive in school and it gives me something to look forward to in between work and appointments.

September: Therapist suggested an intensive outpatient program (IOP). I say I'll think about it. Still working. More appointments and treatments, lots of driving. Booster shot, phew. Start making arrangements to try RA medication Remicade via infusion. More RA symptoms pop up. Not sleeping well because can't afford out of pocket CPAP supplies but insurance won't cover them because I'm noncompliant--because I don't have supplies. Finally see a doctor who gave me supplies from their office so I can prove compliance by November. My grandpa visits from California. Three weeks later, he dies suddenly. I still think I can call him at his assisted living facility or send him a care package. We weren't super close, but having just seen him (and how hard he hugged me) made it so much heavier. I help my aunt through that with arrangements and grief support. Still working until mid-September, when work makes changes and doesn't offer promotions to part-timers. My therapist assures me that she'll take care of all the paperwork and I decide: fuck this, I'm going on leave. I exhaust my PTO (not that I had much anyway, because I had to call off for flares so much) and FMLA is unpaid and short-term disability only pays 60%. I crowdfund via friends and family for $1,000 to get me through October and November. Medical bills start to pile up as claims get processed. I start IOP and learn a lot.

October: IOP is wonderful. I connect with my case manager and professor. School is a lifeline and keeps me focused. I start to dip back into writing and fandom. I reread pages of comments in my AO3 inbox. I start watching Word of Honor with the gals. I develop new routines and habits. Mid-October, short-term disability stops paying me because they need more paperwork, but don't actually tell me they need more paperwork until November. More medical bills. Increasingly bed/recliner and home bound from flares. I do well with the first Remicade infusion, which lasts 4 hours. The week after, the flare intensifies and I spend all week in bed. I was thankful for IOP being virtual. Second Remicade infusion causes anaphylaxis. I thought I was going to die at the clinic. They stabilize me without an epi-pen, so after 1 hour of observation + 2 bags of saline, I go home. My heart takes a hit, my autonomic system is thrown off, and the inflammation feels worse. My family members take shifts staying with me for 48 hours after, in case I continue to have a reaction or heart issues. Failure of this treatment really gets to me and I admit to my rheum that I'm ready to stop working for a while, either through long-term disability or SSDI. She's 100% supportive and I start researching my options. I write a bit. I watch new movies and read books. IOP ends and I feel so much better. The improvement is great. I don't feel rushed or pushed out of the nest and I don't have to go back to work until December. Halloween is difficult, first one without my grandma. I don't make an altar this year. I get my flu shot. I visit my oncologist and pass my yearly cancer check with flying colors; in 2 years I'll be able to graduate to appointments every 2 years instead of every 1.

November: Still not paid from STD. Generous folks get me through with finances for monthly bills, medical bills, and insurance premiums. I shakily start a new routine without IOP. On a good pain day, I take myself to a nearby art exhibit. I start knitting again to feel connected to my grandma. I help my mom host a dinner party. I'm still mostly house bound, but my mood about it improves. I keep researching SSDI and grad school for next semester. And then, my momma T dies suddenly. She was a second mom to me. I fly down to TN to be with her family (my family) and attend her funeral services. It is a difficult trip in every way possible, from the flights (being alone and disabled on a flight is awful) to the stay to the grief, and with the risk of Covid. I go because I will always regret it if I don't go. I spend 30 hours there and fly back.

I've stayed with my friends since I got back from TN. I go back home tomorrow, now that I have a negative PCR test.

My rheum and I decided to try Orencia next. I'm still gathering information about it before I actually take it. Rheum says to expect to feel flu-like sick for the first few doses.

My second liver MRI for the year is this Saturday. I don't have to travel into the city this time, which is a big relief. I get to have it done local. Let's hope for good techs. I'm going to treat myself to some nice yarn afterwards (cause it's close to the yarn store).

Got some more year-end appointments coming up, including a meeting with my hEDS doctor and endo. Need to schedule some PT for my left knee, which has early arthritis. I keep going to massages and acupuncture for any relief.

I'm back to writing. Little by little. My hands hurt a lot. Knitting helps keep the dexterity, but that too, requires frequent breaks.

Editing is easier, so I'm doing that more this week.

I've stayed with my friends for 6 days to quarantine and recover from my trip. It's been wonderful. They love me so much, I hope they know how much I love them. We're still working our way through Word of Honor.

I got my first covid test this past Monday. Made it this far not to need one, I am so grateful. Even more grateful that it comes back negative.

I want to focus on settling back in at home this weekend. Take it easy. Watch movies with my sister. Write. Drink cocoa. Put up my Christmas tree because dammit, I need some cheer.

I'm still a hockey fan. Lord, can I talk about hockey.

I took so many notes in IOP, and I'm so glad I did.

Pretty sure I got an A in my grad school class. One class down! I've tried to do grad school twice before and had catastrophic health events that forced me to withdraw/drop out (2013, cancer and 2018, liver disease). I'm not sure I can continue next semester (financially and unsure if I will apply for SSDI), but at least I started and finished one class.

I'm still working through grief. Still trying to accept my health issues and disability. But the mood stabilizer works, IOP was great, and I don't feel so overwhelmed.

So there y'all have it. An overview of what my life has been like in 2021. It's been a lot. I also like to document these things here and read through them in the future, to see how much I've accomplished. These entries are useful in a lot of ways. I think they bring you and I closer, and I get to really think about what has been going on. It's nice to feel connected to my emotions again, even the yucky and uncomfortable ones.

Okay, I'm off to edit a bit more before a break.

Thank you, y'all, for being here and being so kind. Thank you for welcoming me back. Thank you for simply existing. I can't tell you how much I love and appreciate y'all. This fandom is truly life-changing. <3

-Cal

#compo67 #authorial rambles #pls do not reblog #mental health #chronic illnesses #grief #long post is long #cal updates

11 notes · View notes

miss-dr-reid · 3 years

Text

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #8

Warning: some domestic abuse, but nothing gory

On the drive home, my head was filled with memories of yesterday. How cute Spencer was when all he wanted to do was win a game of chess. Pretty much passing out on his lounge while waiting for dinner. Dancing the night away and waking up surrounded by fuzzy, cuddly, Spencer blanket. My heart beat hard, my head filled with joy.

Does Spencer feel this way about me? There's no reason he would. We barely know each other.

I arrived home and jumped straight in the shower. Washing my hair felt so good, I stood there, massaging for a while, relieving my head of the stress from the last week. I scrubbed my body and shaved everything baby smooth.

Stepping out of the shower, I reached for a towel from the rack, grabbed it and patted myself dry. I wrapped it around myself and looked in the mirror, memories of the first night I spent with a guy after leaving my ex.

~ I had arrived home and was finishing up having a shower, I reached for the towel rack, only looking when I couldn't feel one. When I looked, I was surprised to see my ex sitting on the toilet. A look of anger on his face...

"Have a good night?" he retorted.

"Doesn't matter to you, but it was great." I retaliated, hating that he made it in to my house without my knowing.

"As if. No one can make you feel the way that I can. I make you feel so good, baby, don't I?" He said, getting up off the toilet seat, coming toward me, one hand hiding behind his back.

"Fuck off. I don't want you anymore. I already told you." I said, backing up, ripping a folded towel off the counter behind me, "You need to leave, right now." Even though my voice was stern, he was still coming for me.

I didn't want to fight, so I ran, he tried to grab me on my way past, but I was still wet, so I slipped out of his grip. I ran straight for the front door, flinging it open and banging on my neighbours door. She didn't hesitate to open it, seeing me on the other side. I shoved my way in and she locked the door.

We moved away from the door, to her room and she grabbed me a spare shirt, I dropped the towel to put it on and was shocked to see red all over the towel where my hand had been pressed to my chest. I looked up at her who noticed it as well. She was on the phone to emergency serviced and asked for an ambulance to be added to the people on dispatch.

I didn't even realise he had got me as I pushed past him. the adrenaline was pumping through my body. I picked the towel back up and pressed it to myself once again. Waiting. He was banging on the door, demanding to be let in. He left soon after, knowing how this would end if he didn't.

The police arrived after what seemed like forever, followed by the EMT's. They were let into the apartment and the EMT suggested I go to hospital. I opted to get myself there after they deemed that the cut was not bad enough to need emergency surgery. I gave my statement to the police and thanked my neighbour for letting me in to her place so quick. ~

That was the last time I saw him. I moved out 2 weeks after that, changed jobs and finished studying. I looked at myself in the mirror, lowering the towel, lowering the towel, revealing the scar I still have on the outside of my breast, right where it meets my chest.

I covered up and went to my room, deciding what to wear.

'Something nice, but casual enough to walk places.' I tho9ught to myself. I landed on a semi-fitted sun dress and my favourite lime-green bikini. I wore some flats that I was easily able to slip on and off. I threw my hair into a messy bun and decided it was good enough.

I grabbed a few things, like sunscreen and a towel and popped them into a beach bag that I had stored away. I was ready to go. I checked my watch 11:15. Taking one last look around the place, I took my stuff and left. On the drive, I couldn't help but drive past Spencer's place, just for fun, and only 2 minutes later, I arrived at the cafe where I had met the boys for the first time.

The clock on my dash read 11:37, plenty of time to sit and wait before the boys would be here. I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the head rest. My mind wondering back to last night, wish that Spencer would think of me the same way I think of him. Maybe I'm just being desperate, but thinking about Spencer causes me to smile, every single time. I can't help it.

The loud knock on my window cause me to jolt from my thoughts. I looked out the window, seeing Morgan's face on the other side as his hand reached for the handle. Once the door was open, I climbed out and locked the car. Derek hugged me, which I returned, squeezing him slightly, he smelt good. We let go of the embrace, stepping back from each other, he looked me up and down.

"Looking good, mama." He says with a wink.

"Ha, you too." I winked back, "I thought you only had eyes for Garcia."

We stood there laughing for a bit, until I saw Spencer come around the corner, his face buried in a book, he was only ever looking away from it to see if there was an obstacle in his path.

"Ah, pretty boy." Morgan said, turning to look at him. Spencer's face still glued to the book, he didn't look up until he was inside. Derek decided it would be a good idea to sneak up on him and we entered the cafe behind him and stood there watching. He looked around to try and find Derek and I, to no avail. He pulled out his phone and started dialing. Derek and I giggled to ourselves, but Spencer wasn't paying attention as he was listening to the ringing on his phone. As Derek's phone rang, he didn't even reach for it, instead watching Spencer as he spun around to see us right behind him, all of us giggling.

We greeted each other, and Spencer walked toward me, his arms going outward as if coming in for a hug. I gave him a puzzled look, and accepted his embrace. The familiar smell of his cologne filling my nose, I took in a deep breath before releasing him.

Morgan bro-hugged him and we all laughed at how silly everything had just been.

"Let's grab lunch!" I exclaimed, I was starving.

We sat around a table, our chairs evenly spaced apart. The guys picked up menus, but I already knew what I wanted. After deciding, Derek and Spencer got up to order, insisting on covering my lunch. They came back and Derek decided small talk would be a good idea.

"So, Y/N," he smirked, "Is there anyone special in your life?" his eyebrows wiggling.

"Yes and No." I started, staring him in the eyes, not sure how to proceed, "I met this guy recently, I think he's great. I'm not sure if he's interested in me though. I'm also not sure if I should ask him how he feels. I mean, we only met not that long ago, so it might be too soon, you see..." I trailed off, rubbing my thumbs together, avoiding even a glance in Spencer's direction, so as though to not give anything away.

"Non sense!" Derek remarked, "If you feel a certain way about someone, you gotta tell them, babygirl. So, who is he?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter, you don't know him." I replied, trying to brush him off, but he wouldn't have it, and insisted I give him the identity of the 'mysterious guy' that I was keeping secret from him.

I remembered back to the car ride with Emily, all the little things she told me about Spencer.

"Walter..." I trailed off, smirking at myself a little, "He's cute and tall and quite smart." I could go on about all the little things I found adorable and attractive about Spence, but if I made the list too specific, Derek would piece it together too easily.

Spencer's ears perked at the name, and he looked at me with a puzzled looked, and I couldn't help the small smile that came across my face. Derek was still trying to figure out who 'Walter' was.

Derek noticed us looking at each other, looked between us, his eyes narrowing as he examined my face. His concentration broken by our food being put on the table in front of us. We all thanked the waitress and started eating. I had a chicken salad wrap, Spencer had a cheese ham and tomato toastie, while Derek had a burger. We all ate, barely saying a word, enjoying our meals.

I was the first to finish, Spencer was done soon after. We started talking about work things. We started picking on Derek who was having trouble defending himself as he tried to finish his food quickly.

"At least I don't hide behind books to avoid my feelings." Derek spat back at Spence, who just shrugged his shoulders. "And how about you, miss Perfect? Sucking up to Hotch and showing off in front of everyone on your first day, making us all look bad! You can't fool anyone with your goody-two-shoes act!" he finished by taking a sip of his drink.

I clasped a hand to my chest in fake offence, "Oh no! ME make the fantastic Mr. Morgan look bad?! how could I? His beautiful physique and wonderful words which help him pull all the ladies, tarnished! what ever will he do?" I stopped when I noticed Spencer silently giggling to himself at the sight before him. I couldn't let him get out of this. "Oh no no, Doctor. You're not getting out of this that easily. Your big brilliant brain is beautiful, but you need to work on understanding innuendos. The amount of things that have been said to and around you, that go straight over your head, we need to get you cultured."

He was confused. He didn't understand why he needed to understand jokes, why it mattered so much, and really, it doesn't. He's perfect in my eyes.

We sat there talking for a bit more until Derek decided it was time to go. We got up, left a tip on the table and headed out. We walked to y car and leaned on it, Spencer choosing to stand.

"What now?" I asked.

"The beach." Derek answered, "Don't worry pretty by, we'll find somewhere with shade so you can sit and read." Spencer's expression calmed at the sound of not being forced to swim.

We decided to go in one car. My car was elected because it was closest. I climbed in to the drivers seat, Derek in the passenger and Spence, in the back.

On the car ride, I changed through radio stations, trying to find music. Derek was confused by it, but Spencer knew what was happening. With the back coming along the corner, we all kept our eyes peeled for a parking spot.

I saw a spot, near a decent sized tree, which had a bench in the shade underneath it. Perfect. I pulled into the spot and we all climbed out. Derek and I, grabbing our beach bags and Spencer with his satchel that he has with him literally everywhere he goes.

The three of us walked single-file, me leading, to the bench. Spencer quite happily sat and pulled out his book while Derek and I set down our bags. I took a moment to take in the scene. Closing my eyes, I listened to the water, the crashing of the waves, so welcoming and calming. The smell of the ocean was so refreshing, the scent filling my lungs with every breath.

Opening my eyes, I saw Morgan had started removing layers until he was just in his swim trunks. I followed his lead, undressing down to my bikini. My skin looked so pasty compared to his caramel skin.

I grabbed the sunscreen from my bag, and started on my arms, chest, legs but of course, I can't each my call back properly. I looked over at Derek, with almost output dog eyes and he held out his hand. I have him the tube and turned around.

"You know, Walter should be going this guy you.." his suggestive tone caused heat to rush to my face as my eyes lifted to look at Spencer, who's eyes were glued to the pages of his book.

As he finished, he threw the tube down to my bag and ye inlled,

"Last one in is a rotten egg!"

Without hesitation we both ran for the water, laughing the whole way. With sand flicking up behind us as we ran, we reached the water in no time. We leapt over the small wave as we reached the water, the splash from the land was cool and refreshing. After a few more leaps, I dove in under a wave, losing sight of Derek.

The Cool water consumed my body. The waves in my hair, the current caressing and flowing over me. As I resurfaced, I couldn't see Derek. I assumed he went under too, and started looking in to the water, trading to see his figure.

With my head still looking to the water, a splash came from my side, Derek sat there unleashing a wave of splashes as I tried to deflect and return. Laughter erupting from both of us as we unleashed a wrath of splashes on each other. He finally stopped with a breathy laugh and so did I. He started to swim toward me and I couldn't help but splash him one last time, playback for what he'd started.

"Alright," he laughed, "You win." He made it over next to me. As our breathing solved, we both looked at Spencer, who's attention seemed to never leave his book.

"How can we get pretty boy in the water?" He suggested. We decided a plan and set it in to play, and I was the bait. I watched Derek swim far enough away and began acting. It needed to be convincing or Spence Rodney buy it.

I started waving my hand in the air and started yelling out for help. Using his name a couple of times in the process helped a lot. His head finally snapped up to see me, my head bobbing under the water a few times, and to see Derek no where near close enough to help. He jumped up, ripped off his shirt and used his feet to remove his shoes.

He ran for the water and jumped in. He made it close enough to me that he was commited to swimming and I started laughing. Derek, who had been watching, had made his way over too and joined in with my giggles. It wasn't long until Spencer had his arms wrapped around me, trying to get my head above water. I looked into his eyes and batted my eyelashes, a small smile coming over my lips.

"Sorry." I said quietly as Derek patted him on the back, telling him of our plan.

"if you guys wanted me to swim so bad, you should have just asked." Spencer said, releasing me and staring me down with betrayal in his eyes.

"C'mon Reid," Morgan started, "you wouldn't have come in if I had simply asked. And besides, didn't it feel good holding a beautiful woman in your arms?" His eyebrows wiggling as Spencer studied me, both of our faces going red at the suggestion.

Derek swam off with a 'catch me if you can' look on his face.

"Sorry for doing that to you." I apologised to Spencer.

"No, he's right. I wouldn't have come in if he had asked. I'm not much for swimming, not in open experts anyway. I much prefer somewhere I can see the bottom. Even though the percentage of shark attacks is pretty low, the chances of getting stuck in a rip are quite high. I don't think I'd put up much of a fight against one..." His voice trailed off as he watched Derek get further away.

"I'll save you if that ever happens." I said, winking at him. He laughed and started after Derek, I followed. The swim turned into more of a race rather than us trying to catch Derek.

We stayed at the beach for a few hours. I could feel my shoulders and nose burning. We had been having so much fun, I had forgotten to reapply sunscreen.

"Maybe we should get going," I suggested, "at least in to the shade?" I noticed Spencer's face was also red and I felt bad because he didn't even apply sunscreen. The three of us retreated to the shade.

I picked up my towel and patted myself dry. I slipped on my dress and we packed up our stuff ready to go. We stopped at the public showers to wash our feet before getting to the car.

"Who's still keen for icecream?" Derek asked as we reached the car. My sunburn wasn't 'burning' as of yet and I was still keen on icecream.

"I'm keen, but we shouldn't be too long. The sooner I get some cream into this bad boy, the better." I replied, pointing to my nose and shoulders, while putting my seat belt on. Derek looked over his shoulder to Spencer who simply said,

"Sure." With a shrug of his shoulders, pulling his book out of his bag.

The icecream shop wasn't too far away, so o didn't burger with the radio. Instead, Derek and I joked around with each other during the drive.

This one is longer to make up for the day's I've been missing. It's been sitting in my drafts for days because I keep getting distracted. I'm so sorry, please enjoy. :)

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff

31 notes · View notes

escapist-dreams · 3 years

Text

Fix it ~ Invincible Fanfiction

Summary: Rex's hand gets damaged in a fight. No one is willing to help him, so he helps himself.

Warnings: spoilers for both the Invincible animated show(episode 7) and comics(issue #40) concerning Rex-Splode, injuries(nothing nearly as graphic as the source material)

Word Count: 2.3k

This is my first Invincible fanfic, and one of the first fics I've written in awhile! Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to tell me what you think about it! Constructive criticism would be appreciated :D

"We meet yet again, Invincible!" D.A. Sinclair shouted with his usual dramatic flair. He had escaped from the government facility a couple months ago and holed up in a sewer, making more of his fucked up 'reanimen' who the new Guardians of the Globe were now fighting.

His army of cyborgs were unleashed onto the fleeing crowd, more destructive than self destructive this time. Sinclair must've taken notes from his previous failures.

While they targeted the heroes, civilians were caught in the crossfire left and right. Dupli-Kate evacuated the remaining civilians while Shrinking-Rae fought off any cyborgs coming near. The rest of the team tried to disarm the cyborgs without killing them, which Mark made them agree to do before the fight.

Invincible went through one after the other, knocking out the cyborgs, one could tell he was holding back. Monster Girl knocked out a good chunk of them, but accidentally killed one or two with the strength of her monster form. One of them slammed her against a building, sending a big crack up the wall, no doubt affecting civilians in the upper floors. Shrinking-Rae rushed to save those in the building affected by the crack, while Monster Girl slumped against the wall, down for the count.

Rex-Splode made it past the wall of reanimen defending Sinclair and shot a projectile at his torso. He stumbled as the magnet hit his side and exploded, only grazing him but doing damage all the same. He cupped a hand around the wound, and when he regained his composure, looked directly at Rex.

"You'll pay for that!" With a movement of his hand, D. A. Sinclair ordered the cyborg to target Rex-Splode.

"Sure I will, asshole!" Rex smirked and raised his hand again, aiming for Sinclair's head. The cyborg intervened, lunging towards Rex, who dodged and backed away. He couldn't kill the guy, but he really didn't want to get beat to a bloody pulp today. He made a split second decision to shoot him in the legs to slow him down. He did so, but all he received for his efforts was the sound of a small metal impact. He'd missed the human parts, the projectile only slightly slowed the cyborg.

Just as he was about to shoot again, the cyborg grabbed his hand, crushing flesh and metal alike. Rex doubled over as a wave of pain hit him like a brick. He tried to push past it after a few moments, looking up just in time to see Robot come up behind the reaniman, knocking him out with a punch. Invincible grabbed a piece of metal from a street sign that had been crushed in the wreckage of the battle and bent it tightly around Sinclair, effectively trapping him. And since the cyborgs were all either knocked out or no longer under his control, the battle was over.

"You couldnt've done that earlier?" Rex complained as Mark tied up Sinclair, wincing in pain. Several members of the team gave him a familiar look of annoyance.

"Maybe if you weren't too busy cowering we would've finished this sooner." Samson stated.

"I wasn't--!" Rex began, but he doubled over again before he could finish, another wave of pain hitting him.

The rest of the team had sustained some injuries as well, but they were able to shake it off for the most part by the time they arrived back at the guardians' base.

"Hey Robot-" Rex tried to catch him before they fully returned to the group.

"It's Rudy."

"Right. Rudy, can you uh.." he pointed to his busted up hand, the blood dried onto the metal. Rudy made a wincing sound at the sight, then looked to their friends, who were in a group celebrating the won battle.

"Hm.. That's going to take a bit to fix, if you can wait I'll fix it in a couple minutes." he decided. Rex opened his mouth to protest, but closed it and nodded in agreement. The two rejoined the group.

They spent a few minutes having conversations in small groups, some about the fight, and some about completely different things. After about half an hour passed, Mark got up from his seat, explaining that he needed to get back home, as he had some homework to finish up. Slowly the group dissolved, rejoining their everyday lives. Rex ran to catch Rudy before he and Amanda left.

"Hey Rudy, can you fix this thing before you go? If you couldn't tell, it *kinda* hurts." Rex gestured to his hand, pulling the glove up a bit to show the broken metal and bloody skin.

"Can it wait, Rex? Me and Amanda are getting lunch." he paused, conflicted, "you can join if you want." he offered politely, but judging by the looks on his and Amanda's face, it wasn't an invitation.

"I'll pass." Rex sighed, unsure if he was more angry or sad about it at this point. Rudy shrugged as if to say "your loss", and he and Amanda left the base. Rex left as well a few moments later, Kate and Rae's conversation fading behind him as he made his way to his apartment.

Rex tried to ignore it, he really did. But god, it hurt. He must've been in shock before, but now that he had time to really think about and feel the injury, the pain set in. The metal of his hand had torn into his flesh and he was afraid to move it for fear of further lodging it into his arm. After awhile of trying to ignore the injury, Rex decided he couldn't take it anymore. If no one would help him, he would help himself.

Rex knew a thing or two about robotics since he got his powers from the devices in his wrists, and had been taught a bit at the facility for use in battlefield situations. So he got some spare tools he used for small repairs on his arms and got to work fixing his hand. It took just about all night, but by the end he was fairly confident that he'd at least helped the situation.

He must've done something right because next time the guardians fought a villain, he was able to shoot the projectiles from his hand. No need to ask Rudy for help. And the next time it was damaged, and he fixed it himself again. This time his aim was slightly off. He hit several walls, the ground, and nearly a civilian before his desired target, but it was fine, right? He hit the guy eventually, he missed the civilian, and it still worked decently well.

He continued to repair it himself, using the knowledge from his previous mishaps to improve upon it. It continued to have slight malfunctions, but it worked.

Until it didn't.

He aimed, and shot, but the small explosive wouldn't budge. It wouldn't leave his hand, something blocked it. The BB lit up as he tried to shoot, but it exploded in his hand.

"Fuck!" Rex yelled, throwing a magnet from his belt with his offhand and dodging out of the way of an oncoming attack.

The team made quick work of the enemy, but not before they got a few good hits in on Dupli-Kate and Monster Girl as well. Amanda was slumped against a wall while Kate Prime nursed an injury on her side.

Back at the base, Rudy was busy being at Amanda's side. She had a minor concussion, but overall she was alright. The excessive blood from a cut on her head made the injury look more serious than it was. They were thankful that she was alright, minus a bit of blood loss and a head injury.

Rex wanted to celebrate her quick recovery longer than he did, but hesitantly left after drinks were had and the party died down a bit. He knew he would have to work on his hand for awhile to get it in working order and get any sleep that night.

It was already much later in the day by the time he arrived at his apartment. Repairs went well for the most part. He had passed out before realigning the metal, but quickly aligned it before heading to the base that morning, presumably deeming it functional, which was an achievement in Rex's opinion considering how badly it was broken and lack of materials. He got hardly any sleep, but he wasn't exactly the type to usually get a full eight hours every night anyways.

The next day after training, Rudy approached Rex unexpectedly.

"Hey Rex, I noticed your hand got busted up pretty badly yesterday. Need me to fix it?" Rudy offered, glancing at Rex's barely-together hand with a hint of what might be worry. Rex scoffed.

"Oh no it's fine," he said, half proud of his work and half bitter at Rudy. "I figured it out."

Rudy gave him a curious look, pausing for a moment before repeating, "You 'figured it out'?"

Rex nodded, taking off his glove and showing off his hand, which he'd barely been able to peice back together the night before. "I figured it out."

He'd had to patch up the hand with spare metal parts and slightly off-size bolts, but it wasn't too bad of a job. From a certain angle, it'd look fine even. A bit busted up, used for sure, but functional. Now, from the angle of someone with as much knowledge in robotics as Rudy had, the sight was returned after a long pause with a vaguely annoyed, "this is going to take awhile."

"What're you two doing?" Amanda asked, walking into the workroom with a half empty carton of disguised booze.

"Rex tried to fix his hand. By himself." Rudy explained condescendingly after a pause that made it obvious he was focused on his work. Rex scoffed at the answer.

"I think I did a great job, thank you very much." And besides being proud of his attempt at fixing it, the way he phrased it made Rex sound like an idiot, as if he hadn't asked for help several times before deciding to fix the problem himself.

"You put the metal covering back in place just off enough to block the projectile, the bolts are all the wrong size, and part of it is still jabbing into your arm. This isn't even the right kind of.." he trailed off, clicking a new bolt in place before mumbling, "how did you even fight like this-?!"

"Well it's not like you bothered to help me when I asked.." Rex answered with the tone of an upset child.

"You didn't say how bad it was."

"I showed you! You saw it!" Rex nearly shouted, frustration and anger bubbling up in his chest and out his mouth.

"I would have fixed this easily if you'd asked sooner."

"I did ask sooner!"

"You could've asked when I wasn't busy." Rudy spoke nearly absent-mindedly, focusing intently on prying part of the metal out of damaged tissue that tried to heal around it.

Rex hissed in pain before responding, "When were you not busy? I asked you like three times, you told me to wait!"

"I just told you, I was busy. Why didn't you go to Cecil for this?"

"Oh yeah, like I'm asking some creepy ass guy from the government to fix my hand- No fucking way!" Rex tried to ignore the hint of fear in his chest at the idea of some shady government operative poking and prodding at him in a blindingly white room.

"You'd rather bother me than ask someone whose job it is to fix things for help?"

"I'd rather ask my friend for help!"

"You could have asked when I wasn't busy." Rudy repeated, obviously struggling to keep his cool. "I'm not going to drop everything for you, Rex!"

"Yeah? Of course not, but I bet you'd drop everything for her." Rex pointed at Amanda, who had a front row seat to the argument standing in the doorway. The two locked eyes for a moment, then Rudy looked away to glare at Rex.

"At least she offers something to the team. She's an invaluable asset and I need to keep her safe." He didn't need to shout, his tone and words cut deeper than raw anger could.

"Well pardon me for wanting to be able to use my fucking hand--"

"Excuse me?" Amanda snapped, glaring at Rudy. "Rex is my friend, and I won't reciprocate your crush on me just because you look like him and aged down for me. I don't owe you shit. And being a dick to the guy whose face you stole doesn't make you more appealing."

"But I--" Rudy was at a loss for words; a rare occurrence. Scrambling to regain his composure, he blurted out, "But I did this for you!"

"I don't owe you shit for that." she repeated firmly. "And if how you treat Rex is any indication, I wouldn't want to be with you, if this is how you treat a long time friend who needs help."

"Exactly!" Rex agreed, relieved that Amanda stepped in. Rudy glared at him before catching himself and looking back towards Amanda, who sighed angrily.

"He couldn't have asked Cecil!?" Rudy reiterated, grasping at straws trying to 'win' the argument he'd already lost.

"He's obviously uncomfortable with that, or he would've done it already. Something you would notice if you bothered to give him a second glance." Amanda snapped back. "He came to you for help, and you lectured him for it."

"I.."

"Let's go, Rex. This asshole isn't worth our time." she decided. Rex followed her out the door to rejoin the rest of the group with a satisfied sort of pride in his chest. It felt nice to be defended by someone other than himself.

The door slammed shut.

40 notes · View notes

not-reagan · 3 years

Text

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

#kpop #seventeen #stray kids #svt #skz #fanfic #guys i am so sorry #seungkwan #jisung #boo seungkwan #han #han jisung #a birthday gift #miyuuraiura #for you 💕#han jisung x boo seungkwan #jisung x seungkwan #han x seungkwan

12 notes · View notes

catxsnow · 4 years

Text

VENGEANCE T.D.

Summary: After Jason’s death, Tim was the one person that you could lean on, now more than ever.

Tim x reader and Sister!reader x Jason

Warning: Jason’s death, obviously. swears

A/N: I’m not entirely content with this, might fuck with a part two, who knows.

GIF not mine

Part Two

Word count: 2.6k

Jason Todd didn't hate Tim Drake.

He never hated Tim, he hated Bruce for allowing Tim to be put into the same situation that he was in. Jason never wanted to see another Robin be brutally murdered like he was. He never wanted another opportunity for some innocent kid who was just trying to make good in the world be beaten to death.

Jason did however, hate Bruce for not getting revenge on his behalf. He hated that Bruce never killed the Joker for killing him. That was why he was filled with so much hate towards the Wayne family. He thought he meant enough to Bruce to cross the line for once. Then again, he also thought that you would too.

You were Jason's younger sister, only by just under two years but he acted as if he was your parent half the time. When the two of you got taken in by Bruce, he became even more protective over you - if that was even possible. You were all Jason had for a very long time.

The shit that the two of you had gone through together, the things that you needed to do to survive, well, nothing could break that bond. Nothing besides the Joker.

The Joker took Jason away from you. When Jason found out that your mother was alive, he went on his own. He knew too well that you would want nothing to do with her - the two of you never got along, not that it was very easy to get along with her in the first place.

So, when Jason was on that cold, concrete floor, beaten half to death and blood dripping everywhere, his last thought was that he was glad you never came with him. He was glad that you never had to go through the pain that he did and the death that followed.

You had never felt so much pain in your life. The heartbreak that Jason's death caused you broke you in ways that you didn't think possible. Jason was the only one that was there for you when you needed someone, he was always the person who knew the right things to say, and wouldn't hesitate to get his hands dirty and make someone pay if they dared hurt you.

Jason was the best big brother you could have ever imagined. Losing him, was like losing a piece of yourself. You couldn't take the pain of missing your other half - so, just like Bruce had done, you put every spare moment of time out on the streets. Your mantle of Batgirl was upheld, but your antics more violent.

Bruce saw it, GCPD saw it, even Dick saw it and he barely stepped foot into the manor after his departure and fight with Bruce. However, no one said anything about it. Bruce was just the same, if not worse. His punches became harder, never ending until his victim was barely breathing. So close to crossing the line, but never far enough to not be able to come back.

And then Tim Drake came around.

He somehow figured out Bruce was Batman and that you were Batgirl. He knew that the two of you needed a Robin, someone that would keep you from passing that line for good. So Bruce took him in, he trained Tim and made him the next Robin.

You didn't mind Tim. He was a nice guy - even though you were very rude to him at first. The loss of Jason turned you in to a completely different person. Cold, untrusting, snappy, nothing like you used to be. He knew what had happened and tried his best to make life better for you.

Slowly, you started to warm up to Tim. You saw him less as a replacement to your brother and more of a friend. He didn't want you to think that he replaced Jason, he simply wanted to help to make sure that you and Batman kept your morals that you spent years maintaining.

He was the reason that you never crossed that line. Tim stopped you from killing the Joker. The moment that he popped his out of the twisted shadows he hid within, you were there, beating the ever living hell out of him. All you could see was him beating Jason, an innocent kid. You did this for Jason, to avenge him.

Joker was left in a bloody, beaten, lifeless pulp when you were done with him. Broken ribs, displaced knees, so much blood on his face that he wasn't recognizable. You wanted to kill him, you tried to, but Tim was the one to swoop in the last minute, stopping you from something you would regret for the rest of your life.

You broke down in his arms, crying that your brother was gone and that he was right, killing the Joker wouldn't bring him back. Tim held you as you bawled, promising that he would be there for you, no matter the pain. You just wanted to feel something other than the heartbreak that filled your chest - so Tim changed that.

Instead of grief, he filled you with happiness, love, desire. Upon trying to help you, Tim fell in love with you along the way. He spent hours with you, training to be better, crying on the year death of your brother, anything to distract you from the pain. He was there with you every step of the way.

He was scared to tell you how he felt. Scared that you only saw him as a crutch rather than a lover.

On the night of a Wayne gala, he couldn't hold his tongue any longer. You wore the most gorgeous gown that he had ever seen, or maybe it was just because you were the one in it. So, when the two of you danced, hand in hand and effortless gliding across the ballroom, he ended the dance with a kiss.

You weren't expecting it, but the moment that he had his lips on yours, you completely melted into him. Feelings that you never realized were even there erupted through your whole body, a happiness that you hadn't felt since that day. Tim swept you off your feet, literally.

You were happy with Tim. He brought a smile to your face on the hardest of days. Patrolling became something that you looked forward to again rather than feeling like a chore. You were no longer as violent as you once were, Bruce was slowly feeling the same way. Tim brought a light to both of your lives.

Things finally seemed like they were getting back to a place of normalcy. You could sleep at night without waking up from a nightmare, visit Jason's grave (something that was always too painful to do before Tim), even go into Jason's old room. Things were getting easier, but the pain was still there.

"Batgirl to Robin," you spoke over the comms. It was a pretty normal night on patrol - a few common thugs but nothing major. A new and improved Batgirl suit covered your body - you had finally outgrown the old one.

"Robin."

"How do you feel about a late night sushi date after this?" It was nearing the end of your guys night and you were starting to get hungry. The bright lights of a 24-hour sushi restaurant were catching your attention.

"You always hated sushi."

The voice made you jump. This wasn't Tim's voice, in fact it wasn't even over the comms. It was coming from right behind you. Not very many people could sneak up on you - in fact only Batman was able to and this sure as hell wasn't Batman. A tall man with a red helmet and guns holstered on his hips stood before you.

His voice was distorted and you had no idea who it was or where they had come from. Gotham was filled with all kinds of crazy, but only few were skilled enough to best you.

However, it was what he had known about you that threw you off - hating sushi. It was true, you never liked sushi until you met Tim. He had taken you there on a date one evening and before you could complain about the choice of food, he had given you the best meal of your life. Not only did you like the food now, but eating it always reminded you of him.

You decided that attacking first, asking questions later was your best choice. You didn't know who this guy was but you weren't planning on finding out the hard way. This guy could be wanting to kill you - not that you would be surprised. After upholding the mantle for several years after Barbra, you had a pretty long list of enemies.

This guy, wasn't one of them. Yet.

Whoever he was, he knew how to fight. Every move that you pulled on him, he somehow knew how to block, counter, or predict. He managed to dodge nearly all of your attempts at a batarang hit and those that he wasn't able to dodge, deflected off of his helmet. He was good, maybe better than you.

You landed several good punches on him. Since his helmet seemed to be strong, you aimed for the ribs, the knees, and shoulders. However, it seemed that with every hit you got, he had returned. Pain flared up in your ribs and you were sure that they were cracked, if not broken.

The man's kick had pushed you across the roof and you landed painful against the ground. A loud groan was emitted and all the wind was knocked out of your lungs. This guy was good, there was no way that you could take him on your own.

"Robin I-" you never got to finish you sentence. A loud gunshot rang out with a bullet zooming right by your ear. Ringing filled your head and you flinched away from your earpiece.

"Batgirl? Batgirl! What happened? (Y/N)!" Tim yelled. You didn't dare reach to try and speak to him again. Not when his gun was out and pointed right at you. Instead, you raised your arms in a temporary surrender. This man, he obviously wanted something otherwise he would have shot you already.

"What do you want? Who are you?" He never lowered his gun. You narrowed your eyes at him, "you're not going to kill me, so what the hell do you want. Better make it quick, the Bats is on his way."

"You've gotten better at being Batgirl," He finally spoke again. The modulated voice rang loud and clear in the traffic filled night. "I still beat you though, just like always."

Just like always? What the hell was this guy talking about. You had never met him before in your life. You had fought a lot of people in your line of work but you would have remember someone like him - someone that could put you on your ass in a matter of minutes.

A fear began to well in your chest about what was going to happen to you. A fear that maybe this man would bring you to the same demise as your brother. It had been a long time since you feared death.

"What do you want?" You repeated a final time. With a wince, you pushed yourself off the ground, eye level with the barrel of his gun. Obviously, he didn't trust you enough for you to be standing without a weapon pointed between your eyes. You just hoped that Tim and Bruce would show up fast enough before this guy could do anything to you.

"Your brother would be disappointed in you."

Your breath caught in your throat. How did he know about Jason? How did he know what had happened to him? And mostly importantly, how did he know that you could never bring yourself to kill the joker? This man knew who you were, your real identity - or maybe he was just bluffing.

You didn't give him a reaction, that had to have been what he was looking for. How he knew your brother - and you- and why he was interested in the relationship, left you more confused than anything. You wanted to know how this man was, and more importantly, you wanted to know what he wanted.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know everything about you," he argued, his voice rising. "You couldn't avenge your brother, you let Batman replace him, what else have you done?"

"He never would have wanted me to cross that line, because he knew I would never be able to come back!" You matched his voice. Your fists clenched at your sides and you suddenly felt furious that this man standing in front of you pretended that he knew who you were and who Jason was.

"He would have wanted you to make sure that no one took the mantle of Robin again, he would have wanted you to make sure that no one would have to share the same death as him but what did you do? You welcomed the replacement right into your bed!" This man seemed to know more about your life than you would have ever thought.

Very few people knew your identity, Tim's, and Bruce's. You made sure that it was kept well under wraps so that cases like this would never have happened. No, this stranger was taunting you in the worst kinds of ways - your brother, and what he meant to you.

You always thought that you had done Jason's memory well - maybe not perfect but he wouldn't have been wanted to be remembered as the perfect son. He was brave, dauntless, he acted real and never caved into the posh society that the two of you were dragged into. Jason was human, and you made sure he was remembered that way.

Your jaw clenched and you swore that you face twitched in anger. Seeing red, you didn't notice that the man had picked up one of your previously thrown batarangs and threw it right into your shoulder. You cried out in pain and before you could retaliate, he was gone. You braced yourself for the pain and pulled out the metal just as Tim arrived on the rooftop with you.

"(Y/N)," Tim sighed in relief. He rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. His hands cupped your face and without thinking, he kissed you. "I was so worried, you didn't answer and I heard the gunshot. I thought you were dead." You shook your head, still fazed by the interaction.

"He knew who I was," You voice trembled. You finally looked over at Tim. He saw the blood drip from your shoulder and pressed his hand into the wound to hopefully slow the bleeding. "He knew who Jason was. Tim, h-he... the things he said, he thought that I would have been a disappointment to him."

"You know that's bull," Tim promised you. You were too much of an emotional mess to even feel the pain coursing through your body. "Jason would be so proud of the person you've become. You've saved so many lives - he would be happy for you. We're going to find this guy, he'll get the justice he deserves."

"No," You shook your head. The anger that he had cast upon you only kept growing in your chest. No one, disrespected your brother's memory, ever. You were going to make sure of that.

"I want him dead."

415 notes · View notes

justtogetthrough · 2 years

Text

I spent 6 hours in the ER tonight to be diagnosed with food borne illness and offered no pain management for the first 5 of those hours despite me being balled up and crying in pain bc literally nobody came to check on me for 4 hours. At the 1 hour mark upon arrival is when I got put in a room from the triage/waiting area and I was like hey nurse I'm doing real bad bc x and y and she was like you're going straight to a room so I'm sure you'll be seen quickly. And then I saw no one for 4 hours except when I pressed the call button at hour 4 crying and having a panic attack and asking if I should just leave cuz apparently there's no medical reason anyone feels I should be there and she's like no no the doctor will come and I mean... he did... but not for another hour and a quarter and I was in 9 out of 10 pain alone in a hospital room crying for hours and literally nobody gave a shit. Adulthood sucks. I had just gotten up to grab my coat and leave when the doctor walked in to draw blood. And they have the gall to post signs in the rooms saying nurses will check in every hour during the day to check on pain, potty, position, and personal belongings "its called the 4 p rounding in the ED". I want to file a complaint and be like TELL ME WHY NO ONE CHECKED ON ME FOR 4 HOURS, AND WHY IT TOOK 5 HOURS TO GET PAIN RELIEF WHEN MY LITERAL PRESENTING COMPLAINT WAS PAIN ALL DAY FLUCTUATING BETEEEN 6 AND 10 OUT OF 10. As soon as they injected the antiinflammatory into my arm at hour 5.25 since arriva to triage the improvement was significant and the crying stopped and its like wow. I could have had this hours ago. I wasn't drug seeking. Fucking toradol is all it took, its not a narcotic, and it worked and I was satisfied and I want to know why a doctor didn't check in on my pain within the first hour of getting a room to see what I needed to function. That toradol injection at hour 2 not hour 5 would have made this night a lot less hellish and spared my neighbours from listening to me cry and hyperventilate for 30-40 minutes straight.

I am much happier to be crying in my own bed now than in the fucking hospital where everyone just ignored the sounds of a person in extreme suffering.

At this point I would rather die from some random medical misfortune slowly and painfully at home then ever voluntarily attend my local hospital man. It's literal hell on earth.

I'll go there for stitches when I'm not in medical need besides sewing up a wound and I can bring a book. But if I'm suffering in any way, the hospital is the last place to go. I need to restock my home pharmacy with OTC and illicit drugs and I'm self medicating from here on out. If I could stitch myself I would and trust me I've checked Amazon for suture kits. They seem suspect. Once I find a real kit with real tools, I will never step foot in a hospital again.

Ps, med students link me up with suture kits, I'll pay you for them. Amazon sells practice kits and idk if theyre truly skinsafe. I need what you use and I have 2 decades experience watching it done and am probably autistic and would research the fuck out of it and do it 100% properly minus the med school qualification. Hook me up please. This is a serious request.

This post is written on xanax and zopiclone and will form the basics of my complaint I will be losing with the hospital thanks. I need to ask my kid if he still wants to lodge a complaint about his mistreatment in November. We can navigate that process together. It's a life skill. Reporting concerns is not the same as complaining but the complaint process is necessary and it needs to be used when services are harmful and negligent and both of our situations warrant formal complaints and apology letters for mishandling our medical needs.

So that could be a tomorrow thing given I refuse to work after this week I've had so yep. Day off, boss can't convince me otherwise and likely won't. So reading up on hospital complaint procedures and connecting with my kid about whether he wants to do his too. His complaint was way more violating so I suspect he won't, but I think he should. Up to him though. People, institutions, etc all need to be held accountable and if they dont know we're unhappy or the whack shit their employees are doing, we are failing our responsibility to take part in social democracy.

That's my drugged up rant for tonight. I am upset.

#personal #medblr #med school #medical professionals #med student

2 notes · View notes

unpaidoscorpintern · 3 years

Text

I'll tell you my sins (you can sharpen your knife)

pairing: Harry Osborn (Kindred)/Mary Jane Watson; a hint of Harry Osborn (Kindred)/Peter Parker (Spider-man)

rating: 18+

words: 2400

content warning: exhibitionism, voyeurism, creepy crawlies acting like tentacles for a hot minute, teratophilia since Kindred is a demonic entity

summary: Kindred serves Spider-man his just desserts; or, a p0rn parody of The Amazing Spider-Man #55

disclaimer: The following story was written before the publication of The Amazing Spider-Man #73

Memories are for photo albums. They're impressions on the back of our retinas, polaroids developed in the darkest corners of our minds. Turn on the light and they're forever tainted, a splash of color and a smudge of sentiment. You can't trust memories. Scars, on the other hand? Scars never lie.

I've collected more than a few in my time. That’s why my knees never really looked the same after my first bike ride. Dad was there until he wasn't. You see, he thought that letting go of the bike, letting go of his own son, would break me at first, then thicken my skin. But skin never heals back quite the same way, does it, Pete?

"Did you meet any famous dead people in that hellhole you crawled out of, Har? You know, like Dr. Freud?"

"Easy, Tiger." I can hear Mary Jane hissing beside me, towards you, across the table, through cobweb and candlelight. "Play nice."

"I'm done playing, MJ," you spit, through bloody teeth and dried tears. "There's pieces of my brain still splattered on that far wall over there from our earlier game. I'm done playing his fucking games."

Games? There's no playing at the dinner table, kids. Now, where was I?

"You were just about to let her go." You speak up again, desperation drowning out your ire. "Let them all go. It's me you have unfinished business with, or whatever the dead want outta the living."

Jealous, Pete? I must say, it’s a good look for you. But don't you worry, ol' buddy. I'm not done with you yet. Though Mary Jane and I do have something - what did you call it again? Ah, yes. Unfinished business. I'll get back to you as soon as I-

Is that...is that laughter I hear? Hallow and heaving, it still bounces off these old mausoleum walls, echoing in my ears and scrapping at an old scab. An old scar. What's so funny, huh? You mind sharing with the rest of the table?

"You, ol' buddy. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised since you're one of the only people who made me laugh when I wanted nothing more than to slit my own throat, but, still. Is this about what happened back at ESU? Is this about MJ breaking up with you?"

It's about you, Pete. About the choices you made. Every single one - from coming between Mary Jane and me to hiding my father's issues from his son - were all the wrong ones. If you had chosen otherwise, if you had been any less selfish, Gwen - I can see a blond head bobbing, but I'm talking about my Gwen - well, she wouldn’t be-

"Fuck you, Harry!"

Ah, there it is! Anger looks even better on you, Pete!

"You think I haven't spent every day blaming myself for what happened that night? You think I don't go over my own choices over and over again, questioning every decision I ever made to figure out which domino fell first?"

Yet again, there's nothing that doesn't look good on you, Pete. Why don't you try some responsibility for a change?

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're the one who's dangling the life of the woman I love right in front of me-"

Mary Jane opens her mouth, her sweet breath a summer breeze through the still air. "Peter-"

You're boiling, spilling over. Tears and spit, blood and grime, and you still look good. I bet you could even make maggots look good.

"And you want to act like you're better than me? Look at yourself! You are your father's son! Daddy's little fucking monster-"

If I'm a monster, then it's because that's what you made me.

"Harry," Mary Jane jumps out of her seat, following your lead.

You had help, of course. My help. Every other itsy bitsy gets a hand, too. Well, a centipede. They all get to swing in the air one last time before they-

"Harry!"

Dinner's over, Pete. It's time for your just desserts.

"It's m-me you want, Har-"

When you're right, you're right. I want you to confess your sins.

"So let them-AH! Let them go."

Maybe a little knock on the head will jog your memory. How about another? Now? Confess. Confess your sin. The deadliest. Confess.

"Har-"

"He doesn't remember." Mary Jane, I can see your knees barely keeping themselves from bucking. Yet, here you are, standing between the ol' Pumpkin Eater and me. "Whatever it is that he did, whatever sin he has yet to confess to, he doesn't remember."

Oh, don't you worry your pretty little bottom lip! He will remember, if it's the last thing he'll do! I've got tens of legs to crawl all over him and an eternity to spare. Come the end of time, he will repent.

"How many times have you tried torturing a confession out of him? You should know that hurting him won't work."

What're you suggesting? I can hear the tamed tremor in your voice, the slight shudder running down your spine, the booming beating of your heart. Yet, here you are, approaching me, one steady step in front of the other.

"Hurting me, however-"

"MJ-"

Are you hearing this, Pete, or is the blood already leaking out of your ears?

"Hurting me, the woman he loves, that should do it, right?"

"MJ!"

I’ll take that as a yes. You heard everything, but do you understand what it means? Do you, Mary Jane, understand what this all means? Look at them! It’s hard, I know, but look at them! Look at what I’m doing to them! I’m squeezing the life out of them for now, but centipedes can sting, too. Did you know that? They’re venomous. I could fill them with poison, watch them trash about as it clogs their veins! Is this what you want for them? Is this what you want for yourself? I can see it in your eyes - your beautiful eyes - that you can’t stand the sight of them in pain. So, tell me, Mary Jane, what makes you think that I can stand the sight of you in pain?

“Then you haven’t forgotten-”

That night, on the bridge? Mary Jane, how could I forget?

“I was scared out of my mind, but you said something which calmed me down. Those same words gave me the strength to come here. You remember, don’t you, Harry? Harry, you said that you-”

I loved you, Mary Jane. I said that I loved you, that I’d never hurt you. How could you ask this of me? How could you ask me to take you in his place?

“Because you loved him, too. You loved Peter, and I’m willing to bet my life that you still do.”

It’s true, Pete. I loved you, but I got better. I saw you for who you were after closing my eyes for the last time. And I loved MJ, up until a breath ago. Up until she let out that little surprised gasp she let out. Relax, it’s just an earwig. Oh, but what’s that? Is that an earpiece? And was that Dad on the other line?

“Harry, listen-”

You listen, my dearest friend! I said nothing about you being allowed to bring a plus-one, and, even if I had, Norman Osborn is not welcome here! I won’t allow any party crashers and, just to make sure he won’t be sneaking past the guards, I’ll seal us all in!

“Oh, my God!”

There is no god here! With the only entrance having collapsed in on itself, there is no coming in. But there is no getting out either. Good news, Pete! I’ve decided to lay off you for a while! Take a breather, pal, while I take my time with-

“If you touch her, I swear to God-”

Didn’t you hear me the first time? Here, I’ll loosen up my grip on you, so blood can start rushing back to your ears! There we go! And, since you two insist on bringing up God, Mary Jane offered herself as a sacrificial lamb and I intend to take her up on that offer. Oh, where’s all that fire gone, MJ? Was that all just some bluff, an elaborate scheme, one of Dad’s convoluted plans? Come on, you said you couldn’t wait to play the martyr and we both know how good of an actress you are. Even with your knees knocking against each other, even with your fingers, fidgeting as they reach out to me, you’re still a star.

“You said that you loved me. That you’d never hurt me. So, please, Harry, don’t hurt Peter. It hurts me to see him like this.”

I do love you, and I won’t hurt you. But I don’t love him and made no such promises to him. You did make a promise to me as well, remember? If you recall my love, then you recall me hurting myself with it. And you said it yourself, Mary Jane: he loves you. So you’re going to keep your promise, and you’re going to hurt him. You chose him last time. So, this time, you’re going to choose-

“You.”

“If you fucking touch her-”

She’s the one touching me, ol’ buddy. Yes, her hands are hesitant as they clasp my coat, but she’s all over me. Oh, Mary Jane, is that the perfume I bought for you while we were dating? Did you get a whiff of it, Pete? You probably did! You probably smelt it on one of the shirts you borrowed from me. I shared everything with you, but you just had to have her, too, didn’t you?

“MJ, what are you doing? MJ?”

What are you doing, MJ? You’re driving him mad! Jealousy looks just as good on him as my Armani shirts! He’s thrashing as if poisoned by the pain of seeing us together. I think I’ll loosen up my hold so that he can lift his head and see what you’re doing to me. You’re struggling with the buttons, every last inch of you shivering, but there’s nothing waiting for you beneath. I’m nothing like I used to be. You, on the other hand, are just as beautiful as I remember. I’d rather see what you’re hiding underneath.

“What are you waiting for?” Are you seeing this? Pete, are you seeing this? She’s kissing me! It’s my maggot-infested, bandage-covered jaw - and she’s kissing it! Look at her, Pete! “Undress me.”

“No, no, no-”

If you feel a pair of legs, or ten, crawling up your own, it’s only because I’m holding you close. If you feel a chill run down your spine, it’s only because I’m squeezing you tight. And if you feel a chill running down your spine -well, that’s a multi-legged friend tearing down your dress.

“NO!”

Did you see that, Pete? That almost looked like a pleasant shiver running through her. She almost looked like she enjoyed the cold-blooded embrace. Do you like it, Mary Jane? Do you like it when I touch you like this? Well, I guess you always had a thing for creepy crawlers. I am sorry about the dress. Black looks good on you, but it looks better on this white mausoleum floor. Do you like it when I touch you like this, scraping at that sensitive spot at the back of your head with my crooked claws, wrapping myself around your thighs with tens and tens of little legs, around your middle, squeezing down on your hips?

“Yes.”

Did you hear that-

“MJ, why? Why? Why?”

Did you hear that, MJ?

“W-what?” The heat of your breath hit my senses, what was once my nose, and you smell like freshly brewed coffee. Oh, you taste like life, Mary Jane, and it is sweet. The sweat beading at your forehead - do you mind if I have a taste? And the ones that spilled over, on the side of your face? “Harry.” My tongue is cold, I know. My embrace, the crawlers caressing you across your chest, they’re just as cold. Holding you is like catching a sunbeam: warm and bright. “Harry, aren’t you going to k-kiss me?” I hope you are hearing all of this, Pete, because I see your eyes burning through me, and I feel your body tensing up. Her body is just as tense, nerves knotted tightly from all this teasing. Is there any wonder why she needs my tongue in her mouth right now? She needs something inside her.

“Stop!”

It’s working, Mary Jane! He’s gone half-insane! As for the other half - what do you say? I don’t taste all that bad, do I? If I do, then you are the best actress of your generation! Pete, get over here! Stop struggling against the centipedes or they will have no choice but to stick something inside you, too! And, trust me, this is not the pleasant kind of penetration! Now stand up! Open your eyes and look into hers. Do you see that? Do you see those blown-up pupils? She wants this, and, judging by what’s jutting out of your onesie down there, I say you’re enjoying this, too.

“STOP!”

Well, Mary Jane, it turns out that shame is the shade that suits our Peter the best! He can barely contain his blush - or his erection, but that’s a skintight suit right there - watching snip away your lingerie with my long, sharp claws so wantonly. Seeing you savor every stroke of my tongue across your gooseflesh, past your perked up nipples and the valley of your breasts, and your newfound fetish for feeling creepy crawlers’ caress. He’d rather keep his eyes closed than witnessing any of this. So, what do you think? Is he ready to confess yet?

“Confess? Confess to what? Being sick to my stomach? Feeling disgusted with myself?”

"Tiger," Mary Jane moaned while pawing at my patchy coat, pushing her chest forward into my face. "I never knew...I never knew you liked watching.”

“Goddamn it, MJ!”

The scar from back when you stabbed in the back is a scab I can't help but claw at. The look on your face though? The way your cheeks burn with shame and your eyes are blown in excitement? Well, that's the ointment I needed, Pete.

"Goddamn it, Harry!"

God isn't here, Pete. It's just me. Confess to me. Confess. Confess.

"Playtime's over, kids!"

Did you hear that? Did any of you hear that? Is that-

"Norman?"

"Osborn?"

"That’s right! Daddy's home!"

#harry osborn #kindred #spider-man #peter parker #mary jane watson #harry osborn x mary jane watson #but pete is still too pissed to join in #so I might end up writing another one of these just to get him to kiss harry #yes that is a hozier lyric

7 notes · View notes

criminalminds4days · 3 years

Text

Family Matters | Chapter 3: Trivia

Hello People!

I hope you have had an amazing week and are going to have an ever better weekend. I am so done with this week. It was really crappy and I just can't wait for the beginning of next, hoping it will be better. The only positive side is that I was able to get over my writer's block and have finished about 3 new chapters.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter of Family Matters and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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

(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 3: Trivia

She closed the blinds and made sure for the fifth time the door was locked. Her breath caught in her throat and the fear and adrenaline that had rushed through her body made even Spencer Reid nervous.

"What's going on?"

"This is bad, I didn't realize the consequences of this until it was too late. I am so sorry I got you all tangled up in this mess."

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"I-" She turned and took a peek through the blinds, ensuring there was no one around. "I did not think things through. I think it's best if you go home, that way you might be spared."

"You are seriously starting to make me nervous, please tell me what's going on, how can I help?"

"There is nothing you can do; I am basically a dead woman."

"Why? Who's after you?"

"Anna Hemingway."

"Your cousin is after you? Did she threaten you or something?"

"No, she didn't have to." She walked towards the bed and sat on the edge, still glancing every now and then, making sure the coast was clear.

After her and Spencer's victory, they had both decided to go to bed, and while the rest of her family insisted on having another dinner dedicated to the couple, they had both decided best to eat and head back to their cabin. He had finished first and decided to head back, and as soon as he was gone, the memory hit her making her mistake obvious. And the main reason she had resorted to a passive competition with the world's worst cousin was clear once again. In a hurry she had returned to their cabin, ensuring she was not being followed, and locked the door, startling the doctor.

"The last time I beat Anna at something was when I twelve. We were both auditioning for the same role in our school musical. They gave me the part." He smiled, truly excited for her accomplishment, as well as happy to learn this new fact about her. "Don't get too peppy. On opening night, at Grandma's celebration for the play, I fell down the stairs."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because, Dr. Spencer Reid, as hard as it is to believe, me falling down the stairs was not due to my immense clumsiness."

"Wait, your cousin pushed you down the stairs?!" He exclaimed, truly horrified. How are children so cute and so evil at the same time?

"More like, she set her foot for me to trip on, but you get the idea." She glanced back at the door and then at the man in front of her. "I was lucky, I didn't break anything, but I have a feeling that might not be the case the next time. I also would prefer not to drown or anything like that."

"But we're federal agents, doing something to you or me would be unwise."

"You're speaking of the girl that tripped me down the stairs and thought that stealing my boyfriend and marrying him was wise."

"I'm gonna double-check the door is locked."

After hours of attempting to stay vigilant, her body had given in and she had fallen asleep. Although Spencer knew the danger, to him it was as simple as closing his eyes. She knew they were trained to deal with a lot of sick people, but he didn't understand the limits his cousin would go to destroy those who she felt wronged by. Although her main target had always been her, she once had basically ended a girl's life by getting her banned from pretty much any respectable college or job position because this one had made fun of her prom dress. Anna Hemingway was one to be cautious with, and they had both just embarrassed her in front of the people whose attention she had snatched years ago. It was worse than she realized.

"Spencer, Spencer." She spoke as she slightly moved him. He growled and moved away from her, attempting to continue his slumber. "Spencer."

"No, let me sleep." He complained.

"Spence, get up, please." After minutes of silence, she devised a new plan. "Spencer!" she screamed, making him jump, falling off the bed and landing between the edge of this first one and the door of the closet. "Oh good, you're awake."

He didn't say a word, for what seemed like centuries, and she wondered if screaming him awake was not the best decision, especially as her next request would not be something he would be inclined to.

"Sorry for that, I just needed you to wake up."

"Is there a fire I don't know about?"

"No, I just thought we could go for a run." There it was, the look Spencer had only given the unsubs he despised the most. She had earned it, but that didn't mean she liked it. "Sorry, I just, Nicole had to leave, and since I have a target on my back and there's safety in numbers... I also didn't want to leave you here alone, and vulnerable. I just felt like, despite your muscles, I am concerned you haven't yet mastered the use of your body."

"I will have you know that by all accounts I definitely know how to use my body. Quite effectively if I do say so myself, and others."

After his words, her mind went to a thought she never imagined having. She wondered if he meant it that way or she was just losing it. "Good, then you can come with me." That sentence following her thoughts was probably not ideal.

"No thank you, you can do it by yourself." She needed to change the direction her thoughts were going; they were definitely not helpful.

"Spencer, please. I am honestly a little terrified, and you should be too."

"Well, I'm not. She isn't worse than any unidentified subject we've dealt with before."

"Oh but she is. She's the worst type of unsub you could think of, but ten times worse."

"What's the worse she could do?"

"Let's not find out."

After whining from him and pleads by her, they both made their way out of the cabin. The shorts he had avoided yesterday were now covering almost nothing as they jogged. This was not a good reminder of their earlier conversation, so she simply focused on something easier: her cousin's imminent revenge. She thought it would come in the form of her accidentally pushing her into the lake, or a repeat of her falling down the stairs. She was even worried this time Spencer would be the victim since he had been the one to embarrass her. Her thoughts were interrupted by deep breaths and a yelp.

"Are you okay?"

"We've been running for hours, how dare you ask me such a question?"

She looked at her watch, "We've been running for exactly three and a half minutes. Actually, we haven't been running, more like jogging."

"How long do you usually do this for?"

"Depends on the day, but from thirty minutes to two hours."

"You need help."

"It won't be as bad, come on."

"You can go on, I am just gonna sit here and have a heart attack real quick."

"How on earth did you pass your physical?"

"I got it waved."

"Cheater."

"If it isn't it the 'it' couple of the weekend!" Suddenly the one having a heart attack was not Spencer, but her. "I didn't know you guys ran together, that's so cute!"

"Yeah, truly the reason I love her," Spencer said, a pinch of sarcasm in his voice.

"How adorable." It's coming, she could feel it. "Anyway, I was thinking, since love seems to be in the air this weekend, why don't we celebrate it by wrapping up the family retreat with a trivia night!"

"What does trivia have to do with love?" She regretted the words as soon as they came out, as Anna looked at her like she might as well be six feet under.

"Silly, the trivia would be about your significant other, of course!"

"Well, that's just-"

"Wonderful, I know!" The blonde smiled, delighted by her idea. "The family has already been briefed and they are all on board, I have started taking in questions and designed the cards, so we'll all meet around the campfire for dinner, and then we'll have trivia night!" She smiled brightly and began to leave, stopping by to appreciate Spencer's figure and palming his behind as she left.

"Did she just-?"

"Yes, yes she did."

"I need a shower."

After both had showered and changed they made their way to grandmas house, alert as to anyone following them. Most of her family had moved on from spying on them, but she knew Anna and Uncle Ernie were not that normal.

"So, what did your grandma do?"

"No one really knows, I mean it had to be good to make her so rich, but by the time my uncle Ernie was born, the eldest, she was already rich enough to sell whatever business she had and become a full-time parent."

"What about your grandpa?"

"He died before I was born."

"Oh."

They sat at the same table he had been at the day before; the chessboard was still in place. She began messing with the pieces, creating the game that always made her win, courtesy of her grandma.

"I didn't know you played."

"I too began at a very young age. I haven't really played since grandma died; she was my game partner. The only one that treated me like I was a human being." She sat down, remembering the hours she spent here when Nicole wasn't around, and everyone pretty much ignored her. "She was the only one that ever consoled me for losing my dad. Losing her was just one more box to check."

"I am sorry for your loss." He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently, hoping to convey his sympathy.

"Yeah well, by how calm Anna looks right now I guess it won't be long before I join her, so we don't have to worry about that anymore."

He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "So, what should we expect during this trivia night?"

"To lose, that's our safest bet."

"I don't really do losing."

"And all I do is lose, so I will be your guide this time."

The family had made their way inside, their excitement overflowing the room. She couldn't help but wish she could simply run for the hills. She knew the chances of them winning were null, because a) she needed to lose and b) Spencer and her hadn't known each other, really known each other long enough to be able to answer these questions. She wondered if that was the plan all along, that Anna somehow had found out about their lie and was using this as a means to expose it.

"Okay everybody, let's get started." Said, uncle Ernie. He wore the same clothes as their first day here. "Let us start with the competition. Since we have the newlyweds as well as the new couple in the family, I think they should make the honors."

She looked at Spencer and he smiled at her, she leaned closed and whispered. "Remember, to ease the monster, we need to lose, which shouldn't be hard, we're not even a real couple, there is no way we know enough about each other, right?"

He nodded and they both moved to the sofa that was designated as their spot, her uncle who now apparently served as the show host, handed Spencer and Tyler a buzzer, explaining whichever sounded first would get to answer the question. She mentally prepared herself, hoping she could answer enough questions to not raise suspicion but not enough to win the game, what a grand world that would be.

"Ready everybody?" everyone cheered in approval and she prepared herself. "This round is for the guys, once we finish you will pass the buzzer to your partner and at the end, we will have one round where either of you can answer. Now, the first question, what is your partner's Starbucks order?"

Spencer's buzzer went off as Tyler attempted to recall the memory. "It depends on the season. During winter and for as long as she can get it, it will be a Grande Peppermint Hot Chocolate, during the summer it will be no-coffee Double chocolate chip cookie crumble Grande Frappuccino with extra whipped cream, and no straw." She looked at him completely taken aback by his answer, how specific it was, and the fact that he knew she was a seasonal drinks person.

"Yeah, that's it." She spoke.

"Point for team FBI!" Her uncle cheered. "Next question, what is your partner's favorite color?"

His buzzer went off and the doctor spoke again, "Blue."

Ten questions later the scoreboard was 8-2, Spencer's lead, and the two questions he hadn't answered were because he decided that would be enough to lose. She didn't understand how he knew these things, or the fact that she knew what her answer for him would be, but what she did know, was that she had to be really bad in order to allow Anna to take the lead back, what she wasn't sure about anymore, was whether she wanted to let her cousin win.

"Ladies, you're up." Spencer handed her the buzzer and she smiled at him. "First question, how does your partner drink his coffee."

"That's easy. He doesn't drink coffee." She said soon after her buzzer went off. "He drinks sugar with a side of coffee, no creamer. Eighty percent sugar, twenty percent coffee."

"That is so mean to say! But it's true." Spencer agreed.

"How are you a doctor and drink so much sugar?"

"Not that kind of doctor." He clarified to the man.

"I have no idea what that means! Next question, what is the thing your partner is most proud of?"

"His job. Spencer loves helping people and using his knowledge to reunite families, he's the bravest guy I know." She smiled at him and he returned the gesture.

It was no surprise Anna was not content with the results, as the end was a 23-4 in favor of Spencer and her. As soon as the game was finished she knew that she had basically carved her own grave.

"That is not fair, they are not even really dating!" Her cousin screamed, "it's all a lie!"

"What?"

"Yeah, I know your little secret, I overheard you and Nicole talking about how Spencer was not really your boyfriend and how he didn't actually have dyslexia!"

"I-" She didn't know what to say, how had she not seen her? How could she let this happen?

"First of all, I think it is very inconsiderate of you to suggest that my dyslexia is not real. I have fought so hard for such a long time to ensure my condition didn't prevent me from succeeding, going as far as getting a Ph.D. in mathematics, for someone to simply come and question my hard work." Spencer said, seemingly very upset. "Second of all, this woman right here is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I will not sit here and tolerate you calling her a liar. We are in love with each other, and you as her cousin should be happy about it. Yet you seem so upset about her finding someone, it seems to me you're jealous, but what do I know, it's not like I can understand human behavior or anything. Oh, wait." He said, he took her hand and pulled her as close to him as she could. "Just leave my girlfriend alone, you took her sloppy second and married him, so what more can you want from her?"

The room fell silent, everyone eyed Spencer and Anna, trying to grasp what had just happened. "You and I both know you're lying, you two are not a real couple, you are just trying to ruin this weekend for me."

"Really, not a real couple? Then how did we end up destroying you at trivia? You made the questions Anna, I had no idea what was on them, you did. And I am not the one wearing a wedding ring. So my question is, how do you marry someone without knowing their proudest moment, or their Starbucks order?"

"Well, how come no one has ever seen you two kiss? You can learn facts about each other but that doesn't really make you a couple."

"You want to see a kiss? Fine." She turned and pulled Spencer's lips to hers. She let herself enjoy the moment, really enjoy Spencer's kissing skills, not because she wanted to or anything, but rather because that is how she should kiss him, there was no way anyone would have any doubt about them if the kiss looked authentic. Which it did, it also might have felt a little more authentic than it should but now was no the time to dwell on that.

Spencer kissed her back, creating an atmosphere in which her cousin's word didn't matter any longer, in which the humiliation her family had put her through was nothing worth thinking of, and the fact that both of them had such deep knowledge about each other only fueled it, melting her a little in her spot, she felt his teeth on her lower lip applying slight pressure and she couldn't help but wish they were by themselves right then and there.

"We get it! You guys want to take your clothes off, now please stop." Tyler's voice echoed, and the two doctors left each other's lips reluctantly, looking at him. "Now, can we please move on?"

"No! Not until they admit they are not really dating, and all this was a plot to humiliate me!" Anna screamed.

"You know what? I am not going to stand here and tolerate this behavior any longer. Bitchy Anna, you can whine all you want, but that will not change that I am with a man I love, and that loves me. I have let this family make me feel like less for long enough and I am done doing so. You can all go fuck yourselves because I am done with each and every single one of you. You allowed this crazy brat to humiliate me and treat me like I was less for long enough. Let's go home, Spencer." She grabbed him by the hand and exited the house, giving her family the middle finger before she banged the door. She walked to their cabin and gathered her stuff, him following suit. As soon as they were in the car and far enough away, she pulled over and sighed, coming down from her adrenaline rush.

"In the wise words of Penelope Garcia, that was hot," Spencer said.

"What was?"

"Everything." They laughed for a couple of minutes, the scene she had just created replaying in her mind. "I am so proud of you."

"Why? Because I gave my uncle Ernie the middle finger?"

"Because you stood up for yourself."

"Yeah, well even if she was right, I tend to get a little too angry when people call me a liar or get in my way."

"Yeah, I know." He chuckled, "How did it go, oh yes, 'Nu-uh bruh, I know you didn't just interrupt me mid-sentence.' And then you commented how a man who wore sweaters in the middle of July was not going to cut you off."

"I am so sorry about that; I was just so used to being cut off I didn't want it to be a thing at work."

"It's okay, I understand. I began cutting people off because that's what most people did to me when I spoke."

"Well, that's dumb. I love hearing your facts, you have all this knowledge, and you chose to share it, people should be grateful for it."

"Thank you, I appreciate that." He smiled, "Speaking of facts, our chances of getting murdered will increase by the minute if we continue to sit on the side of the road."

"Right, forgot about that!" She turned the car back on. "Let's go home, Spencer." As his apartment complex became clear, she slowed down, making a stop right in front of it. "Thank you for coming with me this weekend, I really appreciate it."

"No problem, that's what friends are for." Before he moved to get out of the car, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "What was that for?"

"For being the best fake boyfriend and real friend a girl could ask for." She smiled at him, so grateful for his existence. "I will see you tomorrow morning at 5:45 am sharp. Goodnight Spencer."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow." He opened the door and walked out, waving to her before he entered his building. She sat there for a couple of minutes, taking in the past weekend. She knew her mother wouldn't let her get away with her actions, but right now that didn't matter, Spencer Reid had told her he was proud of her, he had even used the term hot which in itself was hot because she never even imagined he used that type of vocabulary.

Regardless, she stood up for herself, she let Anna have it, and Spencer was proud of her. It seemed like a win-win. She drove home, a smile on her face.

#spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #cm

55 notes · View notes

cumholland · 4 years

Text

Neighbors Part 2

Chapter Two - Designed for You

(Tom Holland x Reader)

a/n: Thank you so much to everyone who loved the first chapter and asked for a second one! Also thank you again to @2018shawn for helping me come up with the idea and @moonshineholland for proofreading! Chapter 1 here

Summary: After a wrench is thrown into your relationship, will you and Tom be able to handle it or will it force you apart? WC: 9.6k

Warnings: Language, LOTS of smut, angst.

"I knew it!" Hannah screams into the phone. You had finally told her about the Tom situation after mulling over it for a couple of days. Now you were sitting in Tom's sun lounger by the pool. He was out shooting today but you decided to let yourself in to go for a swim and keep Tessa company. The last time you were over Tom had given you a spare key. Invited you to come at any time you pleased. He especially encouraged you to keep Tessa company as he worried about leaving her alone for too long. After taking for her for a walk, Tessa decided it was time for a much needed nap. With her asleep, you decided to catch up on tanning as well as catch up Hannah on your predicament.

"Don't get too excited, nothing has really happened since then." Ever since that steamy make out session with Tom, the two of you hadn't really talked about it. Tom's hands were all over you for the rest of the night traveling up and down your body, his lips all over your neck. You even fell asleep in his arms, not moving from the couch until almost three in the morning. Eventually, Tessa jumped on the couch, waking you both. Tom headed to bed as he needed to prepare for shooting the next day and you spent the rest of the night back home. Since then you had hung out with Tom once, only having dinner and watching a movie. Now, two days after making out with Tom, you weren't quite sure where he stood on the situation. "We haven't really acknowledged it, I guess," you explain to Hannah.

"Wait, so you're saying you had a lust filled night of passion and now you haven't porked his brains out yet?" Hannah never was one to put a filter on what she was thinking, but when it came to your love life she was especially honest.

You get up and pace around the pool, concrete hot against your bare feet. "It wasn't a lust filled night of passion, Hannah," you start. "All we did was make out. Maybe I'm a bad kisser and that's why he hasn't tried to make another move."

"No way!" Hannah exclaims. "Boys are horndogs, they could be kissing a corpse and still be into it."

"Gross," you interrupt. "Tom isn't like any other guys I've met, Han. He's really sweet and caring and he gets totally flustered any time we get flirty." That was a fact. Tom's face could turn red faster than the blink of an eye, as could yours. Neither of you had been particularly proficient when it came to the art of flirting, but you had mastered the art of making eyes at each other from across the room. It felt like both of you were holding back, and you weren't sure when that dam was going to break. You were almost certain it had when you finally kissed, but maybe not after all.

A bark pulls you from your thoughts. Your head whips back to the house and you see Tessa standing at the back door wanting to join you outside. You jog over to the door and let her out. "What is that?" Hannah asks. "Do I hear a dog?"

"It's Tessa." You had told Hannah about the situation with Tom but you had also left out the part about the spare key, meaning you hadn't told her you were at his house at this very moment either.

"Who's Tessa? Am I being replaced as your best friend?" Hannah says sarcastically. Tessa dances around your feet, whining for attention.

"Han, it's Tom's dog, you literally met her when you came over." You pat Tessa on the head before she takes off.

"Oh yeah... I would have remembered her name if she wasn't asleep the whole time I was there!" she pesters.

"She's a dog," you roll your eyes as if Hannah can see you. "Maybe if-"

"Hold the phone, you're at his house?" She interrupts. "Is he there? Are you about to bone? I'm so confused, please explain." Hannah's thoughts often ran a million miles a minute and today was no exception. You didn't mind though, she was just excited that your love life finally had a spark. You'd been hurt in the past and she knew you weren't the most open and willing when it came to dating. It made you happy that she was ecstatic for you, even when she was a little cavalier about it.

"No, he's on set today. I'm just hanging out with Tessa and sunbathing. He gave me a spare key, it isn't a big deal." It wasn't a big deal, really, but you knew Hannah could go on about that one for hours. "I'm just hanging out here until he's back and then maybe I'll try to talk to him about the - uh - incident."

"You mean your tongue down his throat? That incident?" She pesters.

"Yes, that one," you say, rolling your eyes. You settle onto the sun lounger again, just now noticing Tessa digging around in the garden. "Tess! Get out of there, I'm not giving you another bath today."

"I wanna hear whatever details you have after tonight," Hannah insists. "And we need to hang out soon, I miss you."

"I promise, Han, we'll hang out soon." You tuck your phone under the cushion and pull out your sunscreen to apply another layer, but the only thing on your mind is what you want to say to Tom when he's back.

When Tom finally arrives back home it's almost 10 pm. You spent the rest of the afternoon working on homework while Tessa kept herself occupied with a toy. You fed her at dinnertime and made yourself a sandwich. Waiting for Tom made the minutes feel like hours, each one dragging longer than the last. You were antsy for him to come back, but at least the longer it took him to come back, the longer you could put off talking to him about your feelings.

That kiss had left you reeling, even more so than you thought it would. After confessing to Hannah, the scene kept replaying in your head. Every time you forced it out of your mind, that feeling of Tom's hands on your bare skin would pull you back in and you'd be caught up daydreaming about the way his tongue had slid into your mouth. Your hand is gripping your thigh, heat building between your legs just thinking about it. You bury your head in your hands and rub your eyes as if you can rub away the thoughts of Tom in your head. Before you get too caught up again you hear the sound of the garage door opening. Tom's home.

Tessa makes a break for the door and whines until Tom finally opens it. He's got a big bag of takeout in his hands and heads straight for the kitchen, Tessa still sniffing and dancing around his shoes. "I didn't think you'd still be here," he calls over from the island. You make your way from the living room to the kitchen, joining him in the brightly lit room.

"I would've made you dinner if I had known what time you were gonna be back but I wasn't sure." You had texted Tom earlier in the day but he hadn't responded until he was already done on set for the day. By then you had already eaten dinner and you didn't even have time to prep anything for him anyway.

"That's alright love, I was in the mood for shitty takeout anyway." You try to smile but you just scrunch up your mouth instead. All that confidence you had about confronting Tom melts away at the sight of him. He looks a little disheveled, probably just from a long day of work. It seems almost silly now, like bringing up the situation would just annoy him. You decide to bite your tongue and keep it to yourself for now. What's waiting until he has a day off? It wouldn't hurt anything.

Tom looks tired and a little annoyed so you want to be out of his space. "Um, I think I'm just gonna go, I'll let you have some peace and quiet," you say. It was probably nothing, but you wanted to give him his privacy, this was his house after all. "I was just keeping Tessa company anyway."

"You should stay," Tom says abruptly. He doesn't look up from his food, twirling the lo mein around with his fork.

"Are you sure?" You ask, testing the waters. "I don't mind going, I have some homework to do anyway." That was a lie, but if it makes Tom feel better, it made you feel better.

"It was just a long day. The director was really pushing me and I was getting frustrated. It isn't a big deal," Tom explains. He finally looks up at you, the bags under his eyes dark. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to." Tom's eyes are dark and heavy, lids almost swollen. It just now registers that he might've been crying. Frustrated at the very least.

"I know," you say softly, almost whispering. You stop for a minute, looking him up and down. His eyes are trained on his food, his usual cheery demeanor almost entirely absent. He tosses a noodle down and Tessa gobbles it up.

"I'll share my lo mein if you stay," Tom murmurs, finally looking up from his food. You let out a soft chuckle and take a seat next to Tom. He passes over his fork to you and for the first time since he got home, a smile appears on his face. It's a gentle half-smile, but a smile nonetheless. You twirl some noodles onto the fork and bring it to your mouth.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask through a mouthful of noodles.

Tom just shakes his head. "I'd rather hear about what my two girls did today." Tessa's ears perk up at that. She pretends to look to the side away from Tom, pretending like she isn't begging for food.

"Well, it was a pretty relaxed day," you start. "I swam in the pool for a bit and did my homework. Tess tore up another toy." You nod over to the living room, stuffing from the toy littering the ground.

"I'm starting to think you're just using me for my pool," Tom jokes.

"Of course! I don't know what else you thought this was," you joke, hitting his shoulder. "My friend Hannah thinks it's weird, me being at your house all day."

"It is weird," Tom affirms. "It isn't really the most typical of friendships, but I like you, so why not hang out with you instead of being alone? Same goes for Tess, I'm sure she's a lot happier not being alone all day." The statement dances around in your head for a moment. Specifically the word 'friendship' along with 'I like you' storms around in your head. Thomas was good at a lot of things but sending mixed signals was maybe his best talent. "Do you think if I lay on the ground Tess will walk on my back and give me a massage? I'm sore as fuck from stunts today."

"Um," you chuckle, eyebrows scrunched together. "Yeah, I'm not quite sure she's capable of doing that." You let that linger in the air for a moment before blurting out "I could give you a massage, maybe. If you want or whatever?" "Yeah?" He asks, eyes finally meeting yours. "I'll take what I can get."

"Really?" You accidentally blurt. It wasn't like you didn't want to do it but you didn't expect him to actually take you up on it.

"What? Are you too shy?" He cracks. "We've already made out, I hardly think a massage is that scandalous." Your cheeks immediately flush with red, your palms becoming sweaty. This is the first time he's mentioned the make out incident since it happened. He doesn't even look phased as he continues to scarf down the noodles.

"I guess you're right," you hum, fingertips buzzing from the thought of touching Tom. You leave Tom at the island and go back to the living room, Tessa following behind you. You move the coffee table out of the way and set up a blanket and pillow for Tom to lay on.

Tom joins you in the living room, setting his takeout on the coffee table you pushed aside. "Nice set up," he says, examining the space you have laid out. He takes his shirt off and tosses it on to the couch and lays down on the floor on his stomach. Your eyes are like saucers. You had expected this to be a 'through the clothes' kind of massage but you weren't about to ask him to get dressed. You eye him up and down, eyes raking over his back muscles down to the Calvin Klein waistband peeking out from his jeans. Before you even touch him Tessa has gotten up from her bed and is now trying to lick Tom's face off. "Tess!" Tom whines. He gets up and takes her out back, shutting the door so the two of you will be uninterrupted. Tom is back on his stomach so you wordlessly drop to your knees by his side. The tips of your fingers meet his skin, warm and firm. You slowly move your hands up his spine, slowly palming his tense back. You feel him laugh under your hands. "Your hands are so cold, darling," he teases.

"Give it a minute," you say, lightly slapping his back and pretending to hit him. Your hands continue across his shoulders, where he is most tense. Your thumbs dig into the muscle, and Tom moans under you. You dig your thumbs into the same spot again.

"Fuck," he moans again. "You can go harder, I won't break I promise." You weren't exactly trying to be gentle, but it was hard to put your weight into it when you were arched over his side.

"Okay," you start "I just have to...," you trail off as you swing your leg over his waist and you're now straddling him. Tom lets out a soft laugh, but you don't acknowledge it. Now with better leverage, you dig back into his shoulders. Tom's smile is wiped off his face and is replaced with a look of ecstasy as he lets out a long moan.

"Shit," Tom gasps through another moan. "What did you just hit?"

"I guess you have a g-spot in your shoulders." This makes the both of you laugh. You bring your hands down to his shoulder blades and start massaging the muscle that surrounds the area. Tom had some bruising on his back from his stunt work so you didn't want to get too rough with him. Tom moans into the pillow, this time lower and drawn out. "Geez, I hope the neighbors don't hear this, it sounds quite sexual."

"It's better than sex," Tom mutters.

"Oh?"

"Not really, but it's a close second." He turns his head and looks back at you over his shoulder giving you that killer smile. You work your hands lower again, reaching the small of his back. "Am I getting an ass massage too? My glutes are sore from all the running I had to do on set today."

"In your dreams, Holland," you roll your eyes.

"Fine, fine, what about a happy ending?" Tom starts laughing before he can even finish his joke.

"Once again, in your dreams," you tease him, although for a second it crosses your mind that something like that might be in your dreams too. You massage all the way down Tom's back and all the way up to the top again. After about a half hour of massaging Tom, you finally crawl off his back and sit on the floor next to him. Tom's eyes are closed and he's half asleep from the relaxing massage. "Alright, my fingers are about to fall off." Tom slowly flips over onto his back. Your eyes dart to the bulge in his jeans. He isn't totally hard, but he at least has a semi. He doesn't seem to notice or acknowledge it as he rubs his eyes. "What? Only the back side? What about the front?" He teases again.

"You're not getting a happy ending!" You exclaim.

"That isn't even what I meant," Tom says through his grin. "My chest is sore from pull ups and I paid for the full experience!" You shoot him a confused look. "I gave you lo mein, duh."

"Tom, I had like two bites!"

"Yeah! One bite for the back and one for the front!" Tom takes your hand and brings it to his chest.

"Have I told you that you're annoying?" You badger him, caving in to his request. With your hands on his chest, you move your palms in slow circular motions, hands traveling from his chest to his shoulders. You can feel Tom looking at you so you meet his gaze. With Tom facing you everything feels a lot more intimate. You feel every inch of your skin connected to his, the heat radiating from his body to your hands. Tom licks his lips and all you can think about is kissing them again. Before you even know what you're doing you're crawling on top of him and straddling him again. "Um... leverage," is all you can stutter out. Your cheeks are flushed pink but so are Tom's. His eyes travel down your body before slowly grazing back up. Your eyes meet again. Your hands are on his chest, legs around his waist. You're riding him.

Well, sort of. You can feel his bulge pressed against your ass now, straining against his jeans. His hands come up to your waist, taking a firm hold on you. Without a second thought, you bring your face to his, lips crashing again his. Tom captures your bottom lip with his teeth, teasing you before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He traces over your lips before gliding his tongue over yours, flicking against you. Your kisses become needier, filled with lust and desire. Your noses bump together, trying to melt into one another as deep as you can go. Tom pulls your body flush against him, every part of you now rubbing together. Tom's hands explore your back, hands traveling up the back of your shirt. You bring your hands to his face, capturing his strong jaw. Tom consumes you, surrounds you with himself. From his hands on you to his tongue tracing your teeth, you feel yourself falling into him. His breath is warm, spilling into your mouth, his mouth now traveling down your neck. Tom moans against your neck, his guttural groans sending shivers down your spine, you can feel yourself getting wet. You gasp, fingers catching in Tom's hair, slowly grinding your body against his. You bring your lips to his about to press them against his again but then...

Both of you hear a whining followed by a bark. Tessa wants back inside. "She'll be fine," Tom says, his lips returning to your neck.

"No, it's fine, we don't make her stay outside. It's not like there aren't other places we can make out," you say as you get off of him, standing up. "Besides, when was the last time you even vacuumed?"

"Not since I moved in," Tom says as you go to the back door to let Tessa in. She trots into the living room, ignoring Tom and going straight for the lo mein, burying her nose in the takeout container. "Tess!" Tom chides her. "No, nasty!" Tom drags her by the collar away from the food. You can't help yourself but giggle at how things went from you on top of Tom to Tessa stealing his food. "Go on, go put yourself in timeout!" Tessa's head hangs as she slowly walks up the stairs.

"Aw, c'mon Tom she just wanted a bite! Plus you deserve it, you locked her outside."

"Whatever," Tom says as he rolls his eyes, taking his food to the trash can to throw away. Finally, with a moment to breathe, you check your phone. It's nearing midnight and you have some work to get done tomorrow.

"I should probably get going, I have to be up in the morning and it's getting a bit late." Tom looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that he has perfected but all he does is nod. He walks you to the door and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure," you smile at him before returning the kiss, this time on his lips. "See you tomorrow, Tom."

The next day it was around 7:30 pm and the sun was already beginning to set. After a long day of working from your computer, you were ready to throw in the towel. After taking a bath, you decide to text Tom and ask if he is almost home from set. It isn't until 9:00 pm when he finally responds. Just got home. Come over. Without a second thought, you get dressed and walk over to his house. As soon as your knuckles meet the dark wood of his front door, it opens to Tom's face, brightly lit with a smile. "Miss me?" Tessa comes running out the front door and sniffing at your feet.

"Tessa clearly missed me," you say, flashing a smile back at Tom.

"I missed you more," he says as he moved out of the doorframe and motions for you to come in.

"Were things easier on set today?" After how run down he looked the other day, you were hoping he was still feeling okay after another long day.

"Not too bad. Nothing a genius like me can't handle," he says as he ruffles his hair.

"I guess that explains why your head is so big."

"What!" Tom shouts, cocking his head at you. Tom grabs you around the shoulders and starts messing up your hair.

"I'm kidding, you dork!" You tell him, grabbing a hold of his arm, all too aware of the muscles underneath his soft skin. Tom releases you from his strong grasp. "Your head is perfectly average sized."

"Thank you!"

"Your ego on the other hand," you start. Tom's eyes widen again, ready to lunge at you. "Kidding again!"

"You better be," he jokes, pulling you in close again. This time his hands are wrapped around your waist, head tilted over yours. He brings his face to yours, closing the distance, lips meeting again. So this is what you were now? Intimate. More than friends. Nothing was set in stone, making you all the more nervous. You move your lips against his, falling into his kiss once again. Once you pull away you smile at him, but Tom can tell there's something off about the look on your face. "Is everything okay?" He asks, hands falling off your waist.

"I just... um," you start, shaking your head. "I hate to sound so cliche but what are we?"

"Friends?" Tom says, a confused look on his face. You return the confused look back.

"Just friends?" "Well, um, special friends," Tom clarifies. Clarifies in a way that clarities absolutely nothing. You take a step away from him.

"What does that mean exactly?" You look deep in to Tom's eyes. It's hard to tell what he's thinking.

He's wearing his glasses today making him look cute as ever. His hands are pulled tight by his sides, clearly showing he's a little on edge. "I guess I don't know exactly." Tom leans against the counter, putting a little more space between the two of you. "I just...," Tom trails off. "I can't really be in a relationship right now."

"What? Why?" You demand, the edge in your voice all too clear. You don't mean to sound pushy or even sound angry, but having your emotions toyed with is something you've never put up with. Knowing your worth has always been important to you and you didn't like to play games. You and Tom had been flirty from the start, so there was obviously something between you. In a matter of seconds, every interaction you've had with Tom flies through your head, analyzing everything from mixed signals, missed opportunities, to your especially erotic massage make out session last night. Had you missed something? What weren't you getting? What wasn't Tom getting?

Tom's mouth hangs open for a second as he tries to articulate what he's thinking. The seconds stretch out in front of you, feeling like years. "I'm not gonna be here forever," he starts. "I'm constantly going back and forth between places. In two months, once I'm done with this shoot, I'll be back in London for who knows how long." You feel the ground start shifting under you as Tom talks. Tom, the guy you had been slowly developing feelings for no matter how hard you tried not too. Tom, the guy who was jaw droppingly gorgeous and the sweetest gentleman you've ever met. Tom, the guy who didn't want to date you.

You try to muster up a response but you have no idea what to say. Now it's your turn for your mouth to hang up. "I guess I don't know what to say." "You don't have to say anything," Tom says, closing the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you again. "Why do we even need to have a label on it? Why can't we just enjoy each other's company? I've loved spending time with you and I don't want that to change."

"But...," you start.

"But I just can't have a relationship right now, love." Tom places a kiss on your forehead. I have to be a million places all over the world as soon as press for my next movie starts. It would just make it harder on both of us and I can't do that to you. I can't promise you something when I know it isn't going to work out." You do your best to suppress rolling your eyes. After all this time of being a total gentleman, now he wants to be a fuckboy like every other guy in California? Hannah would definitely be hearing about this later.

"Sure," you say bluntly. You were irritated and you just wanted the conversation to be over. If Tom didn't want a girlfriend then fine, you wouldn't push the envelope, but you wouldn't let him play with your emotions either.

"Please, don't be mad at me-"

"I'm not," you interrupt. "I guess I'm just disappointed. Let's just drop it." You cross your arms and lean against the counter.

Tom crosses his arms too and stays silent for a moment. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I can't lead you on I couldn't keep that from you."

"It's fine," you reiterate. "It's whatever. I'm glad you told me." You really were glad he told he told you. Glad you could keep yourself from getting more hung up on him. You uncross your arms to keep yourself from looking too upset. "So what's the plan? Are you making me dinner or do I have to do everything around here?" There was a stillness and a comfort around you. Without worrying about a potential relationship you could just enjoy yourself, right?

Tom cracks a small smile of that, breaking through the troubled look on his face. "How about I buy you takeout instead." You jokingly roll your eyes, making fun of his inability to cook.

Friends. There was nothing wrong with friends. Watching Tom as he grabbed his phone to order food, you thought to yourself that there were plenty more fish in the sea.

"I don't think I'm understanding," Hannah ranted. You texted her as soon as you got back from Tom's and she immediately made plans to come over the next day. Now the two of you were laying in your room listening to music as you so often did before you started spending so much time at Tom's house.

You pull your blanket over your head, groaning into the soft covers. "I don't even know why I got so invested. I'm sorry I haven't been around as much, I shouldn't have let trying to get with Tom take up so much of my time."

"Don't say that!" Hannah asserts. "You're still in desperate need of dick and it doesn't always just come to you, you have to put in work for it sometimes!"

"But I didn't even get any!" You whine. "Besides that wasn't what I was going for! Haven't you ever heard of happily ever after?" "My happily ever after includes me getting good dick." While Hannah is talking you get up from your bed and go over to your bay window, sitting down on the cushions. "His dick isn't even off the table either, hun. I know it isn't exactly what you were hoping for but you don't have to go back to the nunnery just yet." "I think that's called a convent," you tease. Hannah always knew how to make you smile even when you were feeling down. Hannah sits up from the bed and joins you at the window. You look over at Tom's backyard to see him coming outside with a towel, about to go for a swim. "Listen, boys change up like the weather all the time. They never know what they want and they're always changing their minds. It doesn't matter if you and Tom aren't destined to be together, just have some fun." Hannah grabs your hands, pulling you close. "I know you're never satisfied with guys and they're always letting you down, but you've been the happiest hanging out with Tom than you have been in a while. You don't have to totally cut him out just because he's a little bit of a douche. We already knew that hun, he's a guy they're all dicks."

You let out a soft laugh and nod. Hannah had a point. She always did, she was too smart for her own good. "I'm not gonna tell you you're right because you already know you are."

"Of course I'm right, babes," Hannah says as she hugs you. "Have some fun, let loose! You practically wet yourself when you made out with him. It's up to you, hun, do whatever you want. Do you know what you want?"

You look out to Tom's yard and watch as he dives headfirst into the pool. Dating Tom might not be in your future, but there was obviously something between you. Did you know what you wanted?

You took a few days to yourself to think about your situation. Tom had been texting you but your responses were inconsistent and sporadic. He asked you to come over more than once but you told him you were busy or had plans with Hannah, which wasn't technically lying as Hannah had come over for a few nights to watch movies. Now, it was the weekend and you had spent most of the day laying in bed. Tom was at work but you had texted him and asked to come over later. He replied almost instantly with an absolutely. Tom didn't seem to be upset with you even though you pulled had a bit of a disappearing act. He could probably imagine how confused you had been over the past few days. But you weren't confused anymore. Tom was just a boy and you were just a girl. And you were just a girl wanting to let loose.

You found yourself in Tom's living room once more. Tom was on one side of the couch and you were on the other. It had felt a bit awkward since you had come over, but the conversation had been flowing as usual. You had fallen back into your typical poking fun at each other banter and Tom had put on some shitty horror movie. "Why do you always have to put on shitty movies like this, why can't we watch a good one?"

"Well if it's a shitty movie then we can make fun of it. We always end up talking over it anyway," he explains.

"Then why don't you put on music or something, dummy," you tease.

"Fine!" Tom caves in. He turns off the movie and pulls up Spotify on the TV, turning on one of his playlists. "Alright missy, you got your wish, now what do you want to talk about."

"First we can talk about how Chris Evans is so much hotter than you," you joke. Tom tosses a pillow at your face but you smack it out of the way before it hits you. "I'm kidding Mr. Holland, you're the hottest superhero."

"Damn right," Tom says, smile proud on his face. You roll your eyes at that.

Would now be a good time to ask him? runs through your head. You've thought about it for days now, so why pussy out? It's just a few simple words. "Tom, I...," you trailed off.

"Huh?"

"I, um... ," you started again. "Um, do you have any snacks?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Tom says as he got up from the couch. He disappeared into the kitchen to grab whatever the fuck he thought you wanted. Shit was all you could think. You always froze up at the last second, always too scared to shoot your shot. After a minute, Tom came back with an assortment of snacks. He dropped the pile of snacks on the couch next to you and took a seat on the other side. "Plenty?" Tom asks as he digs his hand into a bag of chips.

"Yeah," you start again. "Actually, um, I meant to ask about the other day." Tom looks up from his chips, mouth full and his loud crunching distracting you. He doesn't interrupt, just keeps looking at you. "About the relationship thing..."

"Hun, I-"

"You're not looking for a relationship," you interrupt him. "That's fine, I know, but... why don't we just... have fun then?" Tom studies your face for a minute. His eyebrows are scrunched together and the look of confusion takes over his face.

"I'm sorry," he starts. "What exactly are you asking?"

Hannah's words fly through your head: just have fun. "Fun, like I said," you say, looking him in the eyes, his tight knit eyebrows slowly coming undone. "No strings attached."

"Friends with benefits?" Tom asks.

"Exactly," you explain. "You don't want a relationship and I don't want to get my feelings hurt. But that doesn't mean I'm not still... attracted to you." Tom keeps his eyes trained on you, watching you as he chews on his bottom lip. "You can say no, I'm just thinking out loud."

"Are you sure?" He asks. You weren't fully sure of yourself, but these days you often weren't. The world kept going even when you were standing still, so what was the point in waiting around to question yourself any longer?

"Yes," you blurt. "We have a good thing going for us already, I mean. And we're both adults with needs so... why not?" The silence hangs in the air for another moment, the atmosphere in the room warm and still. Your hands are clammy and your face is definitely on fire. You weren't often bold like this and it was a new sensation to you.

"Well then... why not?" Tom finally says. "I mean, I'm not exactly sure how to go about this I guess."

You weren't exactly sure how this would go either. Or even how it would start. "We can just let things happen organically and see what happens."

Tom nodded, tossing the bag of chips aside. "So we can make out now?" He looked like an eager kid in a candy store.

You laughed at him and rolled your eyes. "I said organically, Thomas."

After talking to Tom about the new aspects of your friendship, you decided to turn the shitty horror movie back on to fill the silence while you retreated into your thoughts. It was hard to tell what Tom was thinking and it made you more nervous that he might be thinking this was a bad idea. He seemed excited enough, but your doubts had a way of getting the better of you. You were so shrouded in your thoughts you hadn't even noticed the movie was over. "Not as shitty as the last one but still pretty shitty," Tom commented.

"I get to pick the movie next time," you declared.

Tom laid down on the couch, using your lap as a pillow. "My taste is immaculate, don't be jealous." You rolled your eyes at that one. "Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"I think so. Every night before I go to bed you tell me I'm gorgeous and the most important woman in the world," you pester him.

"No, that's Tess," he says laughing.

"Whatever," you roll your eyes.

"You are gorgeous though," he says again. "I know I've put you in a complicated situation and all, but you're the fittest girl I've ever met. You're stunning and you're way smarter than me."

"Clearly," you tease him again.

"And I'm not just complimenting you to get in your pants, I really mean it," Tom says. "I just... are you really sure about this?" Tom looks into your eyes. His eyes are soft in gentle. Everything about him is soft and gentle. He's so sweet and compassionate and caring that you start to feel your doubts melt away. Maybe you weren't making the right decision, but it was a decision that still made you happy. You push him off your lap and force him to sit up. Before he can say anything else, you press your lips against his. It's softer than your last kiss, this one more gentle and subdued. Your lips move in sync, pushing into one another, slow and passionate like you have all the time in the world. Tom runs his hands through your hair, pulling you into him.

Tom pulls back for a second to look at you. "Is this okay?" He asks, voice heavy with desire. You nod your head and lean back in, lips meeting his again. You deepen this kiss this time, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Tom's breathing is getting heavier by the second as the kiss becomes more intense. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer until he has you in his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck as you straddle him. Your tongue slides against his, teeth clashing as the kiss becomes sloppier. Tom pulls away again, this time his lips shiny and starting to redden from your lips hungrily attacking each other. "Should we take this upstairs?" His voice is low and gruff, saturated with lust. You try your best to formulate words but all you can is nod your head.

Tom leads you up the stairs. He brings you to his bedroom, which you haven't been in since the first night you came to Tom's house. He closes the door behind you and dims the lights, giving the room a soft, sensual glow. Tom backs you up against the edge of the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it. Tom crawls on top of you, kissing up your neck as he comes back to your lips.

Your hands find their way under his shirt, slowly traveling up his back. Tom breaks to kiss to take his shirt off, pulling it over his head. You watch as his abdomen muscles ripple as he moves before his mouth is all over yours again. You can already feel the heat building between your legs, the wetness forming as your desire for Tom burns like a wildfire. He kisses back down your neck to your collarbone until his lips meet the fabric of your shirt. "Can I take it off you?" He asks, looking up at you. His puppy dog eyes now taking a different form, something more raw and needy.

You sit up as Tom grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over top of your head. "I don't think I've ever told you how great your tits are," Tom teases.

"Shut up," you laugh, shaking your head at him. You unclasp your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders. Tom's mouth practically gapes at the sight of your bare breasts.

"Wow," is all he can muster. You giggle at him as you back your way to the top of the bed, Tom following right behind you. With you on your back, he crawls between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He slowly grinds his body against yours and you can feel his erection through his sweatpants. You palm his bulge, feeling the harness through the fabric. Tom moans into your mouth as his tongue meets yours again, warm breaths exchanged between you. Tom begins to slide down, his bare skin against yours as he goes. He kisses a trail down your neck before choosing a spot to slowly lick and caress with his tongue, gently sucking in a way that will be sure to leave a mark. His hands find your breasts, taking a handful and slowly rubbing them and creating friction against your nipples. A gentle moan leaves your lips, giving Tom the green light to let him know that you love what he's doing. After he's satisfied with the mark he's left on your neck he lowers his face to your tits, his tongue finding the nipple. Tom gently begins to suck and graze his teeth of your sensitive nipples, now hard from Tom's work. This time you let out a louder moan, knotting your fingers into Tom's hair as his warm, wet tongue focuses on your erogenous zone. Tom moves to the other side, his tongue lashing at the tender skin, driving you crazy before you're even fully undressed.

"Fuck, Tom," you let out a breathy moan. He looks up at you, nipple in his mouth and lets out a low moan. You bite your lip at the sexy sight of him. While Tom is still working on you, you start to wiggle out of your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with one hand. Tom notices you struggling and helps slide them off of you. With his warm mouth gone, the cold air hits your skin where he has left it wet with his tongue.

With your pants gone, you're left only in your underwear, and Tom looks captivated by the sight. "You're so fucking sexy, love," Tom practically moans. He positions his head between your thighs and kisses each one, licking his way back up. His mouth meets the fabric of your panties and he lets out a hot breath that breaks through the thin fabric. By now you're practically soaked from anticipation, desperately aching to feel his tongue on you. Tom hooks his fingers across the fabric, moving it to the side without taking them off. He licks a tantalizing slow strip up your slit, his tongue finding it's way between your slit, enveloping him in your heat. "So fucking wet for me," he moans against you. Tom's mouth feels like heaven against you, his soft lips rubbing against you, his tongue working it's way in and out of you, gliding up and down your slit. Tom grabs your ass, slightly lifting you off the bed to slide your panties down to your ankles. He spreads your legs as far apart as he can before his head finds it's place between your legs again. His lips wrap around your clit, slowly licking against the nub before grazing his teeth against it. You involuntarily gasp for air and moan, throwing your head back against the pillow as your hips buck up against his tongue. You look back down to watch Tom as he gently assaults your clit with his tongue, eyes trained on you. "Keep your eyes on me," Tom murmurs against you.

"O-okay," you manage to get out between moans. It had been a while since a guy had gone down on you but this was already a million times better than you had ever had before. Tom lets out a gentle puff of air onto your sensitive, throbbing clit. You struggle to keep your eyes open, watching Tom as he expertly works every inch of you. Your hand finds it's way to his hair again, your fingers threading through his hair, keeping his head in place. Tom's head is moving up and down now, his tongue traveling over your soaked folds. Tom has one hand on your thigh keeping you spread open as he moves the other one to hover over your clit. As his head moves down further, his thumb takes the place of his tongue, now rubbing your clit in circles.

Tom moans against you again, sending deep vibrations into you that you feel in your core. "You taste so fucking good," he groans.

"Please, fuck, please," you moan. "More." Your hips are slowly bucking in rhythm with his tongue, your juices flowing from how turned on you are. "Fuck," you gasp. "Please... fingers." Tom wordlessly responds. He lifts his head up spitting onto your opening, saliva and your juices dripping from his lips. It's messy and sloppy and probably the hottest thing you've ever seen. Tom uses his spit and your wetness to easily slide his index finger inside you. "Fucking hell," you gasp. You sit up on your elbows to get a better view of Tom as his tongue travels back to your clit, as he buries a second finger inside you. "Tom, fuck!" You cry out. Tom curls his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out, quickly picking up the pace. The faster he goes, the more stars that start to appear in your vision. "Tom, I'm getting close," you warn. You feel your body begin to get warm all over, that pit of pleasure building in your stomach. Tom begins to pick up the pace of his fingering, his tongue lapping aggressively at your clit, swirling around it and gently biting it. "Fuck, fuck!" You scream as your body starts to fall to pieces. You feel your orgasm wash over you, starting in the pit of your stomach and reaching all the way to the tips of your toes and back up. A sob escapes your throat as your toes curl and the orgasm finished wracking through your body. "Holy shit, Tom, where'd you learn to do that?"

"Practice," he says, flashing that cheeky smile at you. Although this time he has your juices drenching his lips and chin. Tom comes up from beneath your legs, planting a wet kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips but that seems to only turn you on more.

You pull away and give him a devilish grin. "My turn?"

"You're naughty," he teases. "But absolutely," Tom crawls off of you and falls beside you on his back, putting a pillow behind him to prop himself up. His hard on is still raging through his sweatpants, a small patch of precum leaking through the grey fabric. Fuck, his bulge looks big. You run your hand across his bulge, palming at his hard member. Tom hooks his thumbs over his waistband and slides his sweatpants down, cock smacking against his stomach as it jumps out from his underwear. His cock is long and hard, precum dripping from the tip. His cock is red and straining, throbbing from how excited he is. Without hesitation, you grab his cock, slowly pumping the thick meat. You rub your thumb against the head, spreading the precum over it and dragging it down his shaft. "Fuck, baby," Tom moans, head falling back against the headboard. You tease his cock, jerking him off at a tantalizingly slow pace, letting the tension build.

After teasing him with your hand, you bring your mouth down to the head of his cock and flick your tongue against it. Tom lets out a breathy moan and tangles his fingers into your hair, pushing your head down with a bit of force. You take the head into your mouth, tongue finding the sensitive spot under the tip. Tom's cock was already hard but you felt it grow rock hard in your mouth, his pre cum leaking into your mouth now, hot and salty. You bob your head up and down, opening your throat up for him. "Your mouth feels so fucking good," Tom pants, thrusting his hips up into your mouth. You grab his balls, slowly tugging at them and working them around with your fingers until his cock is buried entirely down your throat. Tears escape your eyes but you keep yourself from gagging, pulling off his cock. You lick a stripe up his shaft and back down, taking a second to play with his balls in your mouth, tongue traveling around his sack. You take his cock down into your mouth again and he thrusts up into your throat. Tom pushes you down further onto his cock, fucking your mouth. You gag a couple of times before you get the hang of it, but once you do Tom is thrusting into your throat with ease.

Tom's breathing is heavy and labored as he breaks out into a sweat. He raises up his hand, bringing it down on your ass, causing a loud smack, leaving a red hand print on your ass. "Open your legs for me, baby," he commands. You do as he says and he leans forward so he can reach you, his long fingers finding their way in your slit again. He collects your wetness and brings it to your mouth. You open up for him and taste yourself on him, your tongue dancing around his fingers. You moan onto his fingers before he pushes you back down onto his cock again. He leans forward again, this time his fingers meeting your entrance, sliding into you to the knuckle. He fingers you fast and rough, the sounds of your wetness turning him on even more.

"I can't take it any longer I need to be inside you now," Tom demands, standing up on the bed as you pull off of his cock. "Get on your hands and knees." You do as he says, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed. He gets on his knees, his face in line with your dripping pussy. He buries his face in it, tongue licking it's way through your folds, making you gasp and scream with pleasure.

"Fuck!" You moan, burying your face into his duvet. "Tom, it feels so fucking good!" As you're gasping into the pillow, Tom gets up from his knees and lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, slapping his head against your soaked folds. You bite your lip and push your hips back against him, begging to feel the fullness of his cock inside you.

Tom teases you with his cock, holding your hips in place, making you wait and beg for him to give you what you want. "You want more?" All you can muster is a moan as you push against him harder. He slides the head inside you, slowly opening up your entrance. "So fucking tight."

"Oh, fuuuck!" You cry out, mouth hanging open as he slides another inch inside. He slides in until he's halfway in and you can feel yourself stretching around him, the heat of your tight walls adjusting to his size. "Tom, please," you hiss. "More, please." Tom adheres to your begs, sliding in the rest of his cock with a quick, hard stroke, balls slapping against you. "Ah, fuck, Tom!" You moan, gasps and hisses falling from your mouth. You try to form a sentence, tell him you love it, tell him it feels fucking amazing, tell him his cock is bringing you the most pleasure you've ever felt, but all you can muster is garbled moans and cries.

Tom starts pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, his hips slapping against yours. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his rhythm steady and consistent as he fills you up. Tom grabs you by the hair and pulls you up, your bodies flush against each other. He buries his face in your neck, licking and sucking on the mark he already left on you, the skin still sensitive from the earlier assault. Tom's hand travels down to your now easily accessible clit, his index and middle finger rubbing in circles in time with the rhythm of his thrusts. "You're so fucking wet... dripping down my cock," Tom grunts through gritted teeth. "Fucking hell, your pussy was made for me."

Tom pulls out of you and spins you around then pushes you back on the bed. He crawls between your legs and lifts them onto his shoulders, centering his cock with your entrancing and sliding his entire length back into with a resounding thrust. "Fuck!" You cry out, grabbing hold of his arms, feeling the veins that wrap around his muscles under the soft skin. Tom immediately picks the pace back up, the bed squeaking and shaking from the ferocity of his fucking.

"Play with yourself, I wanna see you touch your clit while I'm fucking you," Tom orders. Your hand flies down to your clit, fingers toying with yourself. It feels even better with him inside you, every thrust sending a shockwave to your core.

You throw your head back, letting your body succumb to the pleasure. "Tom! Fuck I can't...," you trail off. You try to warn Tom that he's getting you close, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust, but the pleasure has left you unable to form words. Tom brings your legs down from his shoulders and wraps them around his waist. Tom lays his body across yours, bare skin rubbing against bare skin, gliding over the other from sweat. Tom wraps one arm behind your head, bringing your face together, lips meeting as he buries his cock deep inside you, the head rubbing against your sweet spot as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, hitting that spot deep inside you over and over. "Tom!" You moan into his mouth. You feel the pressure building in your stomach each time he buries himself deeper. You grab his hand from your waist and push it to your clit, begging him to give you your release. Tom gets the memo and starts to rub your clit in circles with the rough pad of his thumb.

"Such a dirty girl for me," he moans into your mouth. You feel your body start to convulse. You grab on to his shoulders, your walls closing in around him. Tom picks up the pace of his thrusting, burying his cock as deep inside you as he can, working on your clit harder, collecting your wetness on his fingers to use on your clit.

"Tom," you gasp. "Fuck, don't stop!" Your hips buck and your legs shake, Tom hitting your sweet spot as you feel the pressure release. The pleasure washes over you, your mouth hanging open as guttural moans escape your mouth. You close your eyes, stars swirling around your vision as you feel your orgasm reaching it's peak. Tom knows what he's doing to you and he's loving every second, feeling your walls tighten on his cock, feeling your body shake in his hands as he pushes you over the point of no return. You buck your hips onto his cock, riding out the waves of your orgasm as you start coming down.

Tom gives you a few more thrusts before he grunts in your ear, his thrusts becoming short and hard as his body tenses up. He lets out a final groan before his pulsing cock begins to spurt his ribbons of cum inside you, holding your hips steady as he realizes inside you. "Fuck!" He grunts through gritted teeth. "Fucking hell," he moans, pumping inside you, his spent cock throbbing and twitching, fucking the cum out of you, letting it drip from your opening. Tom's mouth meets yours again, tongues intertwining as you pant and moan into each other's mouths, hardly able to move from how spent the both of you are.

Breathing heavy, the air hot and sticky, Tom is the first to break the post-orgasm silence. "I can't even remember the last time I came that hard," he smiles, breaking out into a laugh.

You bury your head into your hands, hiding your face from him. "So we really did that, huh?" You peek out through your fingers to see him flash that cheeky grin at you. You start laughing and shaking your head. "Such a dork."

"A dork who made you cum harder than you ever have before," he teases, leaving one final kiss to your neck. You roll your eyes at that, even though it was the truth.

Tom gets up from the bed to grab a towel from the bathroom. He turns on the shower before coming back, placing a towel beside you. "So," he starts. "Again tomorrow?"

"Obviously," you giggle, flashing him a devilish smile. Oh boy, what had you gotten yourself into?

Taglist: @hollanddolanfangirl @quaksvn @fandom-phaser @hollands-osterfield @evanssgi @happytsholland @lu-morningstar @ilivefortomhholland @quaksonhehe @ninjassassin13 @softholand

381 notes · View notes