#taking a much needed break from my computer. may be back later tonight or not since it's ...almost 2am.

[persesphonestears]

Another tattoo

(Gif not mine :>)

A/N: So I have to make this a more than one part series because I wrote like way too much and I’m gonna die if I don’t post this already. Also so sorry it’s only Ghost in this post, but promise the second part will have the others!! I actually had so much fun writing this like omfg, I don’t have any piercings or tats for myself thanks to money problems atm but like actually I don’t know where I was going with that- uh anyway enjoy! I’m very tired. (looking at the amount now seems rlly small so sorry :/) ALSO I FUCKIN HATE THE NAME TOO LEAVE ME ALONE.

CW: He/they pronouns used for reader(? I might have ended up just using they/them), Reader has tattoos and piercings, I DONT THINK I USED Y/N LES GOO, I call ghost Simon when he isn't at work, Probably incorrect tattoo health procedures, Reader may be a little bland when first meeting Ghost(?), small mentions of gods(?)

Word count: 1342

Simon was finally let off for a break, given it’s only because Price knew he wasn’t keeping himself healthy or sleeping, so being the ‘dad’ boss he is, Simon was forced to take time off. While Simon wasn’t even close to being happy about having to not stay at base and having to make himself food and all the other human necessities, he’d been wanting a new tattoo for some time now. While maybe some of the privates would simply tattoo each other with pen ink, he’d rather die on the field than die from an infection from a more than likely shitty tattoo.

Walking through the somewhat dodgy looking part of his hometown, looking for a seemingly decent tattoo shop. While walking his eye was caught by the small little tattoo shop that looked clean and not all that dodgy. A small bell as the door opened rang as Simon stepped through, looking around at the walls he was impressed with the artwork that was displayed. He could hear faint 2000s rock music in the background of the shop, standing awkwardly waiting to see if anyone was actually here.

Turning around to walk out, he heard a small crash and a string of curses that followed.

Simon stopped and turned to see a short tattooed and pierced person walking out from the back of the shop. “Hi, sorry I was uh..” their talking trailed off as he looked down to see a fresh and unfinished tattoo on their leg. Unknown to Simon, the person in front of him was just very very happy that they weren’t able to be seen from the back, preferring not to be caught staring at the huge 6’4 man in their shop. 

“Uh anyway, I’m guessing you don’t have an appointment cause I don’t have any till later tonight, but I take walk in’s, both for tats and piercings'' They rambled off as they walked around to the front desk checking through their computer, Simon watched them, surprised by the feeling of fluttering in his stomach. Pushing it away he cleared his throat “Uh yeah walk in, are you able to tat up my other forearm?” he was wearing a t-shirt under his hoodie, happy he wasn’t going to be taking his shirt off. “Mhm sure, I just need to ask a few questions and then get you to sign some consent forms, that cool?” He asked walking back around and sitting on one of the couch chairs at the front, taking a seat after them, Simon sat and agreed to the others' request.

“Cool, alright so first is which arm you want it on obviously and if you have any tattoos on your forearm already?” Simon answered with short and gruff answers “My right arm and no, my left is already tattooed(I think I can’t remember which arm of his is tatted).” “Right cool okay so I’m not gonna bother asking if you're of age because it's pretty obvious because holy shit you are probably the biggest and hottest man I’ve ever seen, but just read through these quick and sign ‘em” Thanking whatever gods there were for people not being able to read minds. Handing the forms to Simon he grabbed them and the pen from your hands, giving a quick read through signing where he had to. Putting them back on the desk, you grabbed them right back and skimmed through them, “Okay Simon, well what do you want?”.

—tiny time skip–

After setting everything up and placing the stencil of the sketch that you drew up (That Simon wouldn’t admit but absolutely adored) onto the gruff military man that was sitting in your chair. “Okay, you ready?” A simple nod was what you received in response. Instead of pushing you continued to go ahead and start his tattoo, not once deciding to ask about some of the many scars that graced his arms. Them seemingly adding onto your attraction for the stranger in your shop as he sat still and silent. Becoming; as you do when tattooing, engrossed in the soft buzzing, the hushed music of your playlist and the ink going into skin at your hand.

“How many do you ‘got?” The gruff voice from above me spoke as I continued to stab his skin. “Tats or piercings?” Responding with another question as I kept my focus on the shading, trying to not let the fact that this absolute 10/10 was asking you about yourself. Sure it was most likely to just make conversation but you could dream. “Both?” The voice behind the black surgical mask didn’t sound overly confident but even when peeking up at the man he was still only looking forward. “I stopped counting how many tats I got a while ago. As for my piercings uh..” cutting myself off to count in my head. “I’d say about 9, not counting my ears.” Feeling a cold gaze turn towards me I stiffen slightly. 

“You only have 6 on your face.” (I chose to give reader a vertical labret, septum, both sides of the nose(like so you could use a chain), bridge, eyebrow :D) His voice replies, stifling my laugh “yeah I know I just don’t normally let people see my chest or just randomly show my stomach.” Giggling, I look up to see his ears turning a slight pink. “R-right sorry.” Trying not to laugh at a client, we continued to talk for a bit more before I suggested to put a movie on more to make it less uncomfortable for me with the awkward conversation. After picking a movie, he seemed to relax just a tad more, getting myself comfortable. I continued to finish up the art piece I was adding to someone's skin.

—another time skip because Ghost would get something edgy and big and I can’t keep writing silly awkwardness—

By the time you had finished and made sure to add some disinfectant and soothing cream to the skin before wrapping it up. You pat his shoulder smiling softly “you’re all done big guy”. Rising from the seat, he walked somehow (even though this man is huge) silently towards the front desk. Scanning his card and giving him the papers that explained how to look after his tattoo. “Thank you. You’re uhm. Very handsome- or uh pretty? I don’t know, can I just get your number?” Stumbling over his words brought a smile to your face. “Sure, I’d uh I’d actually really like it if you took my number” you ramble as you grab some scrap paper, quickly writing your personal number you hand it to him.

Seeing his eyes scrunch slightly, let you know he was smiling at you, and god almighty if the fact that this huge, scary, masked, stoic, man giving you a smile, that you couldn’t even see, wouldn’t make you swoon. Giving you a quick nod he walked out, the small bell above your door ringing in your ears as you watched him leave. 

Giggling to yourself as you stupidly fist pumped the air and twirled around happily, not registering the sound of the bell being rung, indicating the opening of a door. What you did register was the once again gruff voice, clearing their throat as you turned back to look at the man who just left back in your shop. “Forgot ma’ cap.” Swiftly grabbing his hat back with what you could only assume was the smuggest look ever he turned back around. This time leaving you with a curt “Bye now, doll”

Leaving you red faced, in the middle of your own shop. Snapping out of it you groaned loudly before retreating to the floor, hidden by the desk. Cursing yourself for your stupid victory jig you did before even making sure that he wouldn’t come back for a bit. A buzz in your pocket distracted you from your internal dread, pulling out your phone and opening it to see a message from an unknown number. “That lil’ dance was very cute btw”.

A/N: *twerks cutely* ANYWAY

[greymoonfeelings]

When in Doubt, Dance it Out

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader

summary: Work has been depleting all your energy, but Bradley knows just the thing to cheer you up.

word count: 655

I recommend listening to “My Girl” before or during reading to best imagine the scenario.

•••

Bradley has no idea what is going on with you tonight. When he arrived home, you only responded to his greeting with an incoherent mumble. To his knowledge, you have yet to eat dinner, but when he offered to order takeout you brushed him off.

Later in the night, you skip out on cuddling up with him to watch the newest episode of your favorite show (a ritual you never failed to partake in) and now he’s been home for five hours with barely so much as an acknowledgment.

The only indication as to what is occupying all of your attention is the loud groans and frustrated typing coming from your workspace. Bradley can tell that you’re exhausted, but he knows the one thing that never fails to pick you up.

While chipping away at your latest assignment, you hear music start to play from the bedroom. The song echoes down the hallway, loud enough to break your concentration.

“Would you mind turning that down?” No response.

“Would you mind turning that down?” No response.

Instead of getting up to confront your fiancé, you try your best to ignore the music. However, the beat slowly grows louder as the source approaches the living room. You recognize the tune and accompanying snapping.

“I’ve got so much honey the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees.”

Bradley’s deep voice causes you to once again lose focus on the task at hand. You need to finish this presentation before your meeting tomorrow afternoon, but your fiancé’s antics were not making it easy. He knows how much you love to hear him sing, it practically turns you to jello, which is why it’s the last thing you need right now.

“Well, I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?”

“I wouldn’t say that because I know what you’re about to do.” You respond sardonically, still not looking away from your computer. Your lack of enthusiasm doesn’t deter Bradley though.

“My girl.” Your fiancé pops around your left side and then around your right as he sings the next “my girl”.

Bradley puts one hand on the back of your chair spinning you away from your desk so he can sing directly to you, “My girl. Talking ‘bout my girl.”

He continues serenading you, putting on a whole show in your living room. Bradley sure knew how to move to a beat. If you weren’t so entranced by his moves you may have questioned where he learned them.

When the next verse starts, Bradley's shoulders shimmy as he glides across the hardwood floor, offering his hand for you to take.

“I don’t need no money, fortune or fame.” Hesitantly you place your hand in his larger one allowing him to pull you up from your seat. “I’ve got all the riches, baby, one man can claim.” Your fiancé twirls you until your chest collides with his causing you both to burst out into laughter.

“You’re one hell of a charmer. Did anyone ever tell you that, Bradshaw?”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice.” His answer has you playfully rolling your eyes. “Will you take a break? I know you didn’t eat, sweetheart.”

“Well, I guess I can finish this tomorrow morning.” Bradley cheers in success. “But only if you make me some of that famous Bradshaw mac and cheese and feed it to me while we watch the new episode on HBO.”

“About that…” Your fiancé nervously smiles.

“You watched it without me? Bradley!”

He immediately throws his hands up in defense. “I asked you if you wanted me to wait. You just waved me off.”

“This is grounds for divorce!”

“We’re not even married yet!”

“Well, now it’s never gonna happen.”

“Aw, don’t say that, baby. You know you want to be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

“I’m gonna be stuck on you like that damn mustache is stuck on your face.”

[darlingflight-archived]

draft count.

i know i had more but these are all the ones i could immediately find. if we had a thread and i owe you a draft, please message me!

threads.

@lwiamatka : 1 ( about crach ) @emeraldshe : 1 ( hiding from society ) @ncrthernkxng : 1 ( sparring ) @russicnrat : 1 ( tol v smol ) @lighthouseborn : 3 ( knife ; devil’s whatever ; old thread about wendy’s family that i missed somehow whoops ) @captainkingsleigh : 1 ( piracy / jealousy ) @emcads : 1 ( cabin boy breakup )

asks.

@ncrthernkxng​ : 1 ( falling asleep meme —tbh i only remember this one because i was working on it when i stopped to delete an old url and rip there went the whole account )

[joonie-beanie]

The OM! Boys + their reaction to you walking into the room naked

My HC for this may be slightly different than the tiktok challenge (I assume that’s what you’re referring to), but hopefully you still enjoy!

(MC/Reader is GN)

Lucifer:

He doesn’t bother looking up when you step into his study--too absorbed in his current work. He needs to read through the proposal on his desk and have the signed papers to Diavolo by morning, and it’s already nearing midnight.

“Lucifer.”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t give you his attention, at first. He’s used to you coming to check on him when it gets late, pestering him about coming to bed and getting some much needed shut-eye. “I’ll join you shortly. I need to finish up here.”

“Lucifer,” you try again, tone a little annoyed. He pauses at that, not used to hearing you upset. He sets his pen down with a sigh--gloved hand combing through his dark hair.

“Yes, Y/N, what--,” his voice cuts off as his gaze finally finds you. You’re leaning against the doorframe to the room, arms hugged in front of you, and a playful look in your eyes.

There’s not a shred of clothing on your body.

Seeing that you have his attention, you don’t bother saying anything. Simply watch his reaction--loving the way his crimson eyes widen in shock.

However, it doesn’t take him long to recover. He presses to his feet, and steps around the wooden desk, a handsome grin on his lips.

As he approaches you, his demon form materializes without warning.

“You’re lucky that I could use a break,” he tells you, hooking a finger beneath your chin and forcing you to face him. There’s a sadistic glint in his gaze, one that has you swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth. 

“But don’t think I’ll be kind. As much as I’m thrilled to see you present yourself to me like this, next time, you need to be patient. Now--,” his wings flutter, and you gasp as he cages you against the door. His fingers curl around your throat.

“Prepare yourself.”

Mammon:

He’s in the middle of looking up “get rich quick” schemes on his DDD when you enter his room without knocking.

“Oh~” he greets lazily, not bothering to turn away from his current task. He knows it’s you, because you’d messaged him earlier, asking if he was free, and alone.

He had assumed that you just wanted to spend some one-on-one time with The Great Mammon, and who could blame you? 

“Mammon,” you call, a purr to your voice that makes the Avatar of Greed pause. Turning away from his DDD, he looks over and sees you leaning over his pool table, with your palms pressed against the edge of the wooden surface. 

You’re...stark naked.

He can’t see your ahem nether region thanks to the height of the table, but he can see the tops of your hips, and there’s a very clear lack of underwear.

“Wh--!” his hand flies to cover his mouth, a brilliant blush blooming on his face. “Where are your clothes?!”

You blink innocently. “I figured you might like this type of surprise. But if I’m wrong~”

You fake a disappointed sigh, turning and acting like you’re going to exit his room. 

Immediately Mammon is on his feet and vaulting over the pool table (quite literally). His arms wrap around your torso, hugging you protectively back against his chest. You can already feel that he’s semi-hard as his pelvis rubs against your ass.

“I...of course I like it,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “Ya just surprised me, is all…”

You giggle, lifting a hand to pet through his hair. “Would you like me to stay, then?”

His arms wrap tighter around you, teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. “As if I would let ya go anywhere looking like this, silly human...you’re staying here tonight.”

Levi:

When you excuse yourself in the middle of the game the two of you are playing, saying something about needing the bathroom, Levi doesn’t think much of it.

His attention is solely on the screen of his computer, concentration through the roof as he completes the boss battle without your help (he really hadn’t needed your aid, anyway. He just loved spending time with you in person, and in game.)

Levi is in the middle of picking up all the rewards the boss had dropped following its defeat, so he doesn’t notice you return to the room.

“Levi.”

Blinking, the Avatar of Envy glances over his shoulder, hearing your voice behind him. The moment he catches sight of naked body, his brain short circuits. 

With a surprised yelp, he instinctively swivels in his chair to face you, but his headphones catch--yanking his head back, and effectively making a mess of everything as the taut cord shoves an army of gingerly placed figurines from atop his desk.

Perhaps you should have waited for him to get his new wireless headphones from Akuzon before attempting this trend with him…

“Oh dear,” you sigh, an embarrassed blush spreading on your face as you survey the damage you’ve done. Levi is the same color as a tomato, his wide orange gaze shifting between your naked body, and the ceiling. Like if he stares at you too long, he’ll self-destruct.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment, sighing. “I thought surprising you might have been fun, but…”

Your voice trails off, a shiver raking up your spine as you feel something slick curl around your ankle. When you look down, you note it’s Levi’s tail. His demon form has materialized without you realizing. 

“No, i-it’s fine…,” you see him swallow harshly, his tail continuing to wind up your leg. He tugs you forward, closer to him. His hands hover near your waist, his eyes soaking in the sight of you. You can see a tent beginning to form in his pants. “Can I touch you?”

You nod, and in the next beat, he’s all over you.

Satan:

Per usual, he’s engrossed in a novel, so he doesn’t notice your disappearance behind a particularly large stack of books. Nor does he hear the sound of you shedding your clothes. 

Thankfully, he can’t miss the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“Satan.”

He turns his gaze away from the book, pausing when he sees you standing a few feet in front of him, completely nude. 

His eyebrows raise high on his forehead, grin tugging at his lips. Silently, he moves to place the book face-down on the arm of the chair.

His obvious satisfaction at your surprise has you unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Like what you see?”

“You could say that.”

He presses to his feet and makes his way towards you--emerald eyes soaking in every inch of your revealed skin. When he finally reaches your side, his hands immediately reach out to grip your waist. His fingers give you a gentle squeeze.

“Is there some special occasion I should know about?” he asks, chuckling. You shake your head, reaching up to cup his face. His smile widens at the action, gaze falling to your lips.

“No occasion. I just wanted to see how you would react.”

“And is my reaction what you were hoping for?”

You lean in, connecting your lips with his. “Mhm~”

The two of you share a few kisses, before Satan is backing you into one of the many bookshelves, his knee slotting between your legs. 

He leans in, mouth hot against your ear.

“Getting the full experience of my reaction may take a few hours, just so you know.”

Asmo:

The Avatar of Lust has never heard of the human world challenge, same as his brothers, but he’s always more than open to seeing you naked, that’s for sure!

So, when you excuse yourself in the middle of your study-session--returning a minute later, and calling out his name so playfully--he’s thrilled at what he finds.

“Ooo~! Look at you!” He starts fanning himself, leaning back in his chair as he regards you with rapt attention. His honey colored eyes drag from the top of your head, all the way down to your feet, and back again.

“Will you turn for me?” He asks, biting his lip. You’re tempted to roll your eyes, but do as he asks--slowly rotating yourself so he’s able to see every inch of your nude skin. 

“Gosh, you should absolutely do this more often.” There’s a slight groan to his voice, a show of his satisfaction at your bold present.

“If I did, I have the feeling I’d never leave your room,” you respond with a laugh. Asmo jumps to his feet, making his way to your side. His fingertips roam over the skin of your arms, and he leans in to kiss you.

“Did you want to continue our study-session like this, or should I clear the bed?”

You smile against him. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Asmo giggles, and before you know it, he has detached himself from you. He works quickly to clear his mattress of any notebooks, and loose papers.

“Shame on you for tempting me like this, when I’ve got a test coming up soon,” he scolds you, but there’s no real anger in his voice. Once the bed has been cleared, Asmo crawls atop the plush sheets and settles on his side, staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

He beckons you with a roll of his finger. “Come here, darling.”

And you’d be a fool to disobey the Avatar of Lust’s command.

Beel:

He has invited you over to watch his favorite cooking show, but you’d left during the commercial break to go and grab some snacks (the ones he had already prepared long gone--filling his stomach).

It only takes you a few minutes to return, but since the program has started up again on the TV screen, Beel doesn’t bother looking up at the sound of the door opening.

“Y/N, hurry, they’re finishing up the dish,” he says, mouth practically watering. You silently make your way to his bed, dropping the snacks beside him. He mindlessly reaches for a bag of chips, attention still on the TV.

“Beel,” you finally speak. For the first time since your return, his purple eyes shift to look at you.

What he finds has the chip between his lips falling onto the sheets--his newly opened snack forgotten about. His adam’s apple bobs against his throat as he swallows, and you squeal in surprise as he suddenly reaches out--dragging you into him. 

You end up straddling his lap, one of his large hands gripping your waist, while the other moves to cradle the back of your head.

Just like that, his favorite program is forgotten about. 

“Itadakimasu,” he grumbles, mouth connecting with your shoulder.

He doesn’t question your lack of clothing--doesn’t need to know the reasoning for your current actions.

All he knows is that you taste better than his snacks, and are more entertaining than the cooking program.

Besides, he can catch the rerun later.

Belphie:

You decide to surprise him while attempting to wake him up from a nap.

After entering his room, you carefully shed your clothes, and then approach the side of his bed. He’s thoroughly snuggled beneath the covers, just his eyes, and messy hair peeking out from beneath the piles of blankets.

“Belphie,” you call out quietly, shaking his shoulder.

He groans, pulling away from your hand. His eyes don’t open, his groggy brain not ready to be awake yet.

“5 more minutes.”

You breathe a laugh, posing a hand on your hip. “Belphie, look at me.”

Despite not wanting to be awake, the Avatar of Sloth begrudgingly cracks his eyes open. His gaze falls on you, and you can see his eyes widen ever so slightly--the cogs in his brain beginning to move.

He stares at you for a few long seconds, eyes trailing the length of your naked body.

“Hehe~,” he extends his arms, the covers folding down as he reaches out and makes a grabbing motion at you, revealing the grin on his face.

You laugh, but nonetheless step forward into his waiting hands. Immediately he’s tugging you onto the bed beside him.

“Can you start waking me up like this from now on?” he asks, folding your head beneath his chin. His fingertips roam across back, settling near your waist.

“I have a feeling that if I do, we won’t ever actually get out of bed.”

He chuckles at your words, mouth moving to your ear. His teeth tug at your earlobe, and you can’t help but shiver.

“Hopefully that’s not an issue, because I don’t plan on letting you go now that you’re here.”

Solomon:

Despite being a magically inclined human, Solomon is a human nonetheless, so he’s aware of the tiktok challenge.

However, he never actually expects anyone to do it to him.

You’re chilling in his room at Purgatory Hall when he excuses himself to go and fetch a beverage. When he returns, he finds you right where you had been when he’d left--lounging atop his bed, on your stomach--but all of your clothes have disappeared.

For a half second, he wonders if he’d forgotten about a spell he’d cast on you as a prank. However, judging by the teasing grin on your face, and the glint in your eyes, your clothes have disappeared of your own volition.

Then, he remembers the tiktok trend.

“My apologies for not rushing to jump your bones like many of the men do in those videos.”

He walks over and calmly places the coffee mug in his hand on the nightstand. The bed dips a moment later as he moves to join you on the mattress.

However, rather than settle down beside you, he grips your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. Solomon then leans over you, caging you in as he lowers himself just inches from your face.

“While I may not have reacted like you expected, I’m more than happy to give you the same outcome.”

You grin up at him. “Which is?”

He smiles mischievously, his fingertips moving to dance across your ribs. You can feel magic buzzing on his skin.

“I think you know.”

Simeon:

Nothing can prepare Simeon for the moment he swivels around at his desk--his name falling from your lips, and beckoning his attention.

You’re over for a study date, and had excused yourself to the restroom for a moment. 

“Yes, Y/N--?” his voice catches when he spots you there--standing in the doorway to his bathroom in all of your glory. 

The Angel’s heart feels like it may beat straight out of his chest, his mind momentarily blue-screening as he stares at you.

“Wow,” he eventually breathes, raising a gloved hand to cover his blushing face. Despite obviously being flustered, his gaze still roams across you--only his mouth and cheeks hidden from view.

“Despite being a celestial, you’re truly the angel among the two of us.”

That gets you blushing, your arms hugging at your sides. Seeing you turn pink at his words has Simeon feeling a bit bolder, and he presses to his feet, moving to join you.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tight hug, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“No you,” you mumble in response, pouting up at him, and wondering how he’d managed to turn the tables on you so easily. Simeon only laughs, leaning in to connect your lips. 

“Thank you...shall we move to the bed?”

Oh. 

“Yes, please.”

Diavolo:

Diavolo had been informed by Barbatos at the end of the student council meeting that you were waiting in his office for him.

Without a second thought, he had left to find you--assuming you wanted to talk about sometime in private with him. Which, honestly, he didn’t mind in the least, considering you were always good company.

However, the last thing he expects to find when he steps into his office is you, sitting behind his desk, in his oversized leather chair...completely nude.

You fold your hands onto the wood, smiling at him. 

“Good evening.”

There’s a playful glint in your eye, one that has Diavolo’s initial shock wearing off quickly--replaced with amused interest instead.

Closing the door behind him, the Demon Prince slowly makes his way around the desk.

“Is there something you need to tell me about?”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to surprise you,” you giggle, gasping when Diavolo suddenly reaches out and secures your waist.

He lifts you out of the black chair, seating you on his desk, and stepping between your spread legs. A blush dusts your cheeks, eyes widening as his grip slides down to your hips--his handsome face just inches from yours.

“Well, I certainly enjoy this type of surprise.” Diavolo grips your chin with his fingers, and guides you into a soft kiss.

“Perhaps you should surprise me like this after school hours more often.”

Barbatos:

While staying the weekend at the Demon Lord’s Castle, you volunteer to get up early and help the royal butler prepare breakfast. It’s a large job, considering the brothers, and other exchange students are staying over as well.

“Good morning, Barbatos,” you greet, stepping into the spacious kitchen. The butler, standing in front of the stove, takes a moment before turning to address you.

“Good morn--,” he begins, but pauses when he sees your state of dress. Or, rather, undress, considering you’re wearing absolutely nothing.

A light blush dusts his cheeks, and he coughs to clear his throat. 

“Have you misplaced your clothing? It’s not wise to cook in such a state.”

“I just wanted to see your reaction,” you respond with a laugh, stepping further into the room. He notices that your clothes are bundled in your arms. 

“Well, perhaps it is a good way to start the day off,” he comments, smiling as his eyes roam over your figure. 

Then, he’s moving away, walking to the edge of the kitchen to retrieve something you can’t quite see. When he returns to your side, you note that he’s holding a plain, white apron.

“I hardly mind such a sight to accompany the breakfast preparation, but I’d prefer if you not injure yourself.”

He slides the neck of the apron over your head, and then moves to your back--tightly securing the ties. You shiver when his gloved hand traces the length of your spine.

He smiles charmingly at the reaction.

“Shall we get to work?”

[once-upon-a-oneshot]

Game Over

Based On: “When You Sleep” by Mary Lambert

Summary: Frat!Harry only wants you when he’s drunk, and you’ve finally had enough

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

Here I was for the third time this week pulling up to a frat party in the middle of the night. I didn’t want to be here, but, just like all the other times he had too much to drink, he needed me. Usually it takes a great amount of pushing past drunk underaged college kids to find him at these things. But this time, as soon as I reached the yard of the house, dimly lit by an array of neon party lights, I spotted a mop of curly brown hair, hunched over a bush.

“Yo! Harry dude! I thought we agreed no more puking in our bushes?!” Some frat guy was yelling at him from the porch. Harry’s only response was to flip the guy off and grin while using the bush to hold him up. “Finally! Your baby sitter’s here” The guy half-joked noticing my arrival.

Harry turned around to face me a little too fast, and he stumbled forward nearly falling. I tried my best to support him but there was no chance. I by no means would consider myself “small” or “petite”, but compared to Harry’s 6-foot, broad shouldered stature, he was too large.

“Hey! What’re ya doing hur?” Harry drunkenly slurred semi-regaining his balance.

“Haz, you called me, remember?” Normally I would’ve been embarrassed calling him anything but his name. But I’ve done this enough times to know, in the morning, he won’t remember any of the words exchanged tonight.

It took nearly an hour to get Harry back to my dorm room. Our new personal best. It’s not that I live far from the frat house, it’s more the process of getting Harry here. The trip usually goes something like, helping Harry stumble to the car, pulling over at every traffic light so Harry can throw up, finally making it to his apartment (which is past my own apartment), Harry begging me to help him to his front door, Harry realizing he “forgot” his keys, Harry asking if he can just crash at my place instead, me driving Harry back to my apartment, helping Harry stumble into my dorm.

It took about the third time of this routine being repeated for me to realize the coincidence of Harry forgetting his keys every time he went out, got shit faced, and called me to come pick him up, wasn’t so much a coincidence. And even though it was the same thing every time, I never skipped the step of driving to his apartment, because I knew it meant he’d have to verbally ask me if he could stay with me. And in some sick way, I got off to hearing his lips form those words. It was something so small, but something that meant so much to me. And he knew that. Drunk or not. I knew what the morning would bring, but for the night, I’d listen to Harry’s slow, peaceful breathing as he slept.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Harry attempting to tip-toe around, collecting his things before I’d wake up. And just like every other morning, I lay perfectly still, letting silent tears hit the pillow, while I listen to the boy I love try to pretend he was never here.

LATER ON CAMPUS

“Hey (Y/N), what did I miss in class today?” I swiveled around in the library chair to face the person who was speaking to me.

Before even facing him, I recognized the voice as a kid from my Biology class, who also happened to be from my hometown. We weren’t necessarily friends, but we engaged in small talk every once in a while. Although I knew who it was before I turned around, I didn’t expect Harry to be standing there with him.

“Oh, uh, not too much.” I focused as hard as I could on my classmate to keep from looking over at Harry. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I was too embarrassed to look at him. “I can send them to you if you want.”

“Sick! Can you email them to me right now, so I can print them right quick?” I wanted badly to make up some excuse for why I just had to leave and send the notes later, so I could get far far away from Harry. But when I opened my mouth, “Sure” is all that came out.

The guy sat at the computer across from me, and Harry sat down next to him. I fixed my eyes on the computer screen and tried to steady my shaky hands enough to hurriedly send the notes. All the while Harry continued to stare.

As soon as the notes were sent, I logged off the computer and packed up my things. In order to get out of the library I had to pass Harry and the guy, and it was just my luck that the guy had gotten up to go print. As I passed Harry, he grabbed my wrist stopping me. I finally looked into his green eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare like he had already been doing.

“What?” I asked getting uncomfortable with the intensity he was looking at me with. He just shrugged in response.

Once Harry noticed his friend walking back to the computer, he quickly released my wrist, and turned around, as if nothing had ever happened.

Things have been this way with Harry since I met him. Since the day I became his. He knew I had a crush on him, and it gave him some sort of ego trip. Even though he knew I already wanted him, he wanted to make sure it would stay that way. So, whenever he felt like I wasn’t paying him enough attention, or he thought my yearning for him was slipping away, he’d throw me a bone to keep me begging. Initially I made the mistake of thinking this meant that by some chance, he wanted me the same way, but he proved time and time again (through his actions and his words), this wasn’t the case.

And after months of taking whatever treatment Harry would give me. I finally snapped. It happened one night at a party. I was drinking, and I didn’t know he’d be there. I spent the night avoiding him. I was afraid of what drunk me may say or do once I got around him. When he entered a room, suddenly I had somewhere else to be. When he needed another drink from the kitchen, suddenly I wasn’t thirsty anymore. When he wanted to join on the beer pong table, suddenly I was bored of the game. And Harry noticed.

I was on the second floor of the house on my own, exhausted from dodging Harry all night. I leaned my back against the wall of the hall after the stairs reminded me just how buzzed I really was. I guess Harry spotted me heading up stairs because I heard footsteps on the stairs, before he appeared at the top of them. Without saying anything, Harry glanced over his shoulder, before walking and standing directly in front of me. He put an arm up on either side of my head, trapping me between him and the wall.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” he said too casually for our position. “Are you mad at me or something?” This took me by surprise.

“What?”

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.” Again, his tone was way too casual for the things he was saying. But honestly, that’s always how Harry played it.

“You mean living my life? Enjoying the party? Not worshiping the ground you walk on?” Harry’s only response was a smirk. That’s when I started getting angry. “Look I’m too drunk to even be having this conversation with you right now Haz, so can we ju-“

“What’d you just call me?” Harry questioned raising an eyebrow at me. I froze. I was so drunk and emotional that I had accidentally let it slip. But upon processing the look on Harry’s face as something almost resembling distain, my embarrassment turned to pure anger.

“What do you want from me Harry?!” anger was thick in my voice as I pushed him backwards further from me.

“What are you talki-“

“No. Don’t you dare do that! Don’t act like you’re clueless. Like-like you haven’t been playing games with me since we met!” He said nothing. Instead he just stood staring at me. An emotionless expression painted across that beautiful face.

I wanted to stay angry. I wanted the fire burning inside of me to push me to finally walking away from this toxic man. But seeing that there was truly nothing there, the anger fizzled out to simple exhaustion.

“Look, we both know you know how I feel about you. And we both know you don’t feel the same way. But you play with my head. You flirt with me just long enough to wrap me around your finger. And then silence. Just like I never existed. That is until your hold on me starts unraveling again. It’s just some big twisted game for you. It’s like when you can’t have my attention, you suddenly want it.”

“It’s no-“

“I’m not done. For once in the history of whatever the fuck this thing with us is, it’s my turn to talk, and your turn to just listen. And I want you to listen good, because this is the only time I’m ever going to say.” I waited for some sign from Harry to let me know he was really paying attention.

He nodded so I continued.

“I can’t keep being a pawn in your torturous game Harry. It’s not fair to me. You’re breaking me apart and you don’t even care. The thing that hurts the most Harry,” I fought the tears for as long as I could, but the alcohol made it nearly impossible “is the fact that I know I could make you so happy. I would do everything in my power to give you the world. Hell, I basically already do. But you’re so blinded by “not wanting to be with me” that you don’t even realize how good I am for you. How good I am to you. If you stop telling yourself you’re not allowed to love me, I guarantee I’d make you fall. But if that’s not what you want. If you really, truly don’t even want to give me a chance, I’m done. I’ll have to walk away before you finish draining what little of me, I have left. And if that’s what it comes to, I’m begging you, please just let me go. No more games.”

Harry just stood and, like he so often did, stared. Blank. I felt like I was frozen in that moment and all the air had been sucked from the room. Unfortunately, I could feel myself began to sober up as I stood in anticipation of Harry’s response. I wished like hell I was still drunk, because maybe it would’ve hurt less when Harry finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he began backing away back towards the stairs. “I’ll leave you alone.” And with that he spun on his heels and trotted back down to the party.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/N: for my 100 follower celebration (thank you so much), i opened up my fic requests! please just read my brief fic request guidelines before requesting!!! also thank god the ‘read more’ link is finally working for me. so sorry for people who had to scroll on the previous chapters (i am going to go back and fix them now)!!!

Masterlist

Chapter 16

“I’m home!” Spencer called out.

Jo bolted down the stairs and leapt into his arms, “Daddy!”

“Hi, Princess! Did you have a good day?” he asked.

“Yes, I played kickball with Henry at recess today,” she informed him.

“I have a surprise for you,” Spencer smiled, bringing her over to the couch.

You walked out of the kitchen just as Spencer was pulling an envelope out of his bag.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” he grinned.

Jo pulled three tickets out of the envelope, examining them.

“They’re for the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, Jo! They have a huge dinosaur exhibit and we can all go together this Friday,” Spencer explained.

“Thank you, Daddy!” she hugged him.

“You’re welcome, Princess. But I want to go too so this isn’t a completely selfless gift,” he chuckled.

-

Jo was waiting on the couch in full dino gear. She was so excited...and then your phone rang.

“Y/N, I can’t make it. I have a case and they really need me. I’m so sorry,” Spencer apologized.

You sighed, “Okay, I’ll tell Jo. Stay safe.”

You hung up the phone and sat down on the couch next to Jo, smoothing her hair back.

“Baby, I have some bad news. Daddy can’t come with us tonight,” you spoke softly.

“Why?” she whispered, tears forming in her lash line.

“He has to help other people who really need him,” you pulled her in for a hug, “But we will still go and have a great time and I’m sure Daddy will make this up to you when he gets home.”

“Okay,” Jo sniffled.

“You are such a brave little girl for letting Daddy help others instead of be with you. Now, let’s go see some dinosaurs.”

-

You didn’t know a bunch of cool facts off the top of your head like Spencer would so you mainly had to read from the plaques that were next to the exhibits.

Jo seemed to have fun regardless but you could tell she was a little down. You were walking to the car when she began to squirm.

“Need to pee,” Jo said.

Knowing she couldn’t hold it until home, you walked into some fancy restaurant hoping they would let you just quickly use the bathroom.

Luckily, they did but you stopped dead in your tracks when you were exiting the bathroom. Spencer was at a table with an attractive woman with a dark-haired bob. They were making some serious eye contact. This didn’t look like an urgent case at all, it looked like a date.

You scurried out of the restaurant before he could see you. Jo didn’t see him either which was a relief because you didn’t know how to tell her that her Daddy was a fucking asshole.

You rushed home, packing bags for you and Jo. You couldn’t be here when he got home. You wouldn’t let him interact with Jo after choosing some girl over her feelings.

“Where are we going?” Jo asked as you loaded the bags into the car.

“We are going to Grandma and Grandpa’s for a little while,” you said as you buckled her in.

“Is Daddy coming?”

“Um no. Daddy may be gone for a while,” you explained.

Once Jo was fast asleep in the car, you finally let yourself break, the tears drenching your cheeks. How could Spencer do this to you and Jo? Apparently you were not enough for him.

-

All of Spencer’s calls and texts were left unanswered. As he arrived home, the lights were off which was weird because you were usually still up by now.

He was still shaken up about the last thing Cat said to him.

“In twenty years, I’ll remember your name but you won’t remember mine.”

All he wanted to do was hug his girls and memorize every single thing about them so he could never ever forget them.

As he walked up the steps, a note was taped to the front door.

Pack your shit and leave. I never want to see you again. Stay away from me and especially Jo.

Spencer pulled out his phone so fast and called you. Voicemail, shit.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I missed the museum but I was already brainstorming ways to make it up to you both. Please come home,” he pleaded.

Spencer dragged himself upstairs, opting to sleep in your bed instead of his. He was so exhausted, he would be useless trying to find you right now.

When Spencer awoke the next morning, the house was still just as empty as it was last night. He sighed, calling Penelope.

“Garcia, could you please track Y/N’s phone? I’ll send you her number,” he asked.

“Do you have a reason?” she countered, “I can’t just go looking up everyone’s location. I mean I could but I need to be able to justify it to the director if they go through my computer.”

“She left a note but she isn’t responding to my calls or texts. I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s in Fair Haven, New York.”

“That’s over a seven hour drive. She must have driven all night,” Spencer exclaimed.

“So she’s okay?” Penelope asked.

“Yes, thank you, Garcia. Her parents live there.”

Spencer quickly brushed his teeth, repacked his go bag, and set off on his drive.

-

You were all having dinner at the table when there was an urgent knock at the door followed by the doorbell ringing. Your father got up from the table and looked into the entryway.

“He’s here,” he said.

You sighed, walking up to the front door and closing the curtain right in Spencer’s face.

-

You had put Jo to bed and were now peeking out of your old bedroom’s window on the second floor.

“He’s still here?” your mom asked.

Spencer had seated himself on the bench on your front porch and had not left since then.

“Maybe you should talk to him, sweetie. He’s gonna freeze to death out there.”

“Mom, he went on a date with another woman when he was supposed to be taking our daughter to the museum and lied about it to me. I really don’t care,” you said.

“Well, you could at least tell him to leave if you don’t want to talk to him because it seems like he is waiting to say something.”

You sighed, grabbing a quilt from the end of your bed and stomping down the stairs.

“Here,” you opened the door and threw the quilt and a few granola bars at him, trying to close the door quickly again.

“Y/N, please wait!”

The door was already shut. That was as nice as you were willing to be at the moment. No one was forcing him to stay, he could leave at any time. But you weren’t up for hearing whatever he had to say right now.

-

To Spencer’s credit, he did sleep out there all night, not even going back to the warmth of his car.

Jo really wanted to go to the park this morning which means you were going to have to walk past Spencer.

After zipping up her coat, you said, “Jo, we are going to play a game where we don’t talk to Daddy, okay?”

“Why?” she asked curiously.

“Just because,” you sighed.

You lifted her up and opened the door. Spencer looked up, immediately standing up. You tightened your grip around Jo.

“Y/N, can you talk to me please? I don’t understand. You didn’t seem too mad about the case when I called you. I get it was awful timing but-” he rambled as he followed you to the car.

After finishing buckling Jo, you shut the car door. She didn’t need to hear what you were about to say.

“If you want a family so fucking bad, go fuck your side chick and stop trying to weasel your way into ours. I can’t believe you chose getting laid over going to the museum with your own daughter. I had to comfort her crying when I told her you weren’t coming and I said you were helping people but you were only helping yourself. Honestly did you just pretend to like me again so you could get to see your daughter to prove you’re better than your father? Cause from where I stand, Spencer, you’re no better,” you hit him right where you knew it would hurt.

“Y/N, what?” he looked heartbroken but you couldn’t trust anything about him anymore.

You got into the car and reversed out of the driveway, wiping the tears from your face.

“You lost,” Jo said.

“What?” you asked.

“You talked to Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby. I did lose.”

-

You got home late. You had purposely stayed out most of the day to avoid Spencer who was no doubt still camped out on your parent’s front porch.

As soon as you arrived home, he was already walking over to you.

You put your pointer finger up to silence him, “Let me tuck Jo in and then I’ll come down.”

Spencer was sitting on the bench when you returned. You stood by the door with your arms wrapped around you as if to protect yourself.

“I wasn’t on a date,” Spencer whispered.

“I saw, Spencer.”

“Well, I kinda was but it was an undercover mission for a case. I like you, Y/N. Actually, I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you...”

“How do I know this isn’t another lie?” you whispered.

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, “I had Garcia forward me Cat Adams’ case file and the security footage from that night. You can see Rossi, JJ, Morgan, and Tara all there but they were dressed up undercover too which is why you didn’t notice them there.”

“I’m sorry,” you spoke softly after reviewing the footage and seeing the mugshots of the woman, “I just assumed and my anger got the best of me. What I said to you about your father was especially cruel and untrue.”

“You had every right to be upset, I know it looked bad. I will try to clarify upcoming cases when I can but sometimes the details are confidential.”

“I promise to listen to your side of the story first next time before making you sleep on a bench outside,” you softly giggled, “and...I love you too. I don’t think I stopped either.”

“Can I kiss you?” he smiled, standing up and slowly approaching you.

“Yes you may, Spence,” you smiled as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[katsukikitten]

This is a repost for a fic I deleted ages ago. I've done zero editing and even had to go into my old phone to get it. Enjoy ~

Kirishima gripped onto your face tightly , tight enough that his fingers were causing indents in your smooth skin. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the two of you enveloped in darkness in the small confines of a random coat closet.

"Do you know the things I want to do to you, Y/N?" His voice is dangerously husky, his breath the only indication that he has been drinking.

Your cheeks burn at the question as he pushes you agaisnt the wall, separating your legs with a powerful thigh. Voices of your classmates and a low thump of music in celebration of new years is long forgotten as the roar of your blood echos in your delicate ears.

You swallow unsure of how to answer. Kirishima was always a good friend had he ever expressed interest in you? He was sweet and kind. The first to volunteer to show you around campus, the first to guide you to new friends and the first to encourage you to date someone else.

Someone else that broke your heart a few months ago and Eijirou was the first to lend his shoulder to cry on. Ruby eyes shining as they welled with their own set of tears. So how could he even think to like you?

His hand moves to your throat but his grip is much lighter, barely holding onto your thin column with plenty of opportunity to breathe.

"Are you not going to answer, little one?" His voice reverberates around the small closet, in your chest. Still you cannot even think of an answer depsite having too taken shots of liquid courage but clearly not as much as your red headed friend. His grips slowly becomes tighter yet no fear rings out into your body, only excitement. You never pegged Kirishima as the...commanding type.

"I..." Your voice gets lost in your throat your fist his black shirt. His eyes shine as he holds your gaze with what little light filters in thought the cracks of the door.

"You what? Speak up when speaking to your sir please baby girl." You inwardly giggle, even in his dominate state he asked nicely. But the effect was not lost on you what with his soft tone and grip.

No if anything it encouraged you more.

"I wouldn't know, sir. You've never seemed to express that type of interest in me." You say softly just a few decibels above a whisper. A haughty smile forms on his face as he pushes you further into the wall, completely pressing his body agaisnt yours as his lips find your ear in such urgency.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to pretend to be happy for you and Bakugou?" His grip tightens with his rarely found rage, still nothing compared to the ash blonde "I encouraged the two of you because the chemistry was obvious and I knew he'd treat you well. He did treat you well but I guess I got so caught up in making sure you got what you wanted that I didnt think about his inability to be open with his feelings. I should know best about that."

"Wha..what do you mean you should know best?" He doesn't answer for a long time, silencing anymore questions with a kiss.

His tenderness is welcomed although your body craves more, more punishment but you cannot find yourself being your true bratty self to Kirishima. How can you defy someone who asks so nicely? You melt into his kiss, feverish to feel more as you pulling on his hair.

Just as he is about to part your lips with his tongue the small closet is suddenly flooded with light.

"So this is where you two made off too." The voice is dark, causing both you and Eji's stomachs to clench with desire. You both are frozen under the scarlet gaze of the predator.

"Kitten what are you doing pinned beneath such a scrawny puppy?" Your heart races at the old nickname, body still pulling towards him despite the attraction to the ruby haired man pinning you to the closet. He grabs Kirishima by the back of his thick neck pulling the warmth away from you. Exposing how much you two have really been up to in the dark as your shirt is haphazardly lifted up your smooth torso. He slams Kirishima agaisnt the wall of the closet by his throat as he gently grabs onto the crook of your arm.

His eyes scream unquenched rage, knowing if you defy him now there will be hell to pay later.

"But King I was only enjoying his company. His lips are marvelous and his hands..." Katsuki's eyes flicker back to you, he wraps his fingers in the thick hair at the base of your skull. Pulling harshly as your core begins to heat.

He harshly tilts your face away from him, exposing your neck to his hungry teeth. His kissable lips press to your ear.

"Still a brat I see. I guess I didnt punish you harshly enough." His voice is velvet contradicting his deadly grip. Kirishima whimpers beneath Katsuki's touch, reaching out a hand for yours that you gladly grip onto.

A little unused to Katsuki not having a free hand to comfort you, unknowing that Eji feels the same. Crimson eyes shift to the man beneath his crushing grip and a small smirk plays on his lips.

"My little puppy if you hang around kitten too much her brat will rub off on you." He loosens his grip when he sees Kirishima's eyes rolling into the back of his head, for once not realizing how harshly he was gripping.

He was unused to both of his hands occupied but that wasn't to say he didn't mind. A bratty kitten and an extremely obedient puppy was going to prove...interesting. The strong hand moves from your hair quickly to your waist to pull you to him while his eyes stay glued to Eji.

"Ah are you alright little one?" He asks soothingly as he peppers kisses onto Eji's neck, slightly red, "I've gripped too hard huh."

Tears prick Kirishima's eyes and you squeeze his still held hand having been there too. Not with Katsuki being too rough, no he was always the right amount but teetering on the fine line of pleasure and shame to allow someone to control you, to provoke such reactions out of you. He gently kisses your knuckles that are interlaced with Ejis, lips trailing over his before he gently separates them with his free hand. He squeezes your hip as he exits the closet.

"Follow me." A command that neither are allowed to disobey, even going as far as to make sure that you do not escape.

Kirishima stays frozen against the closet wall.

"But..." His voice is soft, small even unlike the normal booming confidence he normally displays.

"Puppy." Katsuki barks out darkly, not even bothering to turn around, "Unless you want your erection to go untouched by anyone but you, I suggest you follow your King."

"Yes, Katsuki-sama." He says softly falling into place behind the two of you. He guides you both up the stairwell taking a familiar path until the three of you stop in front of a thick oak door of a college dorm room.

Your door. That he opens with ease as you never lock it unless sleeping or during a session. He flicks on the switch that allows the soft string lights to flicker on, leaving the harsh center over head light off. He turns to grab onto Kirishima's hand bringing you both to the center, standing barefoot on the plush faux fur rug.

"Kneel." He orders and Kirishima sinks to his knees, posture straight as he murmurs with a bowed head.

"Yes, Katsuki-sama."

"I..." You protest your head clearing just a bit, hadn't he said he was done for awhile. Needed a break to think and now here he was bringing someone else into your room. You did not feel jealousy over the heavily hinted and obvious displays of interaction between the two men. If anything you desired to see it, to share your King with another would not be a bad idea. Two to support one another in the time of a "tyrant" you would just after to learn how to share the after Bakugou.

"And I said *kneel* Kitten." He steps closer without touching you and your body heats up, "Unless you want to be denied release all night. You're already up to twenty minutes worth of edging."

"But...." Tears prick your eyes as you sink to your knees, long forgetting your heartache for now. Unfair in his dominance or so you always think.

You face Katuski always as Kirishima keeps his head bowed. You try to study the different dynamic and cannot fathom being that good.

What kind of pleasures does Kirishima get with such good behavior?

Katsuki lifts his chin, holding his gaze.

"You may hold eye contact for tonight until I say other wise, okay, Koinu?" Kirishima nods in response earning a gentle kiss on the forehead before Katsuki stands over you, again gripping your hair roughly as he places a feather soft kiss onto your forehead. The rules the three of you have are unspoken but known by heart. One 'King you're hurting my heart' uttered from either pair of lips he will stop in his tracks and he will crush you to him.

"Now explore one another." His tone close to boredom as he pulls up your pink computer chair to sit on.

The two of you stare dumbfounded at one another then towards the higher power in the room. Small impatient explosions litter his skin as he sighs out his unspoken anger. His eyes level to both of you as he speaks.

"You two had no problem in that cramped closet. Koinu, why dont you see if little kitten is wet."

"King..." Eiji starts, Katsuki listens with narrowing eyes dissecting if it is disobedience or fear that causes him to hesitate.

He gives him a moment as your eyes return to Kirishima. You smile in his direction as Eji's heart beats rapidly.

Is this....is this what he wants? Does he want to share you? Does he want to share Katsuki?

Ruby eyes meet scarlet and the ash blonde stands before squatting to the red heads level.

"Are you okay Koinu?" Voice ever soft as he places his strong palm behind his red haired head and you reach out to touch Kirishuma's knee. Hair ruffled by a calloused hand while skin is being caressed by smooth fingers.

Something ignites in his chest.

"I...I'm okay, thank you Katsuki-sama, Kitten." Katsu smirks easing into his temporary throne, voice returning to that deadly tone.

"Then check to see if my kitten is enjoying our company my Koinu."

Kirishima hovers close to you, suddenly unsure of what he should be doing.

As if his hand wasn't half way up your skirt just downstairs. His hand follows the curve of your powerful thigh as it slips beneath the black fabric that drapes over your ass and your heat.

His fingers make their way to your core and when he discovers no restrictive fabric over your mound his eyes widen.

"Ah she must not being wearing underwear." Katsuki laughs, "I see you didn't know how much of a slut she was huh, Kirishima? Then again she never wears underwear with that skirt. Were you expecting to get laid?"

"No!" A mock shriek as his smile darkens.

"Then why are you up here with us kitten?"

For that you have no answer as Kirishima steals your breath. Still following the order to explore you as his fingers swirl over your needy clit with the ease of your own arousal.

"How does she feel?"

"Good." He breathes out, his other hand exploring your chest.

"Nice and slick huh? Easy to pound into. She's always ready to be fucked, doesn't matter how many rounds." Katsuki brags with a chuckle. Kirishima hesitates when you moan. He stops, swallowing.

"Continue but you cannot get her close to cumming. You won't know when to stop and with the way she moans you won't want to stop." Katsuki leans back, placing his hands behind his head.

Kirishima listens as he toys with you, leaning you off of your knees. Spreading your legs so he can better slip a digit in and out of you.

Two sets of eyes have your cheeks burning with desire as you lean your head back crying out with every gentle thrust. With each moan he increases in speed and you feel your core tighten.

Oh are you close, he's only a few thrusts away before fingers are ripped from your oozing center. You cry out, frustrated tears welling in your eyes.

"I told you to watch it. You cannot reward this brat until her behavior changes." Katsuki has Kirishima by the wrist now. He brings his soaked digits to his mouth sucking on Kirishima's middle finger. Your body mirrors Ejis as he shudders with pleasure. Katsuki brings Eiji's forefinger to his own mouth.

"Koinu, taste her." He sucks his own finger holding eye contact with Katsuki, "Good huh?"

"Yes Katsuki-sama."

"Good then you won't mind licking the taste off my cock in a few moments." He pulls on the belt on his pants and places it around Kirishima's throat, leaving the longer end in the front like a leash. He gives it a small tug and Kirishima groans, "I'm going to show you how to fuck her properly."

"Kitten, get into position." He snarls darkly and you obey as you move to all fours before lying on your forearms, pushing your ass up higher for your king. He teases you at first, pushing only the tip in having you begging after the third withdrawal. He obliges by sheathing himself in on hard thrust. You cry out clenching onto him as he pounds into you agonizingly slow.

You buck agaisnt him and receive a fist full of hair pulling you up to all fours.

"Kitten." He says lowly and you whimper, "Did you forget that quickly that I set the pace?"

"No."

"No what?" He stops mid thrust and you squirm. You catch Kirishima staring and embarrassment paints you red.

"No king." You moan, fighting the urge to fuck yourself on him. He eases into a slow pace.

"Koinu, come." Katsu calls and Kirishima's obeys, waiting next to him. Nails bite into your hip as a strong hand wraps over leather, thoroughly enjoying the power you both are lending to him. He pulls on the belt, crashing Eji's mouth to his own, forcing his tongue past sharp teeth for a battle he always wins. He breaks the kiss and both males are panting as you moan. The sight, the sound of their heated grunting kisses and the feel of Katsuki has you so close.

"You've been such a good puppy, that I'm going to change the plans. I'll allow you to help me us my slut." He kisses his lips firmly again, "Kitten suck his dick as well as you do mine while I fuck you senseless okay?"

"Yes king." You breath as Eiji comes into view. Slowly freeing himself and you cannot stop your want, your greed from feeling whole in two places. You take him all the way in, though difficult with his length, and gag just as Katsuki likes and Kirishima groans. Hands hesitant to grab onto your hair.

You look up at him, sucking his length as your moans from being fucking vibrate over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck...." He growls, fisting your hair as your head bobs quickly. He looks down on you with glazed ruby eyes and drinks in the sight of you. Cheeks flushed, eyes every now and again threatening to roll back and delicate mouth wrapped around his length.

The sight alone could have him come undone and when he watches his master pound into you his dick twitches eliciting a whine from you. You push him further when you pull on his "leash" choking him a devilish smile on your lips.

"Good idea Kitten." Katsuki praises with a smack on the ass before grabbing onto the belt and tugging on it hard. Kirishima gasps and the leather slaps your back, still working diligently to receive your mouth filling surprise.

"Katsuki-sama..." He groans.

"You're close already?" He laughs as a devilish smile plasters his lips, "She's good isn't she? Now Koinu has she been good enough to allow her to cum? She feels like she's been edged enough. She must love being used."

You work harder and faster, anything to get him to agree to rewarding you.

"Aaaahhh. Yes, yes she has."

"Well you know the rule, ladies first then we can paint her should we wish." He squeezes onto your hips as he begins to take harder and sloppier thrusts. He knows God damn well you cum best when he's about too.

And now to have the stimulation of two throbbing cocks inside you does send you over the edge.

Twitching, a moaning muffled screamed mess as tears run down your cheeks still trying to please the man before you. Your release sets off a chain reaction as your mouth is filled with what you crave before Katsuki sends you spiraling again with his own grunting release.

Slowly the three of you disentangle, Katsuki pulling you into Kirishima for a moment as he leaves to get a warm rag.

He cleans you gently, then deft fingers make quick work of removing the belt from a sore but happy throat. He looks at you both, palm behind each head and places the most stomach fluttering kiss on each of your heads.

"Now I've shown you how she likes to he fucked. When she's bratty just be extra stern okay?" He says to Kirishima as he goes to get dressed. His heart breaks knowing what his words mean but fire is lit in your stomach. You grab onto his wrist yanking him down onto the two of you. Ash blonde brows furrow as they stare up at you, firmly held by a strong masculine arm to two opposing bodies.

"You have an obligation to us, King." Your voice is all bite, all venom with warning that if he leaves there will be HELL to pay.

"Is that so?" He chuckles looking to Kirishima, "You agree?"

"I agree. You belong with us. This Kitten and Koinu might go wild with out a proper King." His voice is back to all confidence as it dances on the fringes of a threat.

Katsuki laughs harshly before kissing you both with breath stealing ferocity.

"Guess you always get what you want huh brat?"

[seiyasabi]

Deception

(This is a Yandere L x Cute Blushy Female Reader story :)) Just a warning; I’m trying my best to make my fics as inclusive as possible, so this may not be as detailed as possible. I hope you understand. 

TW: Stalking!, breaking and entering, stolen items, spy cameras!, unknown voyeurism!, mutual masturbation!, etc.. 

Sorry if this seems OOC!) 

With slightly shaking hands, you place a piece of chocolate cake in front of the dark haired detective, “I’m sorry, Lawliet, it’s just-” You fiddle with the hem of your jumper, a dark blush covering your cheeks, “Thu-they, uhm, they stole my… undergarments. I’m missing five panties that were in my dirty clothes, and, uhm, that means that they were inside my flat. I’m really scared! What if they hurt me?” 

Your companion flinches at your words. Hurt you?! He would never hurt you! Not that you know that, of course. L has only put up spy cameras and stolen small items, he isn’t planning on doing anything harmful. 

Luckily for him, you haven’t found the spy cameras, allowing him to watch over you. 

But, that’s beside the point. Right now, your cute self needs consolation, “I see. It seems that they’ve escalated from peeping outside your window, to breaking in. Did you ever install those security cameras I told you about?”

You nod your head vehemently, holding clasped hands over your chest, “Yes! I installed them the day you told me about them! But, somehow, they were able to turn off the live feed!” Small scared tears bead your eyes, causing the aloof man to bring you into a hug. He holds you to his chest as you cry, glaring at your closing staff that look in your direction. 

One of his hands rubs circles on your lilac clad sweater, your matching skirt rubs against his other arm. Your cute outfit is to die for, and he can’t wait to see you out of it later tonight. 

“You’ll be alright. I’ll find the person soon, and they’ll be locked up far, far away from you,” You look up at him with watery, hopeful eyes, causing him to continue, “I found a few finger prints, and I think if I scan them into the system, I could find a match.”

A bright smile overtakes your features, as you pull him into an even tighter embrace, “Really? I’m so happy! Thank you so much!”

He chuckles wryly, smoothing a hand down your side, “Don’t worry your pretty head about it,” He can see you flush at his indirect compliment, “But, don’t celebrate too early. I haven’t caught them yet.”

Blushing even darker, you release him to fiddle with your skirt, “Well, I-I know that, but, a lot of police don’t believe me whenever I report a break in. They brush me off because they don’t leave any evidence behind, and you’re the first one to ever help me. I really appreciate you! From now on, you can have an entire cake for free!” 

He pinches one of your cheeks, enjoying the feeling of your blush between his fingertips, “You don’t need to do that. A slice of your delicious cake is more than enough.”

Gaping at him in shock, you shake your head in disbelief, “Whaaat? Where’s Lawliet, and what did you do to him?! He would never say no to cake!” Releasing your cheek, he pats your head affectionately. 

“You let me have multiple slices of cake while I’m here, that is more than enough.” 

Huffing with a pout, you nod your head in understanding, “Fine, no full cake for you.”

One of your workers calls your name, causing you to perk up, and immediately hurry over to them. Zoning out of your conversation, L finishes off his cake, watching your excitable form help the others clock out. His eyes rake over your body, mouth salivating at the image of you. He can’t wait to frame your ex-con neighbour. Once he does that, you’ll surely fall into his arms, allowing a beautiful romance to blossom. 

Seeing you skippin back over to him, he looks back at his now empty plate, “Okie dokie! Am I able to take your plate? I don’t want to keep you waiting to walk me home,” He nods, and you grab his plate and cutlery, hurrying towards your kitchen. 

After your workers leave and he can hear the sink in the back, he allows an uncharacteristic smile to stretch across his face. 

Everything is going according to plan. 

-

“-Thank you for walking me home! I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me!” You wave at the crazy haired man, a cute blush and shy smile on your pretty face. 

He nods in acknowledgement, watching you go inside, before waiting a few moments. Once he hears you lock the doors, he hauls ass to his flat. 

People automatically move out of his way, allowing him to get home in a record time. Once inside, he hurries to his computer chair, and boots up his computer. 

Pulling up the live feed in your home, he watches you intently. L loves watching you cook, clean, pee, shower-everything. Everything about you is perfectly and adorably done, pulling at his heartstrings exponentially. 

He spends a good three hours watching you do mundane tasks, before his favourite part of your day begins; shower time. 

Watching your perfect body be on display for him is enough to get him hard, but you lathering yourself with a thick, white liquid is enough to make him bust at the implications. You truly have him whipped-wait, what are you doing? 

His dark eyes watch as you open what he assumed was a sewing box, only to pull out a portable hitachi wand. L’s mouth falls open in shock, he’s never seen you masturbate, and he’s watched you for a little over a year! Hell, he didn’t even know you had a sex toy! 

You continue on, completely unaware of his prying eyes. Picking out a large t-shirt and panties, you continue to your bathroom. Once inside, you set down the clothes and vibrator on your counter, before stripping yourself of your outfit. 

Your body now on full display, you grab your vibrator, and bring yourself to your tub. Stepping inside it, you sit down with ease, before parting your legs, leaving your pretty cunny on full display. Thank God L put a camera in your shower head. 

Pulling the shower head feed up on full display, he quickly pulls his hardening cock out of his joggers. 

Lawliet watches as you start to rub up your body, pinching your nipples lightly, and teasingly touching your slit but neglecting your clit. Seeing this, he starts to rub his tip with his thumb, spreading his bead of precum all over his head. 

This goes on for a few moments, your small moans making his hair stand on end. You have no idea what you do to him. 

Feeling that you’re not ready, you grab your vibrator, flicking it on with your nimble thumb. The loud noise can be heard echoing throughout your bathroom and through his speakers, setting him on edge on what is about to happen. 

Placing the silicone tip to your pretty clit, a loud keen escapes your lips. L groans at the sound, eyes trained on your glistening core. His hand starts to stroke his throbbing cock, trying to go in sync with the low vibrating. 

Your moans and whines almost make him bust right there, but he holds it in with all his might. He needs to cum with you, which seems to be approaching soon. 

Flicking the switch once more, you allow the vibrations to increase tenfold. Your moans are now at full volume, your hips bucking into the hitachi. Slick drips from your cunny into a pool underneath your plush ass, causing grunts to fall freely from Lawliet’s mouth. 

“Fuck, you look-shit-” He murmers to himself, watching as you suddenly gush in orgasm. Your squirt comes out in a giant gush, soaking your cunny and making your legs shake in euphoria. Small keens fall from your lips, as L distractedly cums all over himself with a deep gasp. 

Lawliet doesn’t bother to clean himself up, only watching in awe, as he watches you stand to your unsteady feet. You then set the vibrator aside, and turn on the shower, warming water raining down on your tired body. 

Yeah, things are falling into place quite well. 

He’s sure to have you very soon. 

[atlafan]

Night Shift - One Shot

a/n: back at it again with another Halloween themed fic! This was inspired by an ask requesting Harry and Y/N both work/meet in the ER. Slight twist on it, but I hope you like it! Reblogs and feedback are super helpful! (not proofread)

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut at the end

Words: 6.8K

Becoming a doctor took a lot of hard work dedication. Countless sleepless nights, a large debt to pay back, finding a hospital to become a resident in, and countless seminars to go to, to make sure all practices were up to date. At first, Y/N hated working the graveyard shift. She rarely got to see friends or family, she was getting minimal amounts of sleep because, let’s face it, sleeping during the day never worked out the way you wanted it to. However, she stopped minding it so much when one of the nicest nurses took his turn on the overnight shifts.

Nurse Styles was usually the voice of reason. He could calm any patient down, and the kids in pediatrics loved him. He always had a lollypop ready to go. All of the nurses took turns with the different shifts so it was fair for everyone. He had heard of Dr. Y/L/N, but had never met her. She was newer to the hospital, a white coat, but still baby-faced. Harry really enjoyed being a nurse, he didn’t want to be the person in there doing surgery, but he liked being able to get things started, and ease someone into the more difficult things. He had a way of administering bad news, and easing the pain from it. His broad shoulders were perfect for crying on, and if it was a kid he needed to prep for getting their appendix out, he held their hand the entire way to the operating room.

Y/N was just getting in, putting her things in her breakroom cubby when Harry walked in. He smiles at her, and she smiles back as he also puts his things away.

“Chilly out there tonight.” He says as he puts his scrubs on over his long sleeve under armor. She only looked for a second, his arm muscles were certainly defined. “I don’t think we’ve properly met yet, I’m Harry.” He extends her hand and she takes it.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, lucky for you I’ll be your nurse for the next couple of months.”

“You seem a little too chipper about working overnight.” She chuckles as she gets her white coat on and stethoscope around her neck.

“I don’t mind it.” He shrugs. “A lot of the other nurses have spouses and kids they rarely get to see, so it’s only fair I take my turn on the overnight stuff. I usually take it this time of year anyways.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Halloween crazies start trickling towards the end of September. Think the staff likes having me as extra muscle or whatever.”

Her face pales as she looks at him. She had completely forgotten about Halloween. Last year she worked during the day, but she had heard about all of the nonsense from the entire weekend. Drunk people needing their stomach pumped, car wrecks, people on drugs, etc.

“So, what’s your specialty? You’re not a surgeon are you?” He breaks her from her trance.

“No, I’m not a surgeon, just a regular old doctor. I almost ended up in maternity like a lot of female doctors, but it wasn’t for me.” They both walk into the main area so they can get briefed for the night.

Harry says hello to the other nurses at the desk, and he takes his seat to login into the computer. There was another doctor on the overnight shifts, Dr. Gilles, and Y/N really couldn’t stand him. He was one of those doctors who was sort of rude to the nurses because he had been at the hospital for a while, but he was handsome so a lot of them didn’t even care. He would flirt with Y/N when he’d get the chance, but she didn’t really like it. She’d seen Scrubs, she didn’t need the drama that comes with hooking up with a coworker. Not to mention the guy was, like, forty, and she was only pushing thirty. To some that may not be a big age difference, but it weirded her out nonetheless. It weirded her out more when he’d catch her flirting with some of the younger nurses.

“Evening everyone.” Dr. Gilles. “He says as he walks up to the desk. “Quiet so far?”

“Pretty much.” Nurse Halleran says. “Hope it stays that way. You’ve got a couple of people you just need to check in on.” She hands him a few charts and he nods as he takes them. “How are you, Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Good.” She says as she looks over her cuticles. She feels his eyes burn into her, and she fiddles with some of the pens on the desk. “Nurse Styles, back on the graveyard, huh?”

“Yup.” Harry says with a fake smile. He also did not like Dr. Gilles. He felt protective over the other nurses, and none of them felt uncomfortable by Dr. Gilles, but he was a married man who openly flirted with people, and that kind of behavior just didn’t fly with Harry. “Dr. Y/L/N, one of your patients needs their vitals checked. Young thing, coming down from a bladder and kidney infection.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Harry hands her the chart and she looks it over as they walk to where the patient was sleeping.

Bethany Martin, ten years old, bladder and kidney infection. Another doctor wanted to size her up for an appendix removal, but it was Y/N that discovered that it wasn’t the child’s appendix. The girl had told her the pain had moves from the front of her stomach, to her side, and then to her back. She got major brownie points from the administration for making that catch.

Her and Harry slowly go into the room. Her father was sleeping in one of the fold out chairs provided. He wakes up when he hears the door open.

“Hello, Mr. Martin.” Y/N whispers with a smile. “We’re just going to check on Beth’s vitals, see how her fever’s doing, alright?”

“Sure thing, thank you.” He stands up and goes over to his daughter to help her wake up a little.

“Hmm.” The girl slowly opens her eyes, and then she smiles when she sees Y/N. See, Beth was scared that she was going to get cut open, so she was beyond grateful that she didn’t have to have surgery. “Hello.” She says sleepily.

“Hi, sweetheart, I need to check a few things, would that be alright?” Y/N asks.

“Yes.”

“Hi, Beth, how’s your IV feeling in that hand?” Harry asks her.

“It’s itchy, Nurse Harry.”

He smiles at her. A lot of the kids would call him that instead of Nurse Styles, he thought it was sweet.

“Think we should switch it to your other hand then.”

“Why’s it in her hand and not in her arm?” Y/N questions.

“We had a tough time…this one likes to pull away.” Harry explains and winks at Beth which makes her giggle.

Y/N let’s Harry switch out the IV. She lets Beth hold her hand as she winces from the needle. Once he’s done, Y/N checks everything else. She has Beth roll onto her stomach so she can feel around her back.

“I haven’t been as achy.” Beth says as she gets settled on her back once more. “It still hurts a little though.”

“Mm, I bet. Took us a bit to figure things out with you, but you seem to be doing a lot better. Should only need to be here for another few days. We’ll come back to check on you later this morning.”

“Thank you.” She snuggles back into her blankets and slowly falls back asleep.

Mr. Martin thanks Y/N and Harry before they leave, and she they both go to wash their hands at one of the sink stations.

“Nurse Harry, huh? Do all the little girls call you that?” Y/N smirks.

“Why, jealous?” He bumps his hip to hers before grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands. She rolls her eyes at him, and he chuckles. “The kids just tend to call me that, I don’t mind it.”

“It must ease them a bit more to be on a first name basis, I should remember that. I hate seeing kids in pain, I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“I know it sucks, but I actually like working with the kids more. They at least listen to us. Some of these adult patients…they fight us on every little thing sometimes.” They make their way back to the desk.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” Nurse Stevens says to her. “I’m going on a coffee run, would you like anything?”

“You’re an angel, yes”, she reaches into her pocket for some loose singles, “just a regular with a little cream, no sugar, thank you.”

“Harry?” She says to him.

“Brought my thermos, but thanks Ellie.” He smiles at her and she nods before going on her way.

“She’s the best, I’ve worked with her during the day before.” Y/N says to Harry.

“Yeah, Ellie and I came on together.”

“Oh, really?”

Harry hums his response as he types some notes into the computer. Harry and Ellie had a bit of a past, nothing serious, but they had hooked up on occasion. Being a nurse meant working a lot of long days, and that left little room for a social life or companionship. They may or may not have taken advantage of the beds in the room adjacent to the breakroom a few times, but that was a year or so ago. She had started seeing someone, so they ended things amicably.

“Why just the cream and no sugar?” He asks to change the subject.

“Well, for a while I was doing the keto thing, which is absolute rubbish and I never should have done it, but I got into the habit of not adding sugar to things. I don’t like the taste of black coffee, it’s too bitter, so the cream helps. I don’t miss the sugar, in fact, I can’t stand really sugary drinks in general.”

“Why’d you do the keto in the first place?”

“Oh, I was looking to lose some weight before a wedding I had to go to. I was a bridesmaid so I just wanted to look nice in the pictures, you know? It works when you stick to it, but as soon as I stopped I gained most of it back. Deprivation diets are never a good idea, and I knew it, but did it anyways because it was a quick way to do things.” He goes to say something, but decides against it. Her head tilts as she can tell he’s withholding something. “Go ahead, tell me as a doctor it was stupid of me to jump on a fad diet.” She sighs and leans on the tall desk.

“No, I was just going to say…” He blushes slightly. “Well, I just feel bad that you thought you needed to lose any weight because you…well…you must know how beautiful you are as is.”

She stands up straight. She literally just met this man tonight, what was going on? Just as she was about to say something, Ellie comes back with the coffee.

“Here you go.” She smiles.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N takes the coffee. “I’m gonna go take a walk to the other nurse’s station, see how they’re doing. Page me if you need anything.”

Harry watches her walk away and he groans with his head in his hands.

“Don’t tell me.” Ellie smirks. “You have a crush on Dr. Y/L/N…shocking.” Ellie giggles and rolls her eyes.

“I just met her, I don’t have a crush on her. But I may have just said something inappropriate.”

“You?!” Ellie was shocked. “Harry, you’re, like, the nicest person I know. What did you say?”

“I just told her she was beautiful.”

“It’s not like it’s a lie, she’s rather pretty. Seems to take care of herself. It’s not an easy thing to do, especially on these shifts.”

“I know! It just felt weird after I said it. I don’t wanna be like Dr. Gilles, you know?”

“Please.” She scoffs. “You’re nothing like him.”

Y/N does her nightly rounds, checking on her various patients. A few people come in that need to be checked right away, but other than that things were quiet. Around six in the morning she and Harry go to check on little Beth again.

“Definitely only need you here another couple of nights. Keep getting those fluids in, and this fever will go away in no time.” Y/N says.

The girl nods at her tiredly before falling back asleep. Y/N helps out with some last minute patients before going to the breakroom to change. Harry was in there taking his shirt off. She tries not to stare as he pulls a sweatshirt on over himself. She wouldn’t have minded a few more moments to examine his tattoos. She knew he had a few just from his left hand alone, but shit, he had them all over his chest and stomach!

“Well, see you tonight. Hope you can get some sleep.” Harry says to her.

“Same to you.” She smiles and goes into her locker.

“I hope, uh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier in the night…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You didn’t, it’s fine…I’m just one of those people that has a tough time taking a compliment. Um, it happened to me in school a lot too, like, if someone told me I was smart or something, you know?”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I appreciate that, Harry, thank you.”

He nods and heads out. On his way home he realizes he’s far too awake to be able to fall asleep, so when he gets into his flat he takes a sleeping pill, and nestles down with a cup of tea while he watches a little TV. Once his eyes feel tired he heads to bed, getting cozy under his blankets, and eventually passing out.

Y/N does something similar. She definitely takes a sleeping pill before jumping into a warm shower. She pulls her blackout curtains, and gets into bed. Her eyelids feel heavier and heavier as she listens to a podcast, and she slowly falls asleep.

//

Things went on like that for the next couple of weeks. Harry would often assist Y/N on her rounds. He liked that she wasn’t one of those snooty doctors that discounted the nurses, she really seemed to value their opinions, even consulting with them when she needed to. They became fast friends too, often eating together or taking coffee breaks at the same time. She learned that Harry was a couple of years younger than her, and he had been at this hospital for around five years. He explained he liked working at a hospital rather than a smaller practice so he could help more people, and she said she felt the same way.

“Maybe when I’m, like fifty, I’ll settle and open up my own practice. But only because I might not have the same spring in my step.” She chuckles as they both sit and enjoy some coffee.

“You can really sprint when you need to! You were incredible when that guy came in with that allergic reaction the other night.”

“I was internally freaking out the whole time to be honest with you. I was glad to have you there to help me intubate him.”

“Feel like I can do that with my eyes closed now.” He laughs and finishes his warm drink. “I hate to be one of those people, but you’re looking a little tired tonight.”

“Oh, that’s because I never left this morning. I worked all day, took a nap, and then got right back on it.”

“Y/N, that’s not okay. You can’t do your job properly if you’re tired.”

“I know, but we were short staffed, and I was only going to stay a couple of hours, but I got wrapped up with a couple of people. I’m fine, honest, I’ll have a good sleep when I get home later.”

“Shit like that used to happen to me all the time. I’d work sixteen hour days, and then they’d yell at me because I was getting so much overtime, and I’d tell them to hire more bloody people then. It was infuriating. Then you think the place is gonna fall apart without you when you finally do get some time off.”

“Literally! I think that’s why I got stuck here for so long. I have the next couple of days off, though, so I’m looking forward to that.”

“Yeah? Any big plans?”

“No.” She scoffs. “Not unless you consider binging a fuck ton of television while eating a gallon of ice cream big plans.”

“Depends on the show, what’s on the docket to be binged?”

“I’ve been meaning to sit down and watch Ratched. I’ve heard some mixed reviews, but I’m just so intrigued.”

“Mm, nothing better than a show about a crazy nurse.” He rolls his eyes.

“Aw, feeling a little misrepresented?” She smirks.

“Maybe a wee bit. Let me know if it’s worth the watch, though, yeah?”

“Definitely.” She finishes up her coffee and sighs. “Back to it I suppose.”

“Go lay down if you want, we’re not busy.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m catching a second wind.” She stands up and shakes her body out. “See, awake and ready to-“, her beeper goes off, “Shit, some teenagers were just brought in.”

They both hurry out of the breakroom, and go to where they’re needed. Three teenage boys were laying in hospital beds, clearly in pain.

“Alright, what seems to be the problem here?” Y/N says as Harry works on taking their vitals.

“We…fell off the water tower.” One of them says.

She sighs and starts checking for bumps and bruises. She doesn’t ask why they were there, she was sure their parents would rip them a new one for that. A few sprained ankles, and one broken wrist, but nothing too serious otherwise. Y/N gives her instructions to Harry, and tells the boys they’ll need to switch off between aspirin and ibuprofen to help with pain and inflammation. Harry gets the broken wrist into a splint and sling, and gets the others settled as well.  

“Isn’t this a little backwards?” One of them says to him after Y/N’s left. “Isn’t she supposed to be the nurse?”

“Well, considering that she went to school for a lot longer than I did, and probably has a lot more knowledge about the body than I do, I’d say she’s supposed to be the doctor.” Harry says.

“Isn’t it weird being a male nurse though?”

“M’not a male nurse.” He makes some notes on the laptop he was using. “I’m just a nurse.” He closes the laptop and looks at the three of them. “Your parents should be here soon, hope you lot feel better, and be safer out there.”

It wasn’t the first time Harry got a comment like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t go to school as premed and then go off to a fancy medical school. He majored in Allied Health in uni, and passed all his tests. That was it, and that was all he wanted to do. There was nothing wrong with that. He was proud of himself. He hoped Y/N was proud of herself too.

//

Flu shot season was in full swing, and there were usually a couple of days a year the hospital did walk-in appointments so people could come in easily to get them. Harry had picked up a shift to administer them. Y/N had come in to be on call so one of the other doctors could have the day off. She smiles when she sees Harry in the cafeteria at lunch.

“Hey, you.” She says as she sits down. “Weird seeing you in the daylight.”

“Could say the same to you. What’s all this about? Don’t tell me you’re working another triple…” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“No, I swapped shifts with Dr. Jollas so she could have the day with her kids. What are you doing here today?”

“I’m on for the flu shots. It’s an easy enough shift to pick up.”

“Get a lot of people in for that?”

“Sure, tons.”

“That makes me happy to hear.” She sighs.

“How were your couple of days off? Did you watch your show?”

“I only watched about two episodes…there was a lot more gore than I was expecting.”

“Y/N…you’re a doctor…”

“Yes, and I can handle small amounts of blood, especially when I’m in the moment helping someone, but there was literally a scene where they were showing how lobotomies were done and a scene where this kid cut off his own arms, so it was a bit much for me. Not something I should be watching alone, anyways.”

“That’s gross.” Harry grimaces. “Don’t blame you for not getting through it.”

“So I ended up just re-watching The Office for the millionth time. It was perfect.” She chuckles. “Are you working all of Halloween weekend?”

“I am.” He nods. “I hope you’ll add some flare to your outfit. The kids like it when we do.”

“Some flare, huh?”

“I have these scrubs that have pumpkins, ghosts, and black cats on them.”

“Hm, I’ll have to think about what I can add. I have some earrings with witches on them, that could be fun.”

“As long as you get into the spirt somehow. We all decorate the nurse’s station and everything. Ellie usually brings in cupcakes too.”

“Speaking of her…” Y/N leans in a bit. “Did you catch the rock on her finger? I’m happy for her and all, but she said she’s only been with her fiancé for eight months. It’s a bit fast.”

“Well, they were casual before they made things official. She was, uh, seeing a couple of people, and then he asked her to get serious and she did.” He shrugs.

“Oh, I see.” She nods and sits back. “I’m not judging or anything, I mean, I guess when you, you know.” She takes a bite of her food, and then leans back in. “Can I ask you something?” She whispers.

“Always.” He leans in as well. Harry be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy a spot of gossip, and Y/N had become his new favorite person to gossip with. It didn’t take them long to become the two bitches that are always talking shit about everyone else.

“Do people use the bunk room to bone?”

His face flushes, and then he clears his throat.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you know everything about this place! I wish it was a singles only room because I swear I saw Nurse Halleran and Dr. Gilles coming out of there, and only one of the beds looked used.”

Harry makes a disgusted face and rolls his eyes.

“I feel bad for whoever he’s married to.” He shakes his head. “Scumbag.”

“Nurse Halleran’s married too! I could never do that. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, and maybe I’ve thought someone else is attractive, I can appreciate a pretty face, but I would never cheat on my significant other. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Same here. That’s, like, the ultimate betrayal. How do you even come back from that? I get that our jobs can make for lonely lives, but make the time count at home when you can.”

“Does he have kids?”

“No, I think that’s why he doesn’t feel bad about it. She has two kids, though, I don’t know, I only talk to her about work things if I can help it. I miss some of my girls from the day shifts, like, Shauna is super nice and has this really warm smile.”

“Feel like she’s the hospital granny.” Y/N smiles. “I like her a lot too, the few interactions I’ve had with her.”

“How long do you think they’ll keep you on the night shift for?”

“I have no idea, think I’m just paying my dues as the new doctor. I’m getting more used to it, it’s not too bad. If it goes through summer I can drag my bum to the beach and sleep there.” She laughs and so does he.

“Might have to join you for that, I love getting a good tan.”

“It’s a date.” She says, more so as a joke, but from the way he looks at her he may have taken it a different way, so she clears her throat and laughs it off. “Anyways, I better get back to it. Nothing worse than being in the middle of eating and the beeper going off.” She stands up. “Have a good one, Harry.”

“You too.” He watches her walk away, and he sighs.

//

On Halloween, Y/N goes in a few hours early because she was told they let the kids go around the halls to the different nurse’s stations to trick or treat, and she really didn’t want to miss out on it. She puts on her witches earrings, and some spooky pins for her coat, and out she goes. She stops off at the store to buy some extra candy, and puts it in a pumpkin shaped bucket. She smiles when she sees Harry behind the desk already in his Halloween scrubs.

“Excellent effort.” He says, and then taps his finger over his mouth in thought. “Could use a little something extra, though.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She sets the candy down on the desk and he walks around it.

“Follow me.” Y/N follows Harry into the breakroom, and he pulls a bag out of his locker. He has her go into the unisex bathroom wither, and she sits up on the counter for him. “I’m working a double today, I did some face painting earlier for some of the younger kids. Sort of a way to give them a costume for when they walk around.”

“Harry, why don’t you just solely work in pediatrics?”

“Because I did some face painting for the elderly too, now hush. I need to concentrate.”

He takes what looks like a black sharpie out of the bag, but Y/N recognizes it as liquid eye-liner.

“What exactly are you going to do with that? Give me cat eyes?” She chuckles.

“No, you dolt, we’d need hours for that. I’m just gonna draw a little spider web on your cheek, alright?”

“Okay.”

Harry had never been this close to her face before. She got a nice whiff of his cologne, and she liked being able to see the few freckles he had. She notices now he’s painted his nails black and orange, he must really like Halloween. She closes her eyes as he starts drawing on her right cheek. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. A slight gasp leaves her lips when his other hand grips her chin to tilt her head.

“Still just me, don’t worry.” He chuckles. “Don’t get jumpy on me.”

“M’not, sorry.” She sucks her lips into her mouth as his hand moves to the side of her neck. Y/N may or may not be a little touch starved.

“Almost done.” He says just as she was opening her eyes back up.

“Harry, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

“Shut up.” He scoffs, and finishes up. “All done, tell me what you think.”

“I mean it!” She says as he backs away enough for her to hop off the counter and turn around in the mirror. “Oh, excellent job. I especially like that you drew a little spider dangling from the web.”

“It’s my signature detail. Now you look perfect.” They look at each other through the mirror. “We should probably get out of here before someone thinks we’re boning.”

She bursts out laughing at that.

“Good one.” She says and shakes her head.

“It wasn’t that funny.” He mutters as he puts the bag back in his locker.

“N-no, it wasn’t.” She clears her throat. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He nudges her shoulder and they walk back out to the main area.

The trick or treating was a lot of fun, and the kids seemed to have their spirits lifted. Then shit got real when the drunk people started coming in, the people the police had to bring in for psych evaluations, and the people that had too many edibles. It was crazy busy, Y/N had been running around all night. She was given the okay to go lay down for about thirty minutes since she had come in early. She stops short when she sees Harry laying in one of the bunks. He was laying on his side with his arms crossed over his chest. She quietly slips into one of the other bunks, and takes a deep breath.

“You’re awfully loud.” He says.

“Christ! I was quieter than a mouse!” She says, and turns to face him. He opens his eyes and grins at her. “Ah, you were just fucking with me.”

“Obviously.”

“Busy out there tonight. I mean, I expected it, but still.”

“I know.” He yawns and stretches out. “I’ve been in here too long, I need to go back out before I get groggy.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slowly gets up. “Have a nice snooze.”

“Thanks.” She chews her bottom lip for a moment. “Do you have any makeup wipes? I’d hate to wake up with a smudged web.”

“Oh, sure, one second.” He leaves momentarily and comes back in with a wipe for her cheek. Instead of handing it to her, he sits on the edge of her bunk, cups one of her cheeks in his hand, and uses the other to carefully wipe off the drawing. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs. “There.” Her eyes open back up and she smiles softly at him.

“Thank you.”

There was something brewing between them, they could both feel it. He’s about to lean in to kiss her, but he hears the click of the door open, and stands up immediately. It was another doctor who was I desperate need of a snooze. Harry leaves, and Y/N tries to relax enough to fall asleep.

They don’t see each other again until the morning when they’re both getting ready to leave. He chews on his inner cheek, trying to work up a little bit of courage.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sure you’re probably tired, but…I have these, uh, pancake stencils where you can make pancakes look like pumpkins or ghosts…I thought maybe we could celebrate surviving Halloween together, but I’ll understand if you’re ready to just crash or-“

“I’d love to have breakfast with you.” She smiles as she closes her locker. “I’m gonna go home and shower. Text me your address, yeah?”

“Alright.” He smiles and watches her walk out.

//

Y/N takes a very quick shower so she can freshen up. She wasn’t sure what might go down between them. She felt like she was getting to be a little too old to just be hooking up with someone, but Harry was really great, so she decides to just go with the flow. She heads to his flat after he sent her his address, making sure to buy some orange juice as something to bring over.

He lets her in and she can’t get over how cozy he looks in his sweatpants, graphic tee, and cardigan. She was in a pair of leggings and a sweater.

“It smells so good in here.” She says.

“Thanks, I made some tea too if you want something warm.”

She nods and he pours her a cup. They giggle over the pancakes, and Harry confirms that Halloween is definitely one of his favorite holidays. The two decide it might be fun to watch a Halloween movie, but naturally after a long sift, they fall asleep together on his sofa. She was nestled into his chest with his arms wrapped around her. She would have slept longer, but she woke up to the sound of him snoring. She shuffles a little, but accidentally knees him in the groin, waking up immediately.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize I was laying on you like this.”

“It’s fine.” He says as he reaches for himself. “I’m good.” He knuckles at one of his eyes, keeping his other arm around her. He looks at the TV screen and sees that something else had come on. “Slept through the movie…”

“Guess we got a little too comfy.” She looks up at him. “Forgot how nice it was to cuddle with someone.” She mumbles tiredly.

“We could…go to my bed if you want, have a proper cuddle.”

“Would you spoon me if we do that?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

She nods yes, so he manages to pick her up, and carry her to his bedroom. She almost didn’t want to let go him when he sets her down, but all is good once he slides in next to her, pulls the blankets over them, and he wraps himself around her. She sighs as his pelvis aligns with her bum, and his arm wraps around her waist.

“Good?” He asks.

“Mhm.” She wiggles against him to get even more comfortable.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not.”

“Because I’ll get excited, and that’ll make things awkward.”

“Define excited.”

“You know exactly what I mean, Y/N.” He sighs.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I’ll get hard, and it’s already difficult enough to control that around you, so-“

“You can press it against me if you want, I don’t mind.” She looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re serious?”

“If I wasn’t I certainly wouldn’t have let you carry me to your bed.” She rolls onto her other side to face him. “I like being your friend and all, but I’ve done this with someone who’s just a friend before. I…I feel like we almost kissed earlier…”

“We did. Can we try again now?”

“Please.”

His hand slides to the back of her neck and he pulls her closer to him. His lips still tasted like the syrup they put on their pancakes, and she likes it more than she really should. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and he opens up for her. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she tugs him on top of her as she turns onto her back. One of his legs goes between hers, and she grunts when she feels his thigh right on her. She wraps her arms around his neck as their tongues still mold together.

She slips her other leg around his waist so he could lay full between her. He groans into her mouth as he grinds himself against her. A soft moan leaves her lips when she feels how hard he is. She could feel herself throbbing for him. He sits up a little, just to get his cardigan off, and her hands slide up his stomach under his shirt. He shudders from her touch, and he just takes his shirt off too. Her eyes widen as she can finally look over his tattoos.

“This is beautiful.” She says as her fingers trace over the butterfly on his torso.

“Thanks.” He smiles and gets back down to lay on her chest to chest as he kisses her.

He kisses from her lips, along her jaw, and to her neck, all while she’s grinding herself against him. One of his hands finds her hair and he yanks her head to the side so he can get better access to her neck. He licks over the spot just below her ear, and he sinks his teeth in. He sucks on her soft skin, and her mouth falls open. She normally wasn’t super into biting, but whatever he was doing felt really good. When he pops off her she puts her hand over the new bruise.

“That’s definitely gonna leave a mark.” She says to him.

“Kind of the whole point.” He smirks. “Maybe Dr. Gilles will leave you alone if he thinks you’re already getting it from someone else.”

“Not very professional though, is it?”

“That nice white coat of yours will cover it. Wear your hair down for a few days, no one will notice. Or maybe they will, oh well. I’ve never much cared what other people think.”

“That’s because you’re not the one walking around with a mark on your neck.” She pouts at him.

“I could be if you wanted to give me one.”

She bites her bottom lip to contemplate just about every little thing that’s going on between them. She had her legs around him, she was in his bed, and he was shirtless sucking marks into her neck.

“Are…are you going to fuck me?” She asks.

“Do you want me to?”

“Kinda.” She giggles. “You’re, um, really sexy, Harry.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you to say, but ‘kinda’ isn’t exactly a yes, Y/N.”

“Could we maybe just…touch each other? Below the belt?”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

He rolls them both over so they’re on their sides facing each other again, and he pulls her leg up over his hip. She reaches for him first, skimming her fingers along the band of his sweatpants before dipping her fingers him. His breath hitches as she palms him over his boxers.

“You’re okay with this?” She asks him.

“Very.” He grunts. “Go for it.”

She nods and slips her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her hand around his warm cock. She bites her bottom lip as she runs her thumb over his tip, which was already leaking precome, and she slides it down his length.

His hand grips her ass before sliding it around to her front, and pulling her leggings back so he can get his hand in. A moan leaves his lips when he feels her wetness through her thong. He pets over at first, teasing her a little, but she squeezes him a little too tight, and that was signal enough to get the show on the road. He tugs her thong to the side, and runs his fingers along her slit before dipping his middle finger inside her. She squeezes around the intrusion, and then she relaxes a bit for him.

Harry slides another finger inside her, and works them in and out as his thumb takes care of her clit. He leans in to kiss her as they work each other over. She sucks on his bottom lip as she pumps his slick cock in her hand. He finds himself bucking into her grasp, but neither seem to care since she was grinding against his fingers. He curls them up inside her, and that’s when she starts breathing heavily.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth falls open and she starts pumping him faster. “Fuck, oh my god, H-Harry, it feels so good, don’t stop.” She was nearly gagging for it, and it shocked him to see her falling apart like this just from him fingering her.

“Y/N.” He moans and presses his forehead to hers. “I’m gonna come.”

“M-me too, shit.”

She feels her hand become warm and sticky as she comes around his fingers. She tightens around him to make it last as long as possible, and then she catches breath. She doesn’t want to make a mess of his sweat pants, so she takes her hand out slowly, keeping as much of his come in her palm as she can. They make eye contact, and she licks her palm clean. He does the same by sucking his fingers into his mouth.

“You’re, like, a little kinky.” She chuckles and so does he.

“You literally just did the same as me!”

“I was trying not to make a mess of your sheets!”

“I can wash ‘em.” He laughs more, and then tucks some hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you like me a little more than I thought.”

“A lot more, actually. You like me too?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I like you, Harry.”

“Thank god, I didn’t want this to be awkward at work.”

“Just don’t try to get busy with me in the bunk room. I will not contribute to that.”

“Listen, when you’re tired and desperate, it’s not such a bad place to get frisky.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She rolls her eyes. “Could I use your bathroom quick? And then if you don’t mind, I would actually love to sleep a bit more.”

“Of course! And yeah, that sounds good.”

She uses his bathroom, and he cleans himself up. He offers some pajama pants a tee shirt, and she happily accepts. She changes and crawls back into bed with him. He spoons her, and rubs at her side, giving her a kiss once in a while on the back of her neck. As she falls asleep in his arms she thinks she had never been so thankful to work on a holiday in her life.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... Mama’s Birthday

This is a request for some more DeeDee & Erik from @shaekingshitup. ENJOY!

DeeDee stretched out her arms and legs in her seat. Erik looked over at her as she curled into herself and put her legs down before she sat straight up. He rubbed his face and yawned while DeeDee bounced in her seat, waiting for the plane to roll to a complete stop. 

They got on this flight at 6 am PST and it was now 2 pm CST in Louisiana. When the seatbelt light turned off, Erik slowly stood up and stretched himself out. He reached up and grabbed their carry-on luggage, then waited for DeeDee to move past him. They walked hand-in-hand through the airport terminal to pick up their rental car.

DeeDee was excited to be home. Yes, her life was now in California with Erik, but she would always call Louisiana home. They were here for a week and she planned to make the most out of it. It had been almost a year since she left, and she was excited to make her return in such a grand fashion. 

Erik took his hand off the steering wheel and reached out for DeeDee’s. He laced his fingers with hers and kissed the top of it. The diamonds gleamed in the afternoon sun. DeeDee giggled and squeezed his hand.

“So, are we headed to the Juke Joint first? Or did you want to get settled in our hotel room?” Erik kissed her hand again before settling it in his lap.

“I’m hungry, E.”

“And so am I, Dee.”

“For food, man.” DeeDee shook her head, “If we go to the room, who knows what time we’ll surface.”

“Can you blame me?” Erik stopped at a red light and looked at her.

“Erik.”

“Oh, I’m Erik now?” He pouted at her.

“Don’t you start that.” She rolled her eyes, “At least, feed me before you try to put me out of commission.”

Erik focused forward as the light turned green. He released her hand and gripped her thigh. 

“As long as you know what you’re in for.”

“Boy, stop.” DeeDee pushed his shoulder and looked ahead as they drove to Miss Carrie’s restaurant.

---

“My babies are home!”

Miss Carrie yelled when she saw Erik and DeeDee walk through the door. They all shared hugs and Miss Carrie showed them to their booth. 

“How have y’all been?” She spun DeeDee around, “Let me get a good look at ya.” She smiled at them, “Love looks good on you, child.”

“Thanks, Mama,” DeeDee responded as she sat down. 

“And you?” Miss Carrie looked up at Erik, “What do you have to say?”

“It was definitely worth the wait.” He slid into the booth and picked up DeeDee’s hand. 

Miss Carrie’s eyes went wide. She reached across the table for their hands. 

“I am so happy for you two.” She glanced at DeeDee once more, “Anything else you need to tell me?”

“MAMA!!! You and my mom need to stop that.” DeeDee covered her stomach. 

“Girl, your hips have spread. But don’t pay me no mind. I only had 6 of my own.” Miss Carrie shrugged and picked up their menus.

Erik smirked at DeeDee. She punched his thigh under the table. 

“So, I know what I want-”

“Smothered pork chops, with home fries and fried eggs. You still eating that nasty wheat bread, Erik?” Miss Carrie threw out. 

“How do you do that?” Erik shook his head, “Yes, ma’am. But for you and today only, I will do sourdough.”

“Sourdough, huh?” She tapped her pencil on the table, “So, DeeDee is rubbing off on you. Thank god.”

DeeDee and Miss Carrie shared a laugh while Erik frowned. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that weight you put on either, young man.”

Erik lifted his hand to cover his mouth and pointed at DeeDee.

“Not my fault. He loves your cooking, Mama.” She shrugged at him. 

Miss Carrie smiled at her knowingly. “I taught you well, child.” She slapped a towel onto her shoulder.

DeeDee bowed her head at her great-grandmother. Erik laughed at the two of them.

“Mama, I’ll have the -”

“Cheddar, spinach, and mushroom omelet with a side of bacon and sourdough toast.”

“And what are we drinking?” Erik asked Miss Carrie.

“You like that god-awful black coffee and she loves her cranberry juice.” She picked up the menus. “So, how long are you two here for? You’re a few days early for my birthday party.”

“We’re here for the entire week, Mama.” DeeDee answered.

“Great. Can you be here tomorrow at 9am?”

“Ma’am?”

“No need for you to be locked up in some hotel room. Come help me organize my files in the office.”

DeeDee laughed at Erik’s frown. “Sure, I can be here.”

“Wonderful. I’ll be back with your order.” Miss Carrie looked over at Erik, “I’ll make sure you don’t have to go back out to eat tonight.” She winked at him and walked away. 

---

“And you were worried about me overfeeding you?” DeeDee says as she put multiple containers of food into the fridge in their suite. She returned to the counter and folded up the bags.

Erik walked up and wrapped his arms around her, “But you do. Miss Carrie just feeds me differently.” He nipped at her ear.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay over there?”

“But you were so far away from me. I hate being alone.” He kissed her neck.

DeeDee turned around in his arms, “I really wasn’t looking forward to helping, but maybe she has a point.” 

Erik lifted DeeDee up and wrapped her legs around his waist. DeeDee squealed as his hands found her ass to hold her up. 

“Then let me make sure you sleep well tonight. Don’t want you to be late for your first day back at the restaurant.”

---

DeeDee walked into the office the next morning and put away her keys. Miss Carrie and the rest of the staff were in the kitchen getting their day started. She sat down at the desk and took in the moment.

She officially stopped working at the restaurant almost 5 years ago. Miss Carrie wanted her to focus on her Ph.D. program and knew she needed a job in her field. DeeDee would help during the holidays and summer when things were busier than usual, but that was it. 

It felt weird being back in that chair after so long. Dee hadn’t done her great-grandmother’s office work in years. But she knew how meticulous she was with her records. So, it should be easy enough to finish today. 

DeeDee looked up when she heard a knock on the door. Miss Carrie walked in as she tied her apron around her waist and made her way to the desk. 

“Good morning, baby. I wanted to get you started for the day. Just like old times.”

“Thanks, Mama.” DeeDee stood up and kissed her great-grandmother. “So, what do you actually need me to do in here?”

“Well, you know I’m good at keeping all the receipts and such together. But everyone wants me to back it up online.” Miss Carrie pointed to some filing folders on her desk.

DeeDee nodded her head, “Of course. It’ll be easier to update any documents if you have a spreadsheet for your expenses and revenue.” 

“Yeah, that’s the stuff they be sayin’. So, can you do that for me?” Miss Carrie looked up at DeeDee. “You already know my filing system so it makes sense to have you create any report I may need.”

“I can definitely do that for you.” 

“Great, thank you, baby. I’ll let you get to work.” She walked to the door and turned, “Oh, and I’ll send Brenda by with some milk and a freshly baked cinnamon roll for you.”

“Thanks, Mama.” DeeDee smiled at her as Miss Carrie closed the door behind her. 

DeeDee sat back down, grabbed the folders of receipts, and turned on the computer. 

---

DeeDee worked for a few hours and then took a break for lunch. She walked to the kitchen and placed her order before going outside to take a stroll around the property.

She spotted the old house in the back, which is more like a museum now. The house that started it all. Miss Carrie learned how to cook in that house. She taught all her children and grandchildren how to cook there. When they built the current house/restaurant, she started teaching her great-grandchildren how to cook. DeeDee was the only one who took to it and began working at The Juke Joint when she was old enough. 

DeeDee stood in front of it and smiled at the memories of running through the house with her cousins. 

“Were you lucky enough to spend time here?”

She turned to find Erik standing beside her. “Not a lot, but it was enough.” DeeDee hugged Erik, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to tell you lunch was ready.” She looked at him confused and he shrugged.

“Mama.”

“Who else? Now, come on. She said she had something new for me to try.”

DeeDee shook her head and laughed as they walked back towards the restaurant. 

---

On her way back to her seat after a quick bathroom break, Deedee knocked a blue folder off the desk.  She bent down to pick up all the papers that fell out and the first page caught her eye. 

“Ownership? Why would she have these papers out?”

She sat down at the desk and looked through them. DeeDee knew that her great-grandmother was the sole proprietor of The Juke Joint. Miss Carrie completed the restaurant side after her husband died, so she never had a partner. 

As she read through the document that was updated in August 2014, her hold grew tighter and the paper crinkled in her hand. 

“What the fuck?” She slammed it down on the desk. “How could they keep this from me?” 

DeeDee ran her hands over her face, then sat back in the chair. Staring at her on the page were the names of the current owners of The Juke Joint, Carrie Ann Taylor and Erik Stevens.  

She knew Erik had money from being royalty, and she knew he cared about this place as much as she did. During all those chats about how much she loved it here, how did this never come up? It would be different if he had helped with a few thousand dollars to help rebuild and keep the restaurant afloat. 

But he shares ownership with her great-grandmother. This is bigger than that. 

She sighed, “Dammit, Mama. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

DeeDee shoved the paperwork back into its folder and tried to clear up the desk. She was done for the day. The reports were created and she filled in all the expenses. Her great-grandmother could have someone add the revenue later. 

“I can’t believe they lied to me.” 

She got up and grabbed her things just as the door swung open. DeeDee looked at her great-grandmother. 

“You good? I heard some banging around in here.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m exhausted. I forgot what it was like to stare at spreadsheets all day.” She walked to the door. “I’m gonna call it a night. Everything’s done now. You just need your people to work on it.”

“Oh ok. Thank you, baby.” Miss Carrie turned to DeeDee, “I wanted to tell you Erik was here.”

DeeDee’s face fell, “Oh.”

“Hey pretty girl.”

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She shoved her bag in Erik’s hands. “Be right back.”

DeeDee rushed out of the office. Erik watched as she turned the corner and quickly disappeared from his view.

“What happened?” He asked.   

“I don’t know. I heard a lot of noise coming from here. So, I came in to see what was going on.”

“Did I do something? She wouldn’t even look at me when she ran out.”

“No, baby. I don’t think it was you.” She pointed to a chair, “Have a seat and we can wait for her.” 

Erik took a seat on the small brown armchair in front of the desk while Miss Carrie looked around the office. 

“Oh, shoot.” She exclaimed. 

Erik looked over at Miss Carrie, who was staring at an open folder on the desk. She frowned and met his stare.

“Erik, we have a problem.” She lifted the top sheet and handed the slightly crumpled page to him. “She knows.”

“Fuck,” he shouted and then lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, Miss Carrie.”

She waved away his apology “As much as I wanted you to keep this a secret. I guess it’s time for you to tell her.”

“I was really hoping I would never have to explain this, honestly.” He stood up. 

“You and me both. She doesn’t do well with deceit.” Miss Carrie sat down at the desk. “Sure, she’ll understand why you helped. But that’s not gonna matter.”

“I’ll try to fix this tonight.” Erik took Miss Carrie’s hand, “Hopefully, she’ll talk to me because she definitely did not look happy to see me standing there.”

“I know you will.” She squeezed his hand, “Don’t let her show up to my party mad at the world.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Erik stood up and walked out. 

He walked to the front of the restaurant in search of DeeDee and found her outside waiting by the car. 

“DeeDee.” He called out to her. 

She stared at him as he came around to her side and unlocked the door. Then she hopped in and reached out for the door handle. Erik stood in front of the open door, blocking her.

“DeeDee say something, please.”

“Move Erik.” 

She reached out again, and he grabbed her hand. 

“I know what you saw. So talk to me.” He rubbed her hand, “What are you thinking?”

“Why? It’s not gonna change anything?” DeeDee said and pulled her hand away. “I’m ready to go back to the hotel, please.” 

“DeeDee.” 

“I’m ready to go, Erik.”

He moved away from the door and stepped out of the way as DeeDee slammed it shut. 

“It’s gonna be a long night.” He got in the car and drove off.

---

Erik watched as DeeDee walked to the bed. 

She was quiet on the ride back to the hotel. She didn’t talk as they ate dinner at the restaurant. And DeeDee made herself scarce by staying in the bathroom most of the night. He sat on the chair in the corner of the room. 

“DeeDee, please.”

“Please what? I have nothing to say to you right now.” She punched the pillow and pulled back the covers.

Erik sighed, “DeeDee, you know we have to talk about this. And I would prefer now rather than later.”

“Later, much later.” She mumbled into the pillow as she turned her back to him. “Good night, Erik.” She turned off the light on her side of the bed. 

Erik sat there for a moment with his phone in hand and pressed send. 

Erik: Can you and Serena meet me for lunch tomorrow? At Miss Carrie’s place. 

Quis: Yeah, we can be there. It’ll be nice to see DeeDee before the party.

Erik: She’s not coming.

Quis: You good?

Erik: I’ll explain everything when I see you.

Quis: Alright, man. I’ll see you at 1 after my class. 

Erik: Kool. Night Quis. 

Quis: Night E.

He got up and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Erik looked over at DeeDee as she faked sleep. 

“I love you, pretty girl.”

---

DeeDee woke up the next morning and sat up in the bed. She looked over and saw that Erik’s side was made up. He was already gone. She sighed and climbed out of bed to get ready for the day. 

DeeDee looked at her phone as the call connected. 

“DeeDee, Mama told me you and Erik were here. How are ya?”

“Ma, are you free today?” she muttered.

“Dee, is everything ok?”

“I need to talk to you. It’s important.” DeeDee’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, come by the house. I’ll be here.”

20 minutes later, DeeDee arrived at her mother’s house. 

“Hey babygirl.” Gloria pulled her into a hug and DeeDee burst into tears, “What’s wrong?”

“‘He lied to me. They both did.”

“Who lied to you? And why does it have you so upset?”

Gloria held DeeDee’s hand and led her into the house. 

“Go sit down and start from the beginning.” 

They walked over to the couches in the living room. Gloria sat across from DeeDee. 

“Erik and Mama lied to me. Well, Erik lied but Mama kept the truth from me and I’m mad at the both of them.”

DeeDee explained how she found the ownership paperwork while helping Miss Carrie. 

“That was Mama’s choice not to tell anyone about how she got out of trouble.” Gloria said.

“Wait! Everyone knew the restaurant was in trouble? See this is what I mean. Why couldn’t she tell me about that, too?”

“DeeDee, your great-grandmother is just like you. Do you think she wanted anyone to know that she was having issues keeping the family business afloat?”

DeeDee shook her head.

“Right. And no. We knew nothing until we noticed she was slowly putting the place back together after the fire.”

“HA, the fire. I asked her if she needed me to come back and help her again after the fire and she said no.”

“DeeDee, you’d just started your research. Mama was not gonna let her issues hinder anything you were working on. You are the biggest worrier we know. Taking on the entire world’s problems like they are yours.”

“Ma-” 

“Tell me, you wouldn’t have placed your doctorate on hold for Mama?”

DeeDee hesitantly met her mother’s eyes, “I- I can’t.”

“Exactly. Now, what does this have to do with Erik?” 

“He’s the other owner.”

“Wait a minute, you mean to tell me that your young man is the one who helped keep The Juke Joint open?”

“Yeah, he’s a-” DeeDee sighed, “His family has money, so it makes sense that he could help Mama.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“He didn’t tell me about it.” Gloria gave DeeDee a blank stare. “Mom, we are supposed to be getting married and he can’t even tell me that he’s co-owner of my great-grandmother’s restaurant?”

Gloria looked at her daughter and shifted over to the same couch as her. “DeeDee, have you and Erik ever had a fight?”

“Not really. We’ve always talked things out.”

“So, why are you talking to me about how you feel and not Erik?”

“I don’t know what to say to him. I keep thinking if he kept something like this from me, what else would he keep from me.”

Gloria nodded and grabbed DeeDee’s hand, “He is not your father, Deidre.”

“Wh-what?”

“Erik is not your father. You can trust him, Dee.”

“But what if the only reason he is with me is because of Mama.”

“Girl bye.” Gloria sighed, “I’m so sorry, DeeDee. I never thought that my relationship with your father would have such an impact on you.”

“I- I don’t get it.”

“My lovely daughter. I have no idea how you could trust your own feelings for Erik and then not trust him to be completely honest with you.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Really? Because you were floating when he came into town, for you, might I add. And then when those offers from Cali rolled in, you knew exactly where you wanted to go. You wanted to be near and have a relationship with him. Look at what the two of you have built over the last year and some months?”

“Then why am I so mad about it?”

“You don’t do lies, of omission or otherwise. I am sure there is a perfectly good reason that Mama and Erik kept this from you and everyone else. But you also let the fear that he would turn out to be a compulsive liar like your father seep in.”

“Oh.” DeeDee breathed out. 

“Have you spoken to him about this at all?”

DeeDee shook her head, “No, every time he tries I shut him down.”

“Don’t make him pay for something that you won’t let him explain.” Gloria squeezed and released her hand. 

DeeDee sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

Gloria stood up and stretched, “Now, you hungry? I got some gumbo on the stove. I just need to make some rice.” 

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Come on, then.”

--- 

Erik showed up at The Juke Joint before Marquis and Serena. When they arrived, he walked over to Miss Carrie and asked her to join them for lunch. She filled a pitcher with sweet tea and handed it to him.

“How did it go last night?” Miss Carrie asked Erik as they made their way to the table.

“She wouldn’t let me explain at all.” 

“What did you do, Erik?” Serena interjected. 

“Now, now. It’s not his fault, suga.”

Serena and Marquis stood to give Miss Carrie hugs. Erik pulled out her chair before they all sat back down.

“Thank you, baby.” She bumped his shoulder, “He was honoring our agreement and keeping his promise to me.”

“What agreement?” Marquis jumped into the conversation.

Miss Carrie nodded at Erik. 

“About the restaurant. Miss Carrie and I are partners.”

“How can that be?” 

“Since when?”

Serena and Marquis spoke over one another.

“A few years back, I was having a lot of trouble keeping things together here. Business was steady, but not enough for when I needed to repair the kitchen after that grease fire. I was barely breaking even and didn’t have enough to cover all the costs. I couldn’t take out a second on the property because of the original deal.” Miss Carrie picked up glasses and poured everyone some tea. “So, I called in a favor. Erik said if I ever needed his help to give him a call.”

“But he would have given that to you freely. No questions asked.” Serena said. 

“You are right about that. And if I still had DeeDee around, it would have turned out differently. But I wanted her to focus on school and getting out of here like she always wanted.” Miss Carrie sipped her tea.

“Silent partner?” Marquis spoke up. 

Erik nodded, “I wanted to make sure that Miss Carrie never ran into any issues ever again. After speaking with my lawyer, he said that the best way besides just giving her the money was to build an agreement with her.”

“Erik quietly flew out here to meet with me and we set up our partnership. I run the business and Erik financially backs everything. To everyone else, it appears as it always has. Miss Carrie’s place - The Juke Joint with one owner.”

“So, what happened and why is DeeDee mad?” 

“Yesterday, she found out.” Erik mumbled. 

“DeeDee didn’t know?” Serena shook her head.

“No one knew besides the two of us.”

“It was the only way she would accept long-term help from me. No one was supposed to know, not even my wife if I ever got married,” Erik shrugged.

“But you have a fiancée and she -”

“Is my great-granddaughter, yes. So, now you see the issue.” Miss Carrie took another drink from her glass. “She’s mad at the both of us, but she is taking it out on Erik.”

“And when she’s mad, there is no talking to her, which I was not aware of.” Erik sighed, “I don’t know how to fix this, especially if she won’t let me explain.”

Serena looked at Marquis and they both laughed. 

“Finally, some flaws. Thank you, Jesus.” 

“You love to see it.”

Miss Carrie smacked their hands, “You two stop that. The boy don’t know it yet.”

“Uh, what don’t I know?” Erik asked, confused.

“I bet she was quiet all night.”

“Stayed in any room that you weren’t in.” 

“Probably scooted to the edge of the bed as far away from him as she could.” Miss Carrie added. 

“Miss Carrie, we’ve never had a fight.” Erik whined.

“WE KNOW.” Everyone responded. 

“And it shows. Oooh boy, does it show.”

Erik rolled his eyes at Serena’s comment. “I need to get her to speak to me. I just need her to understand.”

“Good luck with that.” Marquis mumbled.

“Just accept that you are going to a party with a madwoman.” Serena said.

“I can’t. Not when that madwoman is also mad at the birthday girl.”

Miss Carrie pinched Erik’s cheek, “He called me a girl, so sweet. It’s ok, baby.” She tapped his arm, “As long as you can still get her to come tonight, it’ll be alright.”

Serena touched her arm. “Everything will be fine, Miss Carrie.” 

---

Erik was sitting in the living room area. DeeDee was in the bedroom, still getting dressed. 

“DeeDee. The party starts in 20 minutes. Are you ready to go yet?”

“Yeah.”

He stood up and walked to the doorway. DeeDee was in front of the full-length mirror. She smoothed out her dress, checked her gloss, and grabbed her clutch. 

“Don’t forget Mama’s present.” She said as she walked past him to the front door. 

“I got it.” He followed her as she walked out of the room.

He picked up the present and locked the door behind him. Shaking his head, Erik knew not to expect her to be waiting for him at the elevator. DeeDee would be at the car on the passenger side. 

Erik clicked the unlock button as he entered the 2nd story garage. He heard a door open and close. She let herself into the car. 

He put the present in the back seat and got into the car. He turned to face her. 

“DeeDee.” He waited until she turned to face him, “I know you are mad at me. But we need to talk about this.”

“Can this wait?” She looked at him, “Not tonight.”

“Then when? Because I was hoping we could have this resolved before the party.”

“We are good right now. So, just drop it.”

“But you won’t talk to me. How are we good?” He asked her.

“Erik, please let it go.” 

“We can’t go home like this. You know that, right?”

“Just drive, Erik.” DeeDee turned forward, “We’re already gonna be late for her party.”

---

Music was blasting from outside the house. They could hear it as they drove by. Erik parked in a spot further down the block. He locked the doors before DeeDee could jump out.

“Really?”

“Can we at least act like we’re happily together?” He reached behind him and handed her the gift. 

“We’re fine, Erik.” She unlocked the door and hopped out. DeeDee walked in the center of the road back to Miss Carrie’s.

Erik jumped out of the car, hit the alarm, and ran to catch up with her. He pulled up in front of her and stopped.

“You know this is the most words you have spoken to me in the last 24 hours?” 

DeeDee tried to move around him, “I know. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“And why can’t we talk about it?” Erik moved again, blocking her path. 

“Erik.”

Erik folded his arms over his chest. “Why can’t you talk to me?”

DeeDee looked at him, then down at the present in her hands. “I don’t trust you.”

Erik shook his head, “I don’t -”

“There you guys are.” 

“Miss Carrie has been looking for the two of you.”

Erik turned around while DeeDee looked up to face the voices. Marquis and Serena walked up to them. 

“Come along, you two. The birthday girl is ready for cake and presents.”

Serena grabbed the present from DeeDee and pushed her into Erik. Marquis flanked Erik’s other side and nudged him into DeeDee. 

The group walked to Miss Carrie’s house together. Serena led them to the side of the house into the backyard where all the action was happening. 

Erik reached for DeeDee’s hand and she pulled it away. She followed closely behind Serena and never looked back. 

Marquis clapped Erik on the back, “Let’s go get a drink.”

Erik watched as she greeted everyone before walking in the house. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Has it gotten any better?” Marquis led them to the outdoor bar along the back wall. 

“Nope. In fact, it may have gotten worse.”

“Worse. How is that possible?” Marquis grabbed two tumblers and filled them with whiskey.

“She told me she doesn’t trust me.”

“I’m sorry, man,” Marquis handed Erik a glass. 

“First, she won’t talk to me,” Erik knocked the drink back and refilled it. “And now, she doesn’t trust me,” he knocked back the second drink, “I don’t know what the hell’s going on.” Erik refilled his drink again and downed it.

“Okay, that’s enough for you.” Marquis took Erik’s glass away. “Don’t need you drinking your feelings.”

“One secret, Quis.” Erik lifted up his index finger, “One. I have never lied about anything else or kept anything from her. Hell, I told her I’m a fucking prince, and she didn’t flinch. But this is the breaking point?”

“Erik, lower your voice, man. People are starting to stare.” Marquis looked behind Erik and waved.

“You’re right. It’s not about me. It’s about Miss Carrie.” Erik rubbed his temples, “Is there a water cooler around here?”

“Yeah, we passed it on the way back here.” 

---

Serena and DeeDee walked over to the gift table. 

“How long have you guys been here?” DeeDee asked. 

“We got here about an hour ago.”

“Early birds. Should have been us.” DeeDee looked over at the bar where Erik and Marquis were standing. 

“So, how are things with you two?” Serena grabbed DeeDee’s hand and inspected the ring, “This is some beautiful craftsmanship.”

DeeDee pulled back her hand, “We’re good.”

“That’s not what it looked like when we found you.”

“We are fine, Serena,” DeeDee gritted out. “So, drop it okay.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” Serena pointed next to DeeDee, “Erik’s always at your side.”

DeeDee stared at the space next to her then back at Serena, “Reena.”

“Don’t Reena me.” Serena glared at DeeDee, “Sweetie, what is going on?”

“He lied, okay. Erik lied to me.” DeeDee bit out. 

“Okay and have you talked to him about it?”

“No.” DeeDee deflated, “I mean I can barely look at him, Serena.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, it just makes me mad and sad all over again.” DeeDee’s voice cracked, “He didn’t trust me enough to tell me and that hurts Reena.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“That I don’t trust him? Right, before you two came up to us.”

“DeeDee. You know that’s not true.” She shrugged at Serena, “Wow. That’s how you really feel?”

“I don’t even know. Mom told me some stuff today and I just- I can’t bring myself to talk to him about everything yet.

“But if you won’t hear him out, then how can it be resolved?”

“Whose side are you on, Serena?”

“The side that wants to see a summer wedding next year.”

DeeDee rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna go inside. I’ll see you around.”

“Don’t make me come find you, DeeDee.”

She waved off Serena’s comment and went to the backdoor of the kitchen. DeeDee walked inside, saw a pile of dishes near the sink, and started to wash them.

“So, this is what we are doing now?” DeeDee looked up to see Miss Carrie. “Hiding out in the kitchen?”

“Hi Mama.” DeeDee dried off her hands and pulled her great-grandmother into a hug, “Happy Birthday Pretty Lady.”

“Thank you, baby.” Miss Carrie pulled away, “Now, where is that handsome fiancé of yours?”

“Somewhere. I don’t know or care.” DeeDee nonchalantly replied.

“Deidre Marie Chabert! What is wrong with you?” Miss Carrie looked at DeeDee and groaned. 

“ME? Shouldn’t I be asking you two that?” DeeDee yelled.

“Little girl, who do you think you are talking to?” Miss Carrie snapped back, “I know you are mad at us, but you will respect me in my own damn house!” 

DeeDee turned around and focused on the dishes. 

“You got some nerve.” She spun DeeDee back around, “Why are you so angry, child?”

“Mama, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That The Juke Joint was in trouble.” DeeDee pulled on the edges of the dishrag.

Miss Carrie waved her off, “If that’s why you mad, then get in line.” 

“Mama, I’m serious.”

“And so am I.” Miss Carrie took the dishrag out of DeeDee’s hands, “You aren’t the only one who is upset that I didn’t tell anyone when I was in financial trouble. Hell, ya mama just stopped asking me who gave me the money like six months ago.”

DeeDee looked over at Miss Carrie, “But you pushed me away, Mama.”

“The Juke Joint has always been my responsibility, not yours DeeDee. I wanted you to earn your degree without worrying about me or this ole place.” Miss Carrie leaned against the counter, “I knew Erik would help, but I never imagined he would be there for me and our family like that. So, if you want someone to be mad at, then it should be me and not him.”

“But he lied to me.” DeeDee mumbled.

Miss Carrie walked to the door and yelled through the screen, “Erik, bring your ass in here.” 

“Mama, are you ok?” A voice called out. 

“I’m good, suga. I just need to speak with these two. Keep everyone outside.” 

She opened the door for Erik, who slowly walked up the steps. 

“Is everything ok, Miss Carrie?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Could be better. How is she treating you, baby?” 

“How am I treating him? He’s the one who lied to me.” 

“For me, Deidre.” Miss Carrie rolled her eyes at DeeDee, then turned to Erik. “I’m so sorry, Erik. If I thought for one second -”

“There the two of you go. I’m right here. What about me?” DeeDee whined.

“What do you want me to say, DeeDee? I have spent the last two days trying to talk to you and you shut me out.” He walked towards her, “I have nothing to say to you. We have nothing to talk about. We’ll talk about this much later.” Erik mocked DeeDee. He stopped a few feet away from her, “Oh, and my new personal fave - I don’t trust you.”  

DeeDee crossed her arms over her chest. Miss Carrie stood back and shook her head.

“Is there anything else you need to say to me? Please let me know if anything else I have done has changed the way you feel about me.” His voice rose.

“Erik, I-”

He clasped his hands in front of him and waited for her to continue.

“I didn’t mean that.” She watched him roll his eyes at her, “Okay, fine. I meant it.” DeeDee rubbed her temples. “Why did you lie to me?”

“Did I lie? No. Did I keep something important from you? Yes.”

“Why? I thought we could tell each other everything. And as many times as we have talked about Mama and The Juke Joint, this should have come up.”

“It wasn’t my business to tell. And don’t you think if I could I would have?”

“What was stopping you from being honest about owning my great-grandmother’s restaurant? Tell me why you couldn’t say that part.”

“First of all, Miss Carrie is still the owner. I am only a financial resource and that was all it was ever meant to be.” 

Erik looked over at Miss Carrie, who nodded at him. 

He continued, “She only agreed to let me help her and with those terms if I never told anyone. We added it to the contract, and I never thought about it or what it meant again.” 

Erik took a few steps forward and grabbed DeeDee’s hands. He stared at the ring on her finger and grazed his thumb over it. 

“And then I met you.” He sandwiched her hands between his, “The love of my life. My heart and soul. The person I knew I would share my life with and have the kind of forever love I desired.” Erik entwined their hands together.

“When she told me you were her great-granddaughter, I couldn’t believe it. Even though I told you how special this place was to me.” He looked back at Miss Carrie, “I couldn’t break her trust or our agreement without talking to her about it first. But we spent so much time together that week I spent here, I never got the chance.”

“What about when I came to Oakland for New Year’s?” DeeDee spoke softly.  

“I was so excited to see you again so soon. I figured it would’ve been months before I got the chance. And then when you shared your news with me -- told me that you were moving to Cali and wanted to give us a chance.” He chucked her under the chin to make her look at him, “I know it’s no excuse, but I honestly forgot about it.” 

“How do you forget something like that?” She asked him. 

“Have you seen you?” Erik smiled at her. 

DeeDee laughed. “I’m serious.”

“And so am I. Do you remember when I finally came clean about thinking I didn’t deserve a love like my parents had?” Erik swung their hands together and his voice softened. 

She nodded at him. 

“I wanted to make sure that you knew that you did not make a mistake by giving us a chance and trusting me with your heart. So, I focused on building our relationship and truly forgot until a few weeks ago.”

“What do you mean a few weeks ago?” DeeDee looked at him. 

Erik shrugged, “This was supposed to be her announcement to make.”

“Whose?” She followed his line-of-sight back to her great-grandmother.

“We dissolved the partnership, DeeDee.” Miss Carrie said. 

“Wait. What? Why? What’s going on?” DeeDee pulled away from Erik and walked over to Miss Carrie.

“Calm down, child. It’s nothing you did.” She winked at Erik, “Ok, that’s not true. You are the reason for the change, but it’s not a bad thing. I promise.” 

DeeDee gave her a hug, “So, then what is it?”

“I’m giving up my ownership, DeeDee.” Erik said.

“Don’t do that. You don’t need to do that for me. I’ll get over this.”

Erik walked over to DeeDee and Miss Carrie. He took each of their hands. 

“I just felt that The Juke Joint should go back to being family owned.” He squeezed DeeDee’s hand, “I’m relinquishing my ownership to you, baby.”

“You’re the only one who has ever loved this place more than me. Even more than Erik.” Miss Carrie interjected.

“I never meant to keep this from you or hurt you in the process. You were only supposed to accept when Miss Carrie offered you co-ownership and then I could share my part.” Erik spoke.

“I can’t just become an owner of the restaurant. My life is in Cali with Erik.” DeeDee looked at Erik and her great-grandmother, “Mama is something wrong?”

“Erik, talk this girl off the ledge, please. I have guests to entertain.” Miss Carrie tapped his arm and hugged DeeDee, “Let him finish explaining everything.” She whispered to her.

Erik led DeeDee to the kitchen island and pulled out a stool for her. 

“You want some water or something?” 

“No, I’m fine. I just want someone to tell me what is going on.” DeeDee rushed out.

“DeeDee, nothing about the arrangement changes. You will be Miss Carrie’s financier while she continues to run the day-to-day as she always has.”

“With what money, Erik? I am still paying off grad school loans.”

“You wouldn’t be if you would let me help you. But I don’t want to start another argument.” He grabbed her hands, “DeeDee, you will be my wife. You will have access to everything I have. Which will allow you to do exactly what I have done for the past 7 years; wait until Miss Carrie calls with a need or concern.”

DeeDee looked up at him, “You mean I’ll be a silent partner like you.”

Erik laughed, “No, absolutely not. Miss Carrie wants everyone to know that you are the other owner of the restaurant. The Juke Joint is a family run operation.”

“But you will be family, too. Why give all that up for me?”

“Because then I would have to continue to keep this from you. It wasn’t worth that for me.” He pulled her up from the stool. “I didn’t want this to ever become an issue. But we never thought you would find the paperwork either. She had it out for me to come by and pick it up. I was dropping off the new agreement that you would sign.”

“Oh.” DeeDee looked down.

“DeeDee, I love you.” Erik wrapped her in his arms. “What did I tell you before I left Baton Rouge?” 

“That you found me and you weren’t letting me go.”

“And I mean that shit.” DeeDee giggled into his chest, “So, do you forgive us for keeping this secret? She thought this would be the best time to do it with all your friends and family around for her birthday. A dual celebration in her honor.”

“Uh huh, I forgive you.” She leaned up to peck his lips. “But that old woman has got it coming.” DeeDee wiggled in his arms.

“You better leave Miss Carrie alone.”  

 “Let me go.” She turned around and tried to pull his arms away from her. 

“Woman, what did we just say? You ain’t going nowhere.” He tightened his grip on her, “You’re mine now.” He whispered in her ear. 

“Ewwwww.”

“Get a room.”

DeeDee and Erik look up to see Serena and Marquis standing there with looks of disgust on their faces. 

“Oh, you two can go to hell.” Erik barked at them.

“What did we do?” Serena asked. 

“Nothing. Absolutely, nothing.” Erik said. 

“I gave you water. An irresponsible friend would have let you keep drinking.”

Erik shook his head. “I had it under control.”

“No, you did not. You were going to drink away your pain.” Marquis explained. 

“Pain? What pain?” DeeDee froze, “OMG. My trust comment.” She turned around to face Erik. “Baby, I am so sorry. I really didn’t mean to say that. I was projecting my feelings about my father to you. And you don’t deserve that.” She reached up on her tippy toes and kissed him, “I am happiest when I am with you. I do trust you and I can’t wait to become your wife.”

“Say it again.” Erik said. 

“I love you and I can’t wait to become your wife.” Erik lifted DeeDee up and spun her around as she squealed.    

“Glad to see y’all are all happy again.” 

Everyone turned toward the new voice. Miss Carrie walked back in with a knife in her hand. 

“Now, let’s go have some cake and enjoy the rest of my birthday party.”

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama @killmonger-fics @beautifullmelodyxx @raysunshine78 @fd-writes @ljstraightnochaser @just-peachee @kaleidoscopeofsoul @sincerelykas

[indianamoonshine]

Strawberry | Chapter 12 | Flames

Summary: Will joins the family dinner. The night can hide many things.

Rating: (+18) for…situations.

A/N: I'm SO SORRY for the long hiatus. Please accept this peace offering (jealous!Din) as a token of my gratitude.

TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople

The symposium of a midwestern dinner sounds a lot like Bach's work.

Difficult notes with high to reach places and then very low caverns just a moment later. The cicadas in the background are a nice touch; it's something Tchaikovsky might have wished he could capture. Silverware - old enough to be considered vintage now - clank against the porcelain dinner plates. Charlotte lets out her fae-like laughter and Rhea listens intently, eyes gazing dreamily upon Tommy as he carries on conversation. The house is full tonight.

You suppose it was out of the kindness of your father's heart to invite Will to this dinner. Everyone within a two mile radius usually came to these spur-of-the-moment things. Will was an old family friend and his father supplied yours with fresh goat's milk and chicken eggs, so it wasn't all that strange he came along. Still, it made the meal a bit more difficult to swallow. Quite literally.

Din is sitting directly across from you. You think it might have been intentional because Will chose to plop his happy ass right beside you, grinning that lopsided smile and charming his way out of the discomfort with a joke. You play the part by laughing when he tries to outwit everyone in the room or by asking him how the farm manages these days. Will isn't a cocky person by nature, but something about the rigidness of his composure when Din asks for the green beans makes you all too suspicious.

It doesn't make any sense. Will broke things off with you. If he were to be jealous, it wouldn't be for anything but pride and show. A year ago it would've bothered you that Will was cajoling the room for the sake of his vanity, but now it was just embarrassing for everyone involved.

"Din, do you remember the summer of '90?" your father asks across the table, clearly involved in another conversation that pertains to this anecdote.

The man across you hums and shakes his head with a reluctant grin. "I try not to," he fibs, cutting at his steak.

Your father chuckles. "I was nineteen and Din was..." he pauses. "Jeez, Din. How old were ya?"

"Seventeen."

"Ah, right! Rhea hadn't been born yet but Scarlett was pregnant with her by the end of the summer. That was our last free year, wasn't it? Well, mine anyway." You dad points his fork in Rhea's direction, a bit of steak dangling from its end. "And then you came along."

Rhea scoffs. "Well, geez. My bad for existing."

There's no darkness in either of their words so the exchange makes everyone at the table chuckle in good humor. Your father and Din go back and forth about the irresponsible and, well, illegal things that had been done that summer. Underage drinking. Trespassing. And somehow Din always got away with it.

"He never got us caught. Ever. I still don't know how you did it." Your father says to his friend, eyes wrinkling with a genuine smile. "Damn good thing too considering how much pot we smoked. It's a good thing my girls didn't get that rebellious streak."

A witty response is formed upon your lips but only until Will cuts you off.

"I don't know about that," he pipes in.

You're taken aback, quite literally tossing your head to gauge his interjection. "What?"

An indifferent silence hushes the dinner party. Your sisters chew their food carefully, eyes glued upon the scene before them like it was one of their soap operas. Your father awaits an explanation with a rather scandalized look upon his face, but Will's father - Clarence - doesn't seem at all fazed by any probability of illegal activity.

Will rolls his chin to serve you an exasperated look. "Oh, come on. We're adults now; we can come clean." He drenches his steak in more A1 sauce before revealing: "Your daughter was the one to egg the sheriff's house."

The entire room initially goes as silent as a graveyard before everyone chokes on a snort and begins to roar with laughter. Clarence slaps your father on the back as the two of them snicker like a pair of hyenas.

"Will!" you growl. "You said you'd take that to your deathbed!"

The pain in the ass beside you howls with laughter, holding his stomach, and having to pause from drinking his beer. "Daffi, it's fine. They can't do anything about it now."

"That's not the point!" you scowl.

Din is grinning from ear to ear, obviously amused by your humiliation. It was a childish thing to do but the sheriff was a dick in the worst way and you wanted him to know it. That was a hot summer - record breaking, actually - and by the time he'd woken, the egg had dried upon his lawn and across the face of his home. Ole' Sheriff Winslow scoured the town for weeks before finally abandoning his quest altogether.

"You got something to say, Mister Djarin?" you inquire playfully, scolding him with a fire in your eyes.

Din clears his throat and furrows his brows. "No, no. I wouldn't dare."

The two of you exchange a glance that was far too intimate for this dining room. His eyes softened upon meeting yours and his smirk was silly, drunk on something other than the beer in his hand. If it weren't for dear Will's additional reminiscence, you might've fallen under the spell lingering in the space between you.

"Yeah, that was a great summer. We had our first kiss that year, remember?"

You blink, all thoughts of Din's mouth upon yours fizzling away like steam. Instead, it is replaced with the frayed-edged memory of Will's rusted pick-up parked in the darkest corner of the local McDonalds. It was hardly a first kiss worth mentioning if it hadn't been for how good he was at it and how bad you were. Still: what the fuck?

You wanted to say just that but refrained from doing so. Instead you say, "Lots of awkward fumbling if I recall." It comes out sharp - petty. If he wanted to behave like a child, you could do it too.

Din's trying so desperately hard not to glare at Will. You can see it in the deliberate chug of his beer.

-

“What. The. Hell.”

“I know.”

“Wait,” Charlotte holds up a hand, expression dumbstruck. “I’m not done.”

You roll your eyes and scrub at a particularly stubborn dish, waiting for her dramatics to be over.

“…was that?” she finishes.

Rather anti-climactic.

“It’s Will,” you tell her, voice bored but teetering on the edge of fury. “It’s fucking Will. What do you expect?”

Charlotte shakes her head, eyes bulging with disbelief as she blinks over and over again as though trying to compute. She takes a dish from you, sopping wet, and begins to dry it with a rag. You know Charlotte is eager to gossip because she never - never - offers to help clean after supper.

Everyone else is carrying on from the awkward conversation by sitting at the bonfire and making pudgy-pies. It’s the kind of snack one eats when they need to forget about anything other than the impending weight gain. You watch from the window as Rhea slathers Nutella upon a piece of white bread and then some cut strawberries. Honestly, you could really go for one, but the idea of being anywhere near Will makes your skin crawl.

“Did he say anything to you? Before dinner? Or after? Like…why would he say something like that?” Charlotte carefully stacks the delicate plates atop each other. They clank against one another noisily.

Like cymbals within the symphony.

“Nope,” you tell her. “Not a word. I have no idea what’s gotten into him.”

Charlotte goes silent, rubbing at the plates until they’re dry as a bone, and then whispers, “He obviously knows.”

You square your jaw, glancing around to make sure no one is in the vicinity, and then let out a great sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure he does. I was all over Din at the bar.”

Your dear sister brightens at the mention of the night prior. She stops her drying and places her hands upon your shoulders so that you may look her in the eyes. You see mahogany. Deep. Rich. Full of life and excitement. In her eyes, it is proof that she’s a good spirit and in good health. (And…well, maybe a little tipsy, but that’s besides the point.)

“I like him. For you.” Is what she confesses. She places her hands upon your cheeks and squishes them together. You protest, taking her wrists and wrestling her, but giggling all the while. “I mean it. I think he adores you. And so do I.”

You nod in her grasp. “Okay, okay! I know, yes. I know!” you chuckle, breathless from the lack of air supply. She still has you in a chokehold. “Can you please let me go now?!”

Charlotte releases you from her trap and you gasp a throat-full of air, belly aching from laughter. The two of you embrace one another in a hug, attempting to lift the other, and then falling upon the linoleum - sore with serenity.

-

There is something stirring in Din.

It is a fire that has just been fanned from embers he sought to snuff out. But they hadn’t perished, despite how hard he had tried. The coals burned. He burned.

For you.

At the bar, Din ignored Will to the best of his ability; sort of like how one ignores an irritating bumblebee. Leave him be, Din had chanted. He’s harmless. After all, Din had years stacked against Will. How was it possible to be so insecure by this kid?

Because that’s essentially what he is, right? He’s so goddamned young; he looks as though he’s never taken a hit in his life. He’s too pretty, too put together. He’s firm skin and tight abs. And Din, well…

Din was not.

Din was old. He was well past forty years of age now, playing house with a woman over twenty years his senior. No matter how well he managed to keep the façade so believable, it would one day end in disaster - embarrassment. Heartache. And defeat. He can’t bear the thought.

It wasn’t like him. He’s never given a shit about anyone’s perception of him before, nevertheless mulled over the ex of a romantic interest. Not to say that Din’s ever felt the way he did with you; no one has even come close. Xian was his longest “situationship” and when it inevitably burst into flames, he didn’t bat an eye. (He wonders if that makes him a terrible person.) If his toxicity with Xian was worth anything, it was just a testament of his endurance.

But you. The world fucking blurs when you’re near.

So when Will - cocky as Din once was - utters unsolicited bullshit, it takes every ounce of dignity he has left to remain silent.

We had our first kiss that year, remember?

There is a primal urge to reach across the table and wring the smug expression from Will’s face, to grab you with an unfamiliar hunger, carry you across the acre, and toss you onto his bed and just…

No. That was brutish. He wasn’t like that. He couldn’t allow himself to feel possessive over you because you couldn’t be owned. He knew that. But that fire licked at his inner conscious until he had to excuse himself from dinner altogether.

The darkest parts of him pace during the bonfire, though he manages to sit still and interpret Will’s behavior. His youth glows betwixt the crazed flames, an ombré of red and orange dancing across everyone’s skin. Din watches, he listens, he notes every little thing like hunters do. Because for some reason - some ungodly, twisted reason - Din felt as though Will were a bounty now. It’s the only way he could feel superior.

“Daffodil!” Will calls out suddenly. “Get over here!”

The hinges in Din’s jaw pop as he clenches his teeth, grinding them so forcefully he thinks Rhea - who sits beside him - might hear. When you arrive from the house (he guessed you were cleaning up, just as you always do), he notes the skimpy length of your cotton shorts and…

Wait. Is that his shirt?

It is. It’s the very same shirt Din offered you after the rain debacle after the bar. It was one of his favorites despite how plain it was; just a grey t-shirt that fit snugly on him but dwarfed you entirely. It skimmed the top of your knees and pressed against the swell of your chest. That something within him growled once more.

“Come sit,” Will instructs, patting at his lap.

You hesitate. “I…”

Will chuckles, urging you with waggling fingers. “We’ve been like this since we were kids, Daffi. Come on.”

There’s a pathetic attempt to steady himself as Din watches you perch upon Will’s lap.

You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt…

The group chats a while longer, exchanging stories Din’s never heard, but none of it matters. You’re on another man’s lap. And despite Mark’s very obvious presence, he wants so badly to grip your wrist and run.

“I’ve seen you before,” Will says suddenly. He points a finger in Din’s direction, eyes a little hooded from drink. “Weren’t you at the bar a couple of nights ago?”

Those who partook in the rendezvous go silent. Rhea freezes and Charlotte blanches, looking towards their dear sister who’s pale in the face now. Mark, in his sheer oblivion, raises a brow. Din’s been in every intense situation imaginable, but something about now makes his gut churn.

He could loose you. Right now.

He’s about to lie, to make up some bullshit excuse about having ‘one of those faces’, but Rhea pipes in.

Her voice is strong and firm when she says, “What the hell are you talking about? He wasn’t there.”

Effortless. Shoulders sag, the tension subsiding thanks to Rhea’s impeccable skill.

“Strange. Swore I saw you with…” he shakes his head and shrugs. “Never mind.”

An artificial laugh - so sickly sweet that it’s almost impossible to digest - escapes your lips. “You must’ve drank too much. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-

His kiss takes you by surprise.

You’re walking back to the house after the men have soiled the fire and everyone’s said their good nights when he just does it.

It’s covertly enough, but it’s shocking. A massive hand encircles your wrist and pulls you behind the shed out back, pressing you against the mossy wood and stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s the biggest risk the two of you have taken. For God’s sake, your father is just now walking inside the main house and Din’s mouth is attached to the hollow of your neck.

You’re dizzy, gripping his shoulders so tightly that the fabric of his shirt warps beneath your fingers. “Din,” you breathe out. He kisses you speechless again and you break for air. “Din, what’s the matter?”

He curses under his breath. It’s sharp. Fuck. It’s not angry, per say, but it is damaged. You weave your fingers through his hair as he settles his breathing, concentrating on the strings of your shorts that he fiddles with.

“I…” He sighs, pressing his nose against your cheek. His breath is warm and you shiver. “He touched you.”

He sounds ashamed. Embarrassed. You can’t imagine how difficult it must be to vocalize your self-doubt as someone who relishes in secrecy. He had a wall built around him and it was made of iron.

“Not like you,” you whisper shyly.

You had some walls of your own. He was tearing them down like that of Jericho.

There’s softness in the air. The two of you are silent, eyes closed, and mouths inches apart. Exchanging of breath. It’s an ancient form of intimacy.

You trust him. You trust him with your life.

His hand feels natural in your own as you lift it to your breast. The trembling of his fingers is almost endearing; the man was far older than you and he still shook at the mere touch of a woman.

“No one can touch me like you.” Your hands glide south, pressing underneath the fabric covering the raw parts of you, until you stop at the band of your panties. “No one can.”

It’s all he needs to hear.

Soon after, he kisses you fiercely, but not without nodding in agreement. And that very hand, which grazes so deliciously at your belly, finally dips.

Sparks.

[cinebration]

Written in DNA (Booker x Reader) [Epilogue]

You tie up loose ends.

Ahhhh! This epilogue is, like, twice the size of other chapters. I should’ve broken it into two, but I figured you all wanted to get to the end!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue

Tagged: @lucy-sky​, @city-of-weird​, @all-the-right-regrets, @alannister-always-pays-her-debts​, @fleetwoodsmacabitch​

Warnings: violence

Gif Source: captaindelafere

General Howzer looked too thin to be a military man at his age, but what people mistook for smallness was all lean muscle, as tough as a coffin nail. His hair had gone gray despite his age, but it gave him a steeled look that he didn’t mind. It added to the ferocity of his blue eyes.

With Specimen 049 back in the compound, he let himself breathe easy for a moment. Her absence had been a source of great distress for him—a fact his jaw still attested to, aching from all the grinding he had inflicted on it.

But there was still the trouble of how Specimen 049 had escaped.

It kept him up at night. How had she contacted the outside? How had she arranged the help? They had scoured her quarters after the breakout, searching for anything that indicated how she had reached beyond her concrete room. Having found nothing, Howzer had to admit it hadn’t had anything to do with Specimen 049. Someone else had come for her on their own initiative.

Howzer considered shutting down the program. Specimen 049 had been one of a few successful experiments—perhaps the best, because she had never resisted, had never fled.

Until that one day.

She may not have orchestrated the escape, but she had flown the coop all the same when the opportunity arrived. She had obliterated his best team when he sent them after her.

Perhaps the experiments were ultimately a failure. Everything had worked but for the ability to suppress or remove the flight instinct, the need to escape prison. If even Specimen 049, his model subject, had shucked her chains, then there was no hope.

Chaos erupted outside the compound, alarms blaring, but Howzer didn’t question it, too consumed by his problem. Whoever was assaulting the base had no hope of success, besides.

The doorknob of his office turned. He glanced at it in irritation. “Private, I ordered you—”

He froze as you stepped into the room, followed by the man he recognized as your liberator from the week before.

“Specimen oh-four-nine.”

“General Howzer,” you said, your voice crisp, without inflection. “I’m glad you decided to work late tonight.”

You moved forward, crossing the room in three quick strides. Howzer reached for the gun in his desk drawer. Your hand clamped down on his wrist, snapped it. Pain exploded up his arm. The gun clattered to the floor as he hissed, cradling his wrist.

You gestured to the other man. Nodding, he handed you his pistol and circled around the desk, pulling the keyboard of Howzer’s computer toward him.

“What are you doing?” Howzer growled.

He watched in mounting horror as the man located the program files. He went into Specimen 049’s folder, deleted it, and then backed out. He hesitated, then deleted everything related to the program before purging them from the hard drive.

“You can’t just erase everything,” Howzer sneered. “We’ll just recreate it all.”

You shook your head, yanked him to his feet. “We’ll see.” Turning to the other man, you ordered, “Finish here.”

You paused, pulled open another drawer of Howzer’s desk. A bottle of scotch lay at the bottom, a quarter of it gone. Taking it, you pushed Howzer toward the door.

“What happened? You were my best results.”

You remained quiet, shoving him through the door and down the hallway. The chaos of the explosion had drawn everyone to the front of the compound. You led Howzer away to the back, then through a steel door.

The cold night air hit Howzer like knives. He shivered despite himself, the pain in his wrist flaring. Fear pushed at him, but he shoved it down. He was General Benjamin Howzer, and damned would he be if he let some young upstart intimidate him.

“Your car,” you demanded.

He pointed to a brown sedan nestled beside an SUV. Fishing in his pocket for keys, you clicked the button. The car’s lights flashed.

“I expected you to lie.”

“Good. That’s what we trained you to do.”

Howzer was already planning his escape. The car was home turf for him. He knew the way the wheel jerked to the right when he hit pot holes and how quick it would take to slam the seat back against you. He knew the passenger seatbelt was loose and fraying, unreliable.

He would walk away.

You shoved him into the driver’s seat, got into the passenger seat. Howzer settled in behind the wheel, trying to anticipate your moves.

You handed him the liquor bottle. “Drink.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me make you.”

He stared you down. “Make me.”

Starbursts exploded in his vision as you seized his face, jamming the bottle against his lips. He felt a tooth crack, blood mingling with the burning scotch. He choked, unable to swallow so much so fast, but you were forcing the bottle further past his lips, down into the back of his throat.

Then it was gone. He gasped, lungs and throat burning, lips pouring blood. “You fucking bitch!”

“I am what you made me. Now drive.”

Fear tried again, more successful this time in making him afraid. “Where?”

You gestured to the street leading to the highway.

There was still an opportunity to escape. Howzer tried to formulate it in his mind as he started the sedan and worked his way to the freeway. He slowly put on his seatbelt.

You didn’t do the same.

Even better, he thought.

Howzer’s foot pressed down on the gas, pushing the speedometer past eighty, then ninety. You watched dispassionately.

Fear wrapped around his guts.

“When this is over, I’m going to get your boyfriend, too,” he snarled. “You’ve damned him in all of this.”

He eyed the crop of woods looming up ahead alongside the highway.

“You won’t get the chance.”

Howzer’s seatbelt suddenly went slack. He glanced down, saw your hand retreat from the release button.

He had planned to swerve into a tree, but seeing the seatbelt made him hesitate. He shot a glance at you.

“Nice try,” you whispered, and yanked the steering wheel beneath his hands.

~~

Booker drove the car down the long stretch of road, searching for you. He found the wreckage of Howzer’s sedan, the crumpled body of Howzer himself wrapped around the tree.

No sign of you.

Trying not to worry—had someone else grabbed you first?—Booker drove further down, searching the woods.

At last, he glimpsed something gray in the distance. As he drew near, it resolved into you, wandering slowly down the asphalt. He pulled to a stop beside you.

You slipped into the passenger seat. A dark bruise was forming on your arms and forehead. Booker gestured to them. You frowned in confusion. He reached over and gently brushed the back of a finger across your arm. It sent a prickle up his hand.

“Dashboard,” you murmured, watching his finger.

Pulling away slowly, Booker refocused on the road. An SUV was approaching from the opposite direction. The headlights flashed.

“They came to help?”

The surprise in your voice matched Booker’s own. “Yes.”

“See? Family comes through.”

Chest constricting, Booker rolled to a stop beside the SUV. Andy stuck her head out of the driver’s window. “Everything good?”

Booker gave her a thumbs up. He could see the others crowding at the windows, peering at him and at you through the windshield.

“There’s a place not far from here,” Andy continued. “To crash for the night.”

Booker shifted uncomfortably and glanced at you. “Whatever you want,” you told him.

“Okay,” he answered Andy.

He followed the immortals to the safe house. The car ride passed in silence, you staring out the window. He wanted to say something but couldn’t think of anything. He felt uncomfortable, hyperaware of your presence—the way you were breathing, your reflection in the window.

At last, he asked, “Why did Howzer call you Specimen oh-four-nine?”

“That was my number.”

He recalled you telling him to call you “Spec” if he wanted a name back when he first met. Clearing his throat, he said, “My real name is Sebastien.”

He felt your eyes on him before you quietly gave him yours. He repeated it over and over in his mind, guarding it like some precious piece of you.

Pulling up to the safe house, Booker was surprised to discover it was actually a two-storey house. There were enough rooms for everyone to sleep on their own.

You trudged up the stairs and into the bathroom, the shower turning on moments later. Booker and the others stayed downstairs, infected by your silence.

Andy offered Booker a bottle. He reached for it, hesitated, shook his head. Arching an eyebrow, she pulled from it herself.

Booker kept an ear toward the shower, listening to the shower splash differently as you moved. The others watched him, exchanging glances with each other.

Nile broke the silence. “Will she be okay?”

Booker frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t have a mission. Isn’t that what she was trained to do? Always follow a mission? I mean, she was doing that when she brought you to Quynh, wasn’t she?”

The shower turned off. Booker heard you cross softly across the floor.

“She’s free,” he murmured, “and she’s strong.”

“What about you?”

The question shook him. What about him? He hadn’t thought about it since he returned to the States to break you out.

Overhead, he heard a door shut quietly, a mattress squeak.

“I’m going to help her, if she’ll have me,” he answered.

~~

Despite his exhaustion, Booker didn’t sleep that night. He rose early and made breakfast for everyone, including himself, after venturing into town to buy groceries.

You were the first to descend the stairs. Sunlight had yet to dispel the early morning darkness. Booker snapped to attention as you approached him. You looked rested, perhaps more so than he had ever seen you. Something about the softness of lingering sleep on your face made Booker’s heart trip.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you answered. Sitting at the table, you dug gratefully into the plate of food: eggs, oatmeal, bacon, toast. Booker had given you a triple portion, remembering the last time you had scarfed food down.

“I was thinking,” you began, then hesitated. Jabbing at the bacon with your fork, you asked, “Did you do the other thing I asked you to?”

Booker nodded and fished the flash drive out of his pocket. He had palmed it into a USB port on Howzer’s computer, pretending to delete the files when instead he had transferred them over. You took it from him with a delicate touch, as though afraid to break it.

“Do you think there are any left?”

Booker’s chest ached at the sound of your voice cracking. “I saw a lot of names.”

“But are they alive? No, don’t tell me. I’ll find out.” You pocketed the flash drive and resumed eating. “So, what’s the deal with you and the others?”

“I still have ninety-nine years.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry. What will you do?”

He sat down across from you, not quite meeting your gaze. “I was hoping…you wouldn’t mind having me around.”

The fork paused halfway to your mouth. You gaped at him, jaw slack. He would have laughed if not for his anxiety over your answer.

Lowering the fork, you cleared your throat. “No…”

Booker felt like bricks had hit him over the head. He glanced away, stared down at his hands. What had he expected? That you might think of him as more than anything than the guy who had been part of a mission?

“I wouldn’t mind.”

He jerked his head back up. You met his gaze levelly, a tentative smile on your lips. Relief coursed through him, better than anything he could think of. Raking a hand over the back of his neck, he struggled to fight the grin pulling at his mouth.

“If I catch you drinking, I will shank you with the bottle,” you told him.

“I believe you.”

“Good. Now, where do you think we should start?”

“Here,” he answered, and he leaned forward to kiss you.

[grace-likes-things]

Beside Her

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

A/N: uhh it’s been a while. Here’s this! And here’s to me posting a random one-shot every two years lmaoooooo. Disclaimer: alternate reality where no one died/left after endgame.

Summary: A mission Peter’s off the job for, and which goes terribly wrong.

Warnings: blood, major character death, this one is v angsty folks.

Word Count: almost 6k 

~~~~~~~

“So, am I alright to go with?”

“No way, Peter. Your sling may be off but your arm can't handle the kind of wear you put it through yet. Give it another day or so.”

Peter sighs, exasperated, “But the mission’s tonight!”

“Nuh, uh, Pete,” my dad cuts in across the room, “You’re staying here, doctor’s orders. I told you we’d check, and we did, and Helen says no.”

“Mr. Stark—!”

“Not me, Helen, you really gonna combat her decision?”

Dr. Cho gives Peter a stern look, having had experience with his impulsively-gained-injuries before. He turns away, ducking his eyes, knowing not to challenge her. 

“Peter it’s fine,” I say, hand on his good shoulder, “You’ll join us on the next one.”

“If—“ my dad buts in, “he doesn't go shatter half the bones in his arm again. And don't go assuming you’ll be on the next one, Y/N, I'm hardly supportive of you coming with tonight as it is.”

I sigh, turning stubbornly towards him as he waltzes out of the room, “I've been training for over 3 years, dad I—“ 

“Nope. Still my kid, don't push your luck. We’re t-minus 1 hour out, so go get ready,” and with that, he turns the corner and leaves. 

“Sorry Pete, better luck next time.” Helen picks up her clipboard and departs, leaving us alone in the room.

I turn to Peter, who’s looking rather defeated about the fact that he won't be allowed on the first mission in three months. I nudge his shoulder playfully, “Hey, think on the bright side, now you get to snoop around the lab uninterrupted for a couple hours.”

He gives me a halfhearted smile, “Yeah? I still wish I could be out there with you.”

His eyes change into an anxious look. I look at him, sympathetic, and grab his hand in mine. 

Since the snap, the fight with Thanos, and almost losing my dad, Peter’s had this protective, premature-guilt complex concerning the people close to him. We got lucky not losing anyone, but I think seeing my dad recover from mourning us and the near-death experience I had in the battle, he’s not really comfortable being separated from us in a fight.

“I know. But it’s relatively minor, from what I’ve heard. I mean — minor enough to convince my dad to let me tag along, so.“

“Yeah, I know. I just hate not being there to have your back.”

I lean into his side, shoving him playfully, “You suggesting I can’t handle myself?”

“Absolutely not,” and I see I’ve forced a grin onto his face, “Just think, ya know, maybe your dad’s had a few too many juice pops lately, and I gotta be concerned — I mean, a gain in weight could throw off his balance in the suit—“ 

“Oh! Throwing my dad under the bus here, are we?” I laugh, “That’s funny, maybe I’ll mention it to him later.”

“Kidding! Don't tell your dad I said he’s fat — he's not.” He hangs onto my hand as I stand from the med-bay bed, “He’s a very fit man, you know, for his age.”

I laugh, “This just gets better and better! I’ll make sure to tell him you think he’s old too after I get ready.” 

I move to walk away, but Peter stops me, tugging my hand gently.

“Hey, but seriously,” he murmurs, “be careful tonight. Come back in one piece for me. Okay?”

“Of course,” I say, and lean my forehead against his, “And you have a fantastically boring night, let your arm rest. Don't get into any trouble.”

He kisses me long and gentle, “I’ll try not to.”

——————

Tonight’s mission was a fairly routine one. One of the lingering branches of Hydra left, hiding in a bunker and planning nothing good. We’d all been briefed on the most recent information about their weapons and tactics, and the team had decided tonight was the time to shut the place down. 

I examine the repulsors in the palms of my suit, sleeker like Peter’s, but armed similarly to my dad’s. There’s about 15 minutes before we fly out, so I tuck my braids beside my neck — getting my hair caught in the helmet seriously blows — and make my way up to the launch pad. 

“Hey, offspring!” my dad plants his hand on my head and shakes it, “You still wanna come along on this one? Sure you don't wanna stay home? Absolutely? Because you know, you’re welcome to, in fact, DUM-E's been missing you down in the lab, i’m sure he’d appreciate your company—“

“Nuh uh, old man, I'm going with. You said so.”

“Oh, so I’m old now? You know, I did end up with an extra five years than you, so you can cut me a little slack.”

I laugh and walk onto the quinjet to meet the team, “Never.”

————————

“You all remember your assignments?” Steve asks, “Me and Sam, Tony and Wanda, Nat and Y/N.”

A chorus of yes’s and nods follow, as if this wasn’t the fourth time we’d answered that question. 

The ride to the bunker is relatively boring, other than my dad pestering me with Stay with nat, and don't get distracted, and be careful, and don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don't do anything Peter would do. Nat and Wanda chuckle at my situation from across the quinjet, and it was getting pretty old by the time we landed a bit outside the target. 

Once we’ve all gotten set with weapons and coms, we start out on the jog to the bunker. Upon arriving there, Nat and I are tasked with stealing a hard drive that contains targets and weapons data. From what we know, it’s in a room close to the center of the building, so we have a long way to go while trying to get noticed as little as possible. 

My dad tells me to stay safe and call for him if needed before we part ways, and Nat and I are alone in a dark hall.

“Alright,” Nat whispers, “We move toward the center of the bunker, 4 floors down, we’ll use the vents if we have to. They might cause a scene somewhere else, but our job is to keep hidden, all the way in and out if we’re lucky.”

“And when are we ever lucky?” I murmur back with a smirk.

“Don’t jinx it, kid, let’s go.”

For the most part, the beginnings of the mission are easy. We used Friday’s heat signatures for a full week to map out the guards’ schedules, so we knew what halls to stick to and when. Making our way to the less-monitored maintenance stairwell, we walk in silence, keeping an ear out for updates over the coms. Just as we reach the bottom of the third flight of stairs, a pair of guards walks through the doors.

“Hello, boys,” Nat says and quickly turns to me, “I’ll take the tall one.”

With that, we spring to action.

The pair raise their weapons toward us, but Nat quickly disarms the man across from her while I blast the gun from the shorter man’s hand and drag him through the doorway before he can reach the alarm on the outside wall. Slamming him into the stair railings, he tries to get rid of me by throwing a headbutt my way, but my suit takes the brunt of the impact. Pulling my arm back and releasing his wrist, I aim a punch square at his face and hear a crack when it lands on his nose. After a disdainful grunt, he shoves me back and tries to kick my legs out from under me, but I quickly grab hold of his ankle and yank up. The man lands harshly on the floor, and one kick is all it takes to knock him out. 

When I look up, Nat has already beat her opponent and is checking the outer hall for more guards. “It’s clear,” she says, and we both take the ankles of the two guards and drag them through the door into the nearest room, tying them up securely before jamming the door in place. 

“I hope they enjoy a nice nap, let’s keep moving,” Natasha says, and we make our way back to the stairwell.

Finally on the fourth lower level, we hold ourselves with a bit more caution. This is where they guard more heavily, and we still have quite a ways to travel before we’re near the center of the building. With light steps, we make our way down the dimly lit halls, occasionally ducking through doorways and turning corners to avoid passing agents, guards and other workers. It seems as if most of the work they do happens down here, as we constantly see high-ranking members and people in lab coats muttering to one another as they roam the halls. I’m only able to catch a few words of any given conversation, and of the ones that were spoken in English, none of them sound pleasant.

Nat and I travel fairly uninterrupted for the next few halls before she stops me and says, “Alright, we’re close to the center now. The hard drive we need is going to be in a lab somewhere around here, so we’re checking rooms. If there are any heat signatures, we clear it together. If Friday doesn’t pick any up, we split and multitask.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? Going against my dad’s orders, huh?”

She gives me a wry smile, “You seem to be able to handle yourself, and it’ll get us out of here faster,” she points at me, “Just don't make me regret it.”

I laugh, “I won’t.”

And with that, we start scanning the upcoming rooms.

The first room we check has a few Hydra agents inside, so we clear it together, check the computers for the right information and come up empty handed, breaking the doorknob and continuing on. We go about this for a while, knocking out the occupied rooms together, splitting up to clear empty rooms, checking for the right hard drive, and moving on. It’s tedious, but no alarms have been activated so far, and we make a good team. 

Now very close to the center of the bunker, we come upon another few rooms free of heat signatures, so we once again divide and conquer. We have to be getting close now.

“I’ll take this one on the left, you’ve got the right?” I ask, walking carefully toward the door.

“Gotcha, call if you find anything.”

I open the large metal door and take a cautious step in, examining the room around me. There are no lights on, so I use a light on my suit to see my surroundings. 

It’s strange, the room is large with high ceilings, but is pretty much empty. A few scraps of metal and packaging are strewn about the floor. Concrete floors and dark walls line the place. I take a few steps further in to double check that I haven’t missed anything, but all I see is one door on the opposite side. I turn back to exit when the entrance I came through slams shut in front of me. Alarmed, I run forward and try to open it, but the handle won't budge.

“Nat!” I whisper hushed through the coms, “The door shut behind me, can you get it from the outside?”

I hear her footsteps approach from the other side and the sound of her trying to open the door, “I can't get it, and the lock must be electric, there’s nothing to pick. How’d this close on you?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t see it.”

I hear a new voice over the coms, “Wait, did you two get separated?” My dad’s voice resounds with a hint of anxiety, “What did we talk about, Y/N? I said to stay with—“ 

“I tried! Not my fault the door shut behind me.”

“Well you should’ve gone through the door with Nat in the first place!”

“Hey!” Natasha’s voice cuts in, “While I would love to listen to you two bicker, we’ve got a job to do. She’s fine, Tony, we’ll figure it out.”

“I could just blast the door handle—“

“No, Y/N, it’ll be too loud, we’ve gotten this far without being noticed.” I hear Nat huff through the door, “It’s in our best interest to keep it that way. Friday’s telling me there’s another door, leads out to a hall. I can go around and meet you there. It's further toward the center, so at least if you have to blast the thing down we’ll be closer to the target.”

“Sounds good, I’ll wait for you,” I say, and with that, Natasha stalks off through the halls. 

I turn to make my way across the room, walking leisurely. This place really is unusually huge for a seemingly-unused underground room, about the size of a school gymnasium. I’m wondering if it may have been used for storage or training when I hear a noise to my left.

Turning swiftly with my guard now up, I see a male guard walk through a side door. Another entrance? How did I miss that? I ready my fists in a fighting stance and call through the coms, “Hey Nat? This room was occupied, I’ve got it handled for now but you might wanna make it here quick.”

Strangely, I get no response, but I don't have time to dwell on that fact because the man is charging toward me.

He’s a good fighter, and we both land some hard hits as we combat to occupy the room. I flip over him and blast him into the wall, but he recovers abnormally quickly and rises up again for more. I land another punch to his stomach once he’s in range, but he quickly grabs my wrist after and squeezes with inhuman strength, crushing the thin-design gauntlet on my hand. The metal cuts into my palm before tear what remains off and launch him over my shoulder onto the floor. I move to kick his side but he grabs my leg and throws me off balance, and my back hits the floor in a harsh slam. Groaning, I try to sit up as the guard grabs a metal pole off the floor — oh shit — and slams it onto my other palm, crushing my second gauntlet. Two hands now bare, aching, and unarmed, I continue to fight at a slight disadvantage. But I’ve trained for years, I can handle this.

It turns out maybe I couldn’t handle it. 

The guard has to be one of Hydra’s human experiments, because he’s stronger than the average adult. I struggle to gain the upper hand for several minutes. He's had me pinned me to the ground, and just when I think his weight is lifting off me he brings down the pole on my side. Hard. 

I groan and curl away. Even through the thin — and now damaged — metal of my suit, the blow took the air out of me. I press my palms to the cold floor to push myself up, but another blow strikes my back and I collapse forward. Finally, the man grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my head into the ground, and a ringing suddenly starts in my ears. Dizzy, head aching, and barely able to think, the next thing I register is being dragged across the room to the opposite wall by my wrists, which are then cuffed in front of me.

And strangely, the guard who put all that effort into beating me walks out of the room.

“Hey!” I shout, “What’s going on, asshole!? Come back here!” But he doesn’t return, and shuts that same side door behind him. I groan in frustration, head still pounding in pain, and try to reach the team again, “Anyone hear me? I’m still in this room, my gauntlets are broken and I'm cuffed, anyone around?” No response, “Hello?”

I’m starting to think Hydra somehow interrupted our signal when another noise distracts me from across the room. 

The door opens once again, and this time five people exit. Four guards and…

Peter.

A chill surges down my spine.

They’re dragging Peter into the room.

“Peter?” I call out, panicked, “Hey! What are you doing with him?”

He’s dressed in plainclothes, so he didn’t come here as Spiderman. He doesn’t look like he’s in the best condition, slumped and hardly fighting the guards who are carrying him to the center of the room. My mind starts racing with all the things they could’ve done — what’s wrong with him? How could they have hurt him so badly he isn't able to fight back, especially with his strength? I need to get him away from them, but if these four guards are anywhere as strong as the last, I need a plan of attack. Or backup. Where is the team?

And how did they get to Peter? Peter Parker, not Spiderman, so not out on the streets — he was supposed to be in the lab tonight. Did they get into the compound? Is anyone else hurt? My mind keeps spiraling into more and more panicked thoughts, and then I hear him.

“Y/N?” He calls out, “Where are we?” His voice is raspy and slurred, and I think they must’ve given him something, some sort of drug. I’m about to call back to him when a guard lifts him up and punches him in the stomach.

“No!” I shout, raising up to my knees and then beginning to stand before one of the four guards points his gun at me. I stay there, kneeling before the scene, not knowing what to do to stop either of us from getting hurt. The three remaining guards begin to beat on him again, kicking and punching and Peter is too delirious to serve any resistance other than curling up and grasping weakly at the ankles of the men hurting him. I can hear his pained whimpers, and my heart squeezes in my chest, I feel tears building in my eyes.

“Stop! Stop hurting him, what do you want?!” I scream, wanting to get closer to him but still at a stand still with the fourth guard, “Come on, tell me what you want! You’re not getting anything by just beating him!”

The three guards pay me no regard, but the fourth, still pointing his gun at me, snickers as if I’ve said something funny.

Peter is still at their mercy, receiving hit after hit and a voice in my head tells me, they’re gonna kill him. You have to do something or they’ll kill him.

“What do you want? Come on, what is it?!” 

And with a heavy accent, the man says, “To cause you misery.”

The chill returns, and I decide — despite my terrible odds — that I have to get them away from Peter. 

I get my feet firmly under me.

I charge toward the guard with the gun, bracing myself.

And he does something I didn’t expect.

He turns the gun on Peter.

I hear three shots.

“NO!” I scream, my eyes go wide and I drop to my knees once again, facing Peter and crawling toward him, “No, no, no, no, no!”

The guards shuffle back into the shadows, laughing, seemingly done with their job, but all I can see is Peter.

I’m frozen for a second, staring, shaking, unable to process the scene before me. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hands grasping at his chest where blood has begun to pour from three wounds. I race toward him and drop to the ground at his side, placing my cuffed hands firmly over the holes in his chest.

“Peter?” I say, my voice tight and choked, “Hey, hey listen to me, you’re gonna be okay. The rest of the team is here, my dad is here, he's gonna get us out, okay?” A few of my tears leak down onto my hands, running into the blood that now stains them.

“Y/N?” He mumbles, hardly able to speak.

“Yeah, it’s me, I'm so sorry,” I sniff and try to keep my throat from closing up, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them but you’re gonna be fine, Peter, we’re gonna get help.” 

His face is twisted in pain, and when he tries to speak next, only a cough comes out, and blood bubbles out over his lips.

I fail to hold back a sob and move my hands to his cheeks, “Shh,” I try to get out, but it comes out shaky, like a whimper, “Shh, don’t— don’t try to talk.”

His eyes look into mine, I can see the pain behind them as he lies there, struggling to breathe. I stroke his cheek, and only now come to notice the blood I’ve painted there. I sob again. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help him.

Can I?

Is it too late?

I cradle his head across my thighs, take one of his hands in mine and leave the other on his cheek, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” and I just keep saying it, breathing it out and heaving air back into my lungs between sobs. Tears are constantly tracking down my face now, and i’m doing all I can to subdue them while he’s still conscious, still looking at me. 

My mantra of apologies keeps repeating, and my thumb keeps stroking along his cheek, and I don’t know how long I sit there, crying, mumbling, desperately hoping someone comes to help us before I notice him release a slow, defeated breath.

In, out.

“Peter?” I mumble. My blood freezes in my veins. My breath stills. I wait for his chest to rise again. I watch and pray for it to happen. Please, please, please.

It doesn’t move.

A long, whining sob erupts from deep in my chest as I drop my head and cry, and cry, and cry above him, “No, no, no, no. Please, no.”

I sob, loud and painful, unable to take a breath in anymore. I shut my eyes and don't look up because I can't look at his face — his eyes are still open his eyes are still open. 

I’m never gonna see him again,

I’m never gonna hear his voice again, 

I’m never gonna kiss him again.

The pain in my chest gets worse and I feel dizzy with the force of my sobs.

And then suddenly there are arms under mine, and I'm being dragged backwards.

Away from Peter.

“No, no, no, no, let me go! Let me go!” And what i’m saying is barely coherent between the sobs, “Let me stay with him, please, please!” But the arms hooked under me don't relent, no matter how hard I pry at them, no matter how hard I kick and scream. He’s getting farther and farther away from me, alone in that room, and I can't bear the thought of it.

“Please, let me go!”

And suddenly I hear my name, as if through a haze, but I can’t make out who’s saying it. I don't really care. I have to get back to him, I have to stay with him, I can’t leave him alone.

“Y/N— “

“Y/N it’s us! Come on!”

I pull and pull at the hands around me but I can’t remove them, I keep getting pulled backwards until— 

I’m yanked through a doorway, and the room where Peter lies is dark and blank in front of me.

My hearing isn’t fuzzy anymore.

I gasp in surprise but the sobs haven’t stopped, and my father’s unmasked face appears in front of me.

“Y/N? Hey! You’re okay, we’re here!” His hands are on my face but I swat them away.

“No! Peter’s in there! We can't leave him! We have to take him home, we have to get him home—”

“Y/N— “

“Dad they shot him, I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t help him—“ my words dissolve again into cries of grief.

“Y/N he's not in there.”

I turn to him in confusion.

“He is!” I point my hand frantically toward the doorway, “In the middle of the room! They k— they killed him in there!”

“Y/N…” my dad speaks.

And it’s then that I notice my outstretched hand, pointing toward the door.

There’s no blood on it.

I start to shake harder.

“I- I saw it, I saw it happen I— “

And I notice the thin fog rolling out through the doorway, lazily dispersing along the floor.

I look up. I breathe heavy and shakily. The whole team is staring down at my red, tearstained face. Cap’s face is twisted into concern, Natasha looks sad and sympathetic. Hydra agents lie dead or out cold on the ground, alarms blaring, but no one takes any steps to exit. The raid is over…

And I can't see any blood on my hands.

“Y/N, it was a hallucinogen,” my dad says firm, but gently, “Whatever you saw in there wasn’t real.”

I stare at him, trying to make sense of this. It looked so real. It felt so real.

“But— but I saw it— I felt it, I could feel what they did—“ 

He gently breaks the cuffs from my wrists, “I know, I know kiddo, but it wasn’t real. They know how to get in your head.” 

I shake my head in confusion, “But the cuffs? And my gauntlets are broken—?”

“Whoever did that was real.” Nat cut in, “They hurt you so you wouldn't fight the simulation and then the drugs were pumped into the room.”

I sit there on the floor in front of the Avengers. Disbelief, confusion, and grief all playing across my face. 

“Check the room,” I demand.

My dad points a light into it, and Steve walks through, “No one here, see?”

My mind still races, it felt so real.

“Friday?” My dad speaks up, a gentle hand in my hair, “Where’s Peter now?”

“At the compound, sir, working on his suit in your lab.”

I sniff and mumble out, “Vitals?”

“All normal levels.”

I sigh, squeeze my eyes shut, and drop my head into my hands. A sob of leftover panic and relief fights its way out of my chest.

“C’mere,” My dad says, and pulls me closer to him, a soothing arm around my back.

“I need to see him,” I choke out, “I need to know he’s not— “

“I know, I know, we got the job done here, we’re going home.”

——————

I don't remember the walk back out of the compound. It’s all vague reassurances and worrying eyes. I think my dad buckled the straps around me once we got to the quinjet. 

The flight back is somber, quiet, despite the fact that we succeeded. I feel the entire team’s eyes on me, but I don't look up. I’m too busy sitting curled on my seat, staring down at my hands.

There was so much blood. So much of his blood.

I spend the next few hours staring, not speaking, unable to stop the images from replaying in my head. My dad sits beside me, stroking my hair, muttering things I can’t hear.

I thought he was gone. All I can hear are the choked, wet sounds of the blood rising from his throat, all I can see is the stark image of dark red dripping down his pale cheek. Pain in his eyes. His chest refusing to move.

“Y/N,” I think it’s the fourth attempt someone makes to get my attention, and I look up to see my dad kneeling in front of me, “We’re almost back.”

“He’s at the landing pad?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

My dad takes my hand and says, “Yeah, I had Friday call him up.”

The next thing I’m aware of is the quinjet touching down, and I unbuckle the straps and stand up. My dad rests a reassuring hand on my back, and when the ramp lowers, he walks me forward. He can tell I’m still doubtful. He can tell a part of me still believes what I saw back in that room. 

But then we reach the ground and I see him.

Peter is standing back from the landing pad, accompanied by Pepper. He’s healthy, he’s standing on his own, he’s not bleeding, he’s not hurt, he hasn’t been shot, he’s okay.

He’s not dead.

I pick up the pace, walking out of reach of my dad, and once I’m close enough to see his eyes a sob fights its way up my throat and I throw my arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, shh, it’s alright,” his arms wrap firmly around my back, one hand landing in my hair and one stroking up and down my spine. His hair tickles my cheek, his shirt collar is bent out of shape — he never folds them right. He’s warm and strong and breathing and alive. I bury my face in his neck as another sob wracks through my body.

“What happened?” I hear him ask, confused, and his voice rumbles so low and soothing and I can feel it against my chest, hear it in his throat where my ear is pressed. I can’t stop my cries long enough to answer him but I realize the question wasn’t directed toward me.

“She’s not hurt,” my dad’s voice reassures him, “They messed with her head. She thought — she saw them hurt you—“

“I thought you were dead,” I croak out. My grip on him tightens and I let my hand trail to the curls at the base of his neck, let them twist around my fingers. My voice has risen an octave when I say, “You died, I saw you die.”

We sway for a moment, his hands still running down my back and through my hair, I don't think he knows what to say. I wouldn’t know, either. 

We stay there for a minute, and the rest of the team has walked inside to give us some space, I assume. 

After a while, when my sobs have quelled and I'm just quietly sniffling against him, I feel his hand on my cheek, pulling me back.

“Hey,” He whispers gently, wiping his thumb under my eye to clear away the tears there, “Good thing that wasn’t me then, right? I’m right here. And I’ve got proof— I was talking Dr. Banner’s ear off in the lab the entire time, he can vouch for me,” I let out a watery giggle at his antics, “You wanna go inside? Get you warm, patch you up?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, disentangling myself from him, but keeping an arm around his side as we walk into the building, “Sorry, I’d give you a hello kiss but I’m pretty sure there’s snot running down my face.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the hair at my temple, “That’s okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

——————

After a brief period of time, I’ve showered, changed into pajamas, and am now sitting at the bathroom sink where my dad is bandaging the shallow cuts on my hands from the broken gauntlets. We sit in relative silence, and there’s no doubt from the look on my dad’s face that I appear just about as shell shocked as I feel. 

“Kiddo, you gonna be okay tonight?” He asks in a hushed voice. 

I don't look him in the eye, instead watching him work on my hands as I mumble out, “Probably not.”

He huffs with a bit of amusement, “Well, thanks for the honesty, I guess.”

He finishes up on my left hand and raises my chin to look him in the eye. I don't know what to say, so I let him speak first.

“Seriously, Y/N, that was heavy, what you went through. Don’t be afraid to ask any one of us for help, okay?” He looks me pointedly in the eye, already doubting I’ll take him up on that. I am his daughter, after all. 

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Got it.”

He stands with a sigh and puts the first aid kit back under my sink.

“Goodnight, come get me if you need me.” He presses a kiss to my head and leaves.

——————

Tony looks at the clock. 7a.m., three hours after they returned from the mission. 

“Friday? Has Y/N gotten any sleep yet?”

“No, sir. She spent a few hours in the kitchen with Mister Parker, but it appears as if they are both headed to their respective rooms now.”

“Alright. Alert me if she needs help, Fri.”

“Will do, sir. Goodnight.”

——————

“Sir, it appears as if Y/N is in distress.”

Tony wakes up to the alert just forty minutes after he’d laid down to sleep. He's quickly alert and shuffling out of bed, down the hall to his eldest daughter’s room. Although, when he turns the corner he sees Peter already at the door.

The teen looks up at him, “Hey, Mr. Stark. I— Friday told me she needed help. I was just gonna check in.”

“Me too,” Tony sighs, “You go ahead, Pete. It’s you she needs to see right now. Goodnight.���

The man turns to leave, but stops short of turning the corner. He says, tired, but playfully, “Door open, Parker.”

“Gotcha, Mr. Stark,” And the boy walks in to comfort his daughter.

Several hours later, after Tony’s gotten his meager version of a full-night’s sleep, and after a night he’s sure has held several nightmares for his daughter, he walks back past her door to make sure she’s okay.

He smiles warmly at the scene. Wrapped in Peter’s Midtown sweatshirt, his daughter sleeps, restless but quiet, leaning an arm over the boy she loves. He holds her secure, both their legs strewn about the covers, and Tony can't help but notice Y/N’s hand. Resting softly at the side of Peter’s neck, fingers in the hair behind his ear, and her thumb rests just over the boy’s pulse point. Thrumming gently in sleep, reassuring her — even in her unconscious state — that what she saw was fake. Peter is alive and well, sleeping soundly right beside her.

—————

Alrighty that’s it! Let me know how you liked it and thanks for reading!

[crimsonrae]

Oh, I am excited then! May I please request a Captain Syverson or Clark Kent/Femme! Reader oneshot where it's the reader's birthday, but she doesn't tell Sy/Clark because she doesn't celebrate/forgets and they find out and do something for her? Maybe a surprise dinner or something? Thank you so much, darling!!

Hey Nonnie,

As requested a birthday fic with Mr. Kent. Fluff fic - I hope you like it.

Clark KentxReader

Falling, Flying

Happy Birthday!

You sighed wearily as you eyed the balloon decorated card from the florist. A beautifully arranged bouquet of sunflowers and chrysanthemums rested on your desk. Admittedly, the amber and wine tones were striking and brought a brightness to your office that was usually lacking, but it was also like having a bright neon sign to remind you of a day that you usually wanted to ignore.

This was the problem with having with life-long friends... they liked to torture you.

You chucked the card into your trash and moved the flowers to the window. You’d text Maria later to call her an asshole and thank her for the little gift.  

“Hey, nice flowers.”

Your butt had barely touched your desk chair. Biting back another sigh, you glanced up to see Lombard loitering in your doorway, “Thanks... Did you have that election article for me?”

“Y/N, it’s all work and no play with you.” Lombard complained loftily as he leaned against the threshold.

You shook your head, ignoring him as you logged into your computer. Your fingers clacked hard at the keyboard when he didn’t disappear nor answer your question. He stood like a creepy grotesque and it only took another minute of stunted silence before you broke.

“Lombard, what do you want?” He grinned victoriously while you threw a mocking scowl at him, “Article?”

He sauntered forward and dropped into the chair before your desk, “So, what are the flowers for? Did Smallville screw up? Apology flowers? Or an anniversary? Don’t let Lois see if it’s the second, cuzzz I don’t think it’s been quite a year since they’ve broken up.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled under your breath about reporters. Never mind that you used to work as one, editing was more in your comfort zone anyway. You and Clark had only managed to date for two weeks before the office found out.  

Bloodhounds – every single one of them.  

Including your boy.

“You should work for a gossip rag, Steve. You’d really shine there.” You stated dryly, focusing back on the screen as a few new articles showed in your inbox. It was going to be a busy day of fact-checking and proofreading.

“Oh, don’t be mean. I’m just taking a healthy interest in my colleague’s life.” A smugly amused smirk crossed his lips before a pen came flying at his face, “Hey!”

Unapologetic, you pointed at the door “Get out of my office and get your article done.”  

He moved to protest or retort, you weren’t sure, as a new voice interrupted.

“Harassing my girl again, Lombard.”

A feeling of déjà vu fell over you as you and Lombard looked to your door to see Clark leaning in the threshold. You smiled faintly at him becoming amused as Lombard actually shifted to stand. As nice as Clark was, Lombard was well aware that his arms were the size of his head. He felt it better for his ego if he never stood to close to the other reporter...or pissed him off.

And yet...

“Nice choice of flowers, Smallville. So, what did you do?” The smaller man queried jovially.

You threw another pen at him as Clark zeroed in on your present and frowned. He tilted his head curiously and came over to have a better look, allowing Lombard a direct escape if he wanted, “Those aren’t from me.”

You could practically feel a whole new level of intrigue pour from Lombard at Clark’s words. You sent the nosy reported a pointed glare and lifted a pen threateningly. He finally took the hint and left as you spun your chair to face your boyfriend.

You couldn’t stop a cheeky smile as he arched a brow at you, “Yeah...I’ve been meaning to tell you – I've been seeing other guys. You’re gonna need to step up your game, farm boy.”

Clark snorted and slanted a mockingly stern gaze at you through his glasses. You still couldn’t decide if you liked him better with or without the frames, but the meandering thought flew from your head as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and leaned into you. You spared a quick glance towards your open door before meeting him halfway for a kiss.

A soft warmth enveloped you as he nipped your lip and gently coaxed your mouth to open. He stole your breath as he delved deeper and you tasted each other thoroughly. Somehow, you always forgot how good a kisser he was.... it was almost unfair. Especially when he pulled away with that knowing glint in his eye that made you want to smack him and climb him like a tree all at once.  

He smirked, “Somehow, I’m not worried.”

“You don’t play fair.” You grumbled though an affectionate smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“Says the woman who’s receiving flowers from someone other than her boyfriend.” Clark drawled pointedly as he leaned against your desk.

Unwillingly, you glance at your flowery neon sign. You had no desire to share the real reason for the bouquet. Your birthday had never been a particularly good day for you and the only good ones that you had celebrated had been when you were alone.  

A cup of tea and a good book to read as you let the day pass you by and ignored the fact that you were another year older... that was your perfection.

You sighed and shrugged, “They’re from Maria, so no need to be jealous.”

His brow furrowed. He had only met Maria a few times and was still trying to wrap his head around the friendship you two shared. Insults, practical jokes, and a fair bit of clothes thievery made up the majority of your relationship.

“You guys aren’t in a prank war again, are you?” Clark asked leerily.

He had been the unintended victim of a couple of your pranks the last month and you couldn’t help, but smirk at the memory.  

You shook your head, a lie spilling from your lips before you could stop it, “No. I think I need to check my closet for those new Jimmy Choo's I bought. They’re probably gone now.”

Clark rolled his eyes, “I really don’t understand you two.”

“You don’t need to.” You replied calmly but made the mental note to check your closet anyway. You never knew with Maria.  

“Y/N! Stop canoodling your boyfriend! You’ve got papers on the printer.”

A low groan left your lips as a faint heat filled your cheeks at Lombard’s voice, but you moved to get up anyway. You had no desire to have him hover in your office again.  

Clark moved to follow before a colorful glint caught his eye. A quick check showed him that you were already out of the office as he reached down to pull the florist’s card from the trash. A deep frown marred his features as he took in the festive balloons and quickly scrawled birthday wish.

Why wouldn’t you tell him it was your birthday?

He quickly nabbed Maria’s number from your phone and disappeared from your office.

  ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Your eyes had begun to sting as you stared at your computer screen. A small headache forming at the base of your neck, as you continued to work. You hadn’t been wrong when you assessed that today was going to be busy.

Five more articles had appeared on your desk before lunch and about a dozen phone calls placed and taken before and after that – notes were scribbled into margins and glaring errors corrected. So far, you had only been able to toss back a couple pieces and it was well after six already. Tiredly, you rubbed at the bridge of your nose, more than ready to go home and collapse into bed...but there was still so much you needed to do.

“Hey, you about ready to go?”  

You started at the sound of Clark’s voice, nearly sending your keyboard skittering to the floor, “Christ! I swear you need a damn bell.”

He chuckled lowly, watching as you clutched at your chest and glared mildly at him. He came to stand next to your desk, noting that you hadn’t even begun to shut down for the night while his shoulder bag was already tucked under his arm, ready to call it quits, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Grab your stuff, I’m taking you to dinner.”

A rueful smile quirked at your lips as you wave him off, “Raincheck, babe. I need to get this done or Perry’s gonna have a fit.”

He frowned glancing over the mess of papers on your desk. He hadn’t planned for you to still be working and almost wondered if you had taken on extra articles on purpose, “How much more do you have to do?”

“Don’t know. Maybe another hour – two tops.” You shrugged and smiled softly at him, “You’re free to roam the skies, Captain.

Clark raised an incredulous brow. Not because you had alluded to his alter-ego, you had known for a few months now and had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend was a superhero. It was a road that had not been easily traveled by any means. No, his disbelief came from now being certain that you had taken on extra articles.  

You didn’t often seek solitude, but when you did it was by diving into your work... he had learned that particular quirk relatively quickly and almost painfully. But not tonight – tonight you and he had plans and he wasn’t about to let you break them.

He reached over your shoulder and hit a couple buttons on your keyboard to send your computer into hibernation. You stared in shock at his gall, “Clark!”

He was already grabbing your coat, “Dinner, let’s go.”

Your gaze swiveled from the computer to him, your headache becoming full-blown as your expression creased into annoyance, “I told you, I have work. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but we’ll just -”

“You didn’t have lunch.” He cut you off and crossed his arms with a mild glare of his own, “You’ve been mainlining coffee like there’s about to be a tariff placed on it. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that all you ate today was a bagel from Guillermo’s. And I know for a fact that no one has a deadline that needs to be met today or tomorrow. Dinner. Now. Don’t think I won’t drag you out of here.”

You glare at each other in a silent standoff. It wasn’t until he stepped toward you that you gave in with a heavy scowl, “What are you? My mother?”  

“A concerned boyfriend.” He retorted as he held out your coat.

You accepted it grudgingly and grabbed your purse before stepping out of the office. Clark followed behind you, not wanting to give you a chance to close the door on him. You had done it before.  

He watched you from the corner of his cerulean eyes. Your annoyance didn’t last long, but a deep weariness seemed to fall over you as the two of you left the Planet. He slid a warm comforting hand across the small of your back to grip lightly at your hip. Relief flowing through him as you leaned into his side. You weren’t too annoyed with him, then.

You made it down an entire block before you realized you didn’t know where you were heading. Both of your apartments were in the other direction and any decent restaurant required calling for a cab to get to...

You blinked in confusion, “Clark...where?”

He smiled wondering when you would ask. Glancing around discreetly, he pulled you into an alley and firmly against his body. Your brow rose, a questioned poised on the tip of your tongue that turned into a startled scream as you suddenly found yourself in the air.

Your arms wrapped around his neck like a lock as you buried your face into his shoulder. Muffled curses and small whimpers spilled from your throat as the two of you flew. Even when he slowed, now safely away from prying eyes and telescopes, you refused to look up.  

“You can relax. I won’t drop you.” He murmured into your ear, feeling mildly guilty for scaring you. He could feel you trembling and knew it wasn’t from the cold air.

A muffled curse was his only response as you gripped tighter. You did not like this.

Luckily, you were soon on the ground again, though it took you a few minutes to remember how to unlock your frozen limbs. Your heart pounded in your chest as you swallowed against a noxious turn of your stomach. You couldn’t stop shaking...

Clark rubbed soothingly at your arms as you tried to find some semblance of control over your body. Your eyes slowly opened into a dark glare, your hand already moving to smack him in the chest. It was infuriating to know that it wouldn’t hurt him, “Don’t ever do that again, you jackass.”  

His eyes widen in a way that reminded you of a scolded puppy, but you refused to bend and stumbled back a step. You turned intending to see where exactly he had dropped you and figure out how to get home but froze at the sight you found.

Twinkle lights shimmered in the burgeoning night sky as they danced about the branches of an old willow tree. A small wooden table set for two was guarded by the fluttering leaves while being showcased by the light. It was startlingly quaint and romantic all in one.

Martha smiled as she placed a covered dish in the center of the table and waved at the two of you. You were on the farm...  

“Happy Birthday,” Clark murmured behind you.

Your mouth moved silently before you turned confused eyes on him, “...How?”

“I saw the card in your trash can. Called Maria... then I called mom.” Clark explained casually as if he were talking about the weather.

Stunned all you could do was blink, even as Martha came up to greet the two of you.  

She wrapped you in a quick hug, “Happy Birthday, dear.”

Then turned to place a kiss to her son’s cheek before shooing you towards the table, “Go, eat before it gets cold. I need to finish your cake.”

Cake. The word jolted you back to reality, “Oh Martha - you didn’t need to go through all this trouble.”

“Nonsense.” She called back, already halfway back to the house.  

Distracted, Clark slipped his hand into yours and gently tugged you towards the table. Smells of garlic and tomato and cheese wafted toward you and your mouth began to water. Sheer wonder filled you as Clark pulled your chair out for you and then moved to uncover the dish Martha had left. Steam rose into the air as he revealed a freshly baked lasagna. Salad and garlic bread next to it.

Your throat constricted as you took in the care that had gone into this... A home cook meal shouldn’t bring you to tears, but you felt the sting at the corners of your eyes.  

“Y/N?” Clark called quietly. Worried that he may have overstepped his bounds with this surprise.

Your heart felt too big for your chest as you met his gaze. It was with tremulous movements that you left your seat to place a grateful kiss to his lips, “Thank you...I didn’t...You didn’t need...”

You couldn’t find the words to express just how overwhelmed you were feeling as you fell back to your seat, but not letting go of his hand.

Clark watched you with a soft smile, “I think it's my right to spoil my girlfriend on her birthday, though it would help if I had known sooner.”  

A stray tear spilled down your cheek as you shook your head, knowing that you would have to explain your distaste for this day...but you also didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts, “I didn’t expect you to...Clark -”

He squeezed your hand as if he already knew, “Tell me later, I have more spoiling to do.”

You huffed a laugh and shyly smiled, “You know Clark Kent, you really know how to make a girl fall.”

He grinned widely, “And to think you hate flying.”

“You’re still not fully forgiven for that... but I think I’ll get over it.” You murmured, joy burning your veins as his expression turned relieved.

He pressed a kiss to your joined hands.

It was the first birthday you could say that you truly enjoyed. Over a plate of hot lasagna in the late summer night as crickets chirped and frogs sang and with a man... a man who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. That was the only present you ever needed.

  ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

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[pretendrocketships]

Think About Me

About: Shawn fucking you after your bachelorette party, reminding you who you belong to. Forever. (SMUT)

A/N: 3K THIS REQUEST WAS EVERYTHING. IF YOU HAVE A FIRE REQUEST LIKE THIS YOU BETTER SEND IT. I went from Dom!Shawn to cute and giggly mid sex Shawn.Idk how this ended up being so cute.  Lmao I hope y’all can see I’m indecisive.   Actually had fun with this, I’m back babbieesss. I would love love love some feedback. 

Song: Think About Me by DVSN

--- 

“Baby! Have you seen my keys? I’m going to be so late and the girls are going to kill me.” Shawn sat on the couch and continued starring at whatever was so captivating on his phone, 

“Nope, haven’t seen them.” You rolled your eyes and took his phone out of his hand.

“Shawn, you didn’t even look up from your phone, let alone help me look!” 

“One, you’re cute when you yell, and two, you asked if I had seen them which I truthfully answered no.” He snatched his phone back and planted a quick kiss on your lips before plopping himself back onto the couch. “Any other questions?”

“What is wrong with you?” you asked more to the wind than to him.

“Nothing. Fine.  Why wouldn’t I love sparkly pink balloons and confetti around our house, reminding me that over-sexualized men are going to be rubbing their junk all around your face,” he said drawing air circles around your head, “for the entire night!” You threw your head back in a laugh.

“Baby, don’t be like this, you had your fun last month,” you reminded him. All the boys flooded out of hiding to surprise Shawn with the “dream bachelor party”, as they called it. You remember the pictures on Brian’s Facebook of Shawn’s goofy drunk smile and all of his closest friends finally in the same place at the same time. Clicking through the album you were cracking up until you saw a picture of Shawn with his hands covering his eyes and the boys laughing or wide-eyed around him. You were ready to click to the next picture to see what all the fuss was about until suddenly everything disappeared. The album disappeared before your eyes, baffling you until your computer pinged, signaling a private message from Brian: “Sorry love, what happens in Vegas and all that.” You snapped yourself out of the memory when you felt Shawn pouting around you.

“Ok yes, buttt it was all Brian! I had no choice; I was kidnapped!” he whined, sinking further into your plushy couch.

“You’re lucky you’re cute Mendes,” you said, straddling him and kissing his temple to attempt to stop his whining.

“So you’re staying?” he said perking up, sliding his hands around your waist, towing with the hem of your dress. It was your turn to laugh.

“Oh hell no, I’m going to have a great time, baby.” You leaned close and kissed up his neck, ending just under his ear when you felt him shiver. “And you’re just going to have to get over it,” you remarked kissing him slowly while he pulled you impossibly closer. “My needy boy,” you chuckled lowly.

“You actually cannot leave me here right now,” he groaned thrusting his hips up.

“Watch me,” you whispered. You felt a little evil, but mainly powerful. Getting off his lap, you were excessive with sliding off him and shaking your ass once you were back on your feet. “Don’t wait up.” 

“You know what, I will. I’ll take care of myself tonight you have fun. You smiled at him, that dazzling smile that initially made his heartache.

“You do that, baby,” you cooed squeezing his cheeks, “give your right hand a break after a while.” He groaned. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, far from it, he just hates how hot you are. That was confusing, and he admits it, but having a fiance so attractive means looks. He was no stranger to them. No matter how many times you reassured him all the stares were for him, but he wasn’t stupid. The fact that not one, not two, but several hot men with glistening abs and better dance moves than him were getting paid to put a smile on your face. Fuck he needs to stop thinking. He may be slightly freaking out, but he would never let you know that. He removed your hand from his cheek quickly and interlocked your fingers, stretching his hand out above the top of the couch.

“You can do whatever you want, honey,” he said whispering while holding an intense stare. “These guys can grind on you, touch you,” he muttered while trailing his other hand down your curves, “try their best to put on a show, but we both know I’m the one that has you begging, screaming,” his hand how ghosts over your neck,” cumming until you’re shaking. So, have fun, honey, I’ll be here when you need me.” Your breath hitched in your throat as goosebumps appeared all over your skin. He kissed your temple and pulled himself up from the couch. “Gotta get going, (Y/N), you’ll be late.” He was full-on smirking on, glad he took back control of the situation. You straightened up and fixed your top and your hair.

“Don’t wait up.” With one final kiss, you grabbed your keys, which were where you left them, you were out the door, leaving Shawn to ease his mind alone. Now, what was he going to do all this time? He didn’t even come back from his own bachelor party, spending the night at Brian’s because he was so far from gone by the end of the night. You got a picture from one of his friends with him curled up shirtless, in black jeans that were way too tight, with a teddy bear in his arms. No one was really sure how Shawn got to bed, but the picture was cute enough for you to not be mad at him for not coming home after a night of strippers. 

Shaking the thoughts of his bachelor party away, he got up and looked around the house for something to do, but everything in your home reminded him of you. Like everyone normal person, his mind went to Instagram to hope some mindless scrolling would take his mind off everything. Several questionable Tasty videos and dog pictures later, he found himself clicking through everyone’s stories, not paying much attention until his phone let out a scream. He almost dropped his phone before seeing your face flash across his screen. He sat up straighter on the couch and clicked back to start the story front he beginning. He saw you and your friends screaming on a party bus, he saw all the alcohol and the pink glitter sash that settled nicely between your boobs, so he thought. You and your friends were dancing and laughing about whatever you managed to hear over the loud music. The next story was a solo picture of you with the caption “LAST NIGHT OF FREEDOM DONE RIGHT!!” The next story, he wished he didn’t click on. The front of the strip club was familiar. He might have looked up all the best clubs in the city just in case he needed to come to rescue you, and this one was at the top of the list. He saw several more stories that were to follow, and he locked his phone. He considered throwing it, but he already heard the lecture you would’ve given him if you found out why. He decided to lay back and force himself to sleep, aka torture himself thinking about how was getting to rub their junk all over his almost wife.

-- 

“Bye! Thank you again!” you whispered as waved goodbye to your friends, silently thanking them for making sure you got home safe.  Shawn shot up from the couch as if his dick told him it was time to wake up.

“Honey!”

“Shawn!,” you screamed. “Don’t scare me like that, and I told you not to wait up!” He laughed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into him.”

“(Y/N)!” he mocked you, “you know I always do. So how was it?” he said waiting no time. You chuckled and pushed his chest, moving past him towards your bedroom. 

“Not much to tell.” He wrinkled his eyebrows at that, quick on your heels.

“What do you mean ‘not much to tell’?” You steadied yourself on the wall to take off one of your heels. 

“I mean you don’t really wanna know, baby.”

“Ok, now I need to fucking know exactly what happened.” He bent down to grab your legs and threw you over his shoulder. 

“Shawn! Put me down you fucking animal!” He came around to the couch and sat down, forcing you to straddle him.

“There, you’re down. Now, what happened?” You rolled your eyes and cupped the back of his neck.

“Do you really wanna know?” He rolled his eyes.

“Obviously.” You hit him in the chest.

“Don’t be an asshole or I won’t tell you anything.” He held his hands up in surrender and stayed quiet. You took a second to admire him. He looks so good when he wasn’t talking and letting you be in control. That gave you an idea. You leaned in, impossibly close to him. “Do you want me to tell you? Or show you?” His head jerked back in confusion for the second time on the night.

“Show me?”

“Show you.” And something clicked in Shawn.

“Show me.” You grinned and started to get off him and shake your hips in front of him. You were swaying side to side, to the beat of some song from the club that would not get out of your head. He was about to teach his hands out before you moved further. You whipped your head around. 

“Look, don’t touch.” After giving him enough of a show, you got back on top of him, letting his hands finally begin kneading your nearly bare ass. 

“No. This?” he said, squeezing particularly hard, “is all mine. And I will touch as I please? Got it?” You laughed and started unbuckling his pants.

“You can’t go one night without giving up control huh?”

“You never let me. I let you go out all night with your friends, let you have God knows how many guys dry fuck the air around you, let you post all over social media about how much fun you were having, yet the whole night I know you were thinking about how much better I could do. Had to shell out ones for those guys when I could having you moaning into the sheets. I let you have your freedom because I know at the end of the day you’re mine, and I’m yours,” he growls.

“W-was not thinking that,” you whimper, slowly feeling the rough pads of his finger paw at your clit.

“Then why are you so wet right now, honey?” You groaned. You wonder why you continually choose to lie to the person who knows you the best on this earth.

“Fuck you,” you spit out, unable to focus because he’s just tapping your clit and not doing anything. 

“Aw, honey, is that any way to speak to your future husband?” 

“Shawn, if you don’t do something right now you’re not going to be a husband.” He laughing and smiled while sliding your thong and underwear off in one swift motion. 

“What do they say? Happy wife happy life?” he continues giggling to himself. “Yeah, I’m funny.”

“For the love of, God,” you begin to sit up and take your shirt off. 

“Leave the sash on.” From giggling to stern, that was your Shawn. As you undressed, he went to work. His fingers were sinfully skillful. His thumb was rubbing slow circles into your clit. You leaned back into the couch cushions, the feeling washing over you.

“Fuck, Shawn, your mouth.” 

“So needy, could your little strippers make you feel this good?” Those were the last words he said before attaching his lips to your soon to be swollen bud. The sounds he was making were obscene and bouncing off the walls and amplifying in your ears. He was sucking your clit with the force of a vacuum, and you felt like he was trying to pull the orgasm straight from your core. He was lapping at your folds, it was messy and crude, just how you liked it. He spread your lips and spit directly on your clit.

“Fuck!” you cried out squirming. He drove back in, drawing patterns, letters, music notes. Whatever the fuck he was doing,  you just didn’t want it to stop.

“F-fingers,” you moaned out, reaching down to pull on his locks. Without warning, two of his fingers slipped inside of you, searching around and making themselves are home. Your hips were jerking and with one forearm, he held you down and made you take it. His fingers were grazing your gspot, rubbing softly like he was trying to build you up for as long as possible for your release. 

“Close?” he said muffled against your core, asking as if he didn’t know your body better than you did.

“Please, Shawn! I’ve been thinking about you all night, please, please just me cum.” You tried to stroke his ego to get him to be nice, but as soon as you said that, he let up and wiped his lips with a dirty grin while you were gasping, trying to catch your breath. “Shawn! What the actual fuck!” 

“No way you’re not cumming on me, honey.” He pressed what he thought was going to be a quick kiss to your lips when you pulled him closer by the neck to be fully on top of you. A soft chuckle was let out by Shawn until you glared at him. “Sorry! Sorry!” he said with his hands up, “the sash tickled.” 

“My husband’s an idiot.” He smiled wide at that.

“Wondering if you’re going to be able to keep insulting me with my cock stuffed halfway down your throat?” You whined and squeezed your legs together. 

“Shawn! He laughed and started stroking himself.

“Fine fine, I’ll stop teasing, but only because I love you.” He leaned over you, tip angry red. He spent a minute raking in your body, wondering how he got to be so damn lucky. He left sloppy kisses starting from your belly button all way down to your clit. “Ok, now I’m actually done teasing.” You opened your mouth to scold him until it turned into a scream.

“Fuck, Shawn!”

“Your wish is my command.” After he bottomed out, he took a second to savor the moment. Your eyes were squeezed shut, a light layer of sweat was covering your chest, and the glittery pink sash, your breasts looked like pillows just waiting for him to suck. 

“S-shawn, you can move.” His hips jutted forward, almost as if he were on autopilot. The sound of his hips slapping against you consumed the room. 

“God, you feel so good,” he moaned into the air as you clawed at his back, pushing him closer. He was exactly where you wanted him, attacking your favorite spots that he knew like the back of your hand. 

“No no no, Shawn, right there!” you whined as he started to slow down.

“Oh, I know.” Even with that purely fucked out look on his face, he still managed to be cocky. He pulled out completely, slapping his tip right against your clit, repeatedly. “Wanna hear you say I’m better than the strippers. You wanted to scream, actually, you might of, it was hard to think with your mind so hazy. All you could think about was the orgasm that was just ripped from you.

‘Shaw-”

“Say it.”

“Fuck me, just move!” Now he fucking with you, pushing only the tip in before pulling back out, laughing to himself about how frustrated you were. 

“You’re in no position to make demands here, honey,” he reminded. You would truly hate him if you didn’t love him so much.

“Fine! I was thinking about you making me cum all fucking night. No one can fuck me like you so please, please just let me cum.” The desperation in your voice made his dick twitch.

“God, I want that as my ringtone,” he groaned while pushing fully back into you, filling you beyond belief. He was done teasing now, coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t make you wait any longer because he couldn’t handle much more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he grabbed your right leg and threw it over his shoulder. His other hand snuck around your left to rub you fervently. 

“(Y/N),” he commanded in the tone that let you know he wanted your attention. You forced your eyes open to see Shawn staring straight at you. He held eye contact, watching your every move while he felt you flutter around him, letting him know you were close. “Come on, I know you’re close. Let go, baby.” His hips and hand sped up, forcing your orgasm to wash over you.

“F-f-cuk,” you broken cries were swallowed by Shawn’s lips. He snapped up into your forcefully, spilling inside you. You felt ribbons of his cum inside you, intensifying your orgasm. You were grabbing onto the arm of the couch, onto his back, anything to stabilize you, and bring you back down to earth.

“I’ve got you, honey. You’re okay.” You were still breathing hard when Shawn pulled you into his arms, squishing you both onto the couch. He snatched the throw hanging on the edge of the couch and pulled it sloppily over both of your bottom halves.

“I love you, you know that? More than every stripper in the world” He grinned and pulled you impossibly closer. Fuck. He was in love. Your breathing finally evened out as he played with your hair. He looked around the house that became his home because of you. He looked down at your sleeping figure and felt his heart swell. Seeing the glitter sticking to your chest, due to the sweat, he looked down and saw the sash still on you.  

“Bach that ass up,” Shawn read and rolled his eyes. “Fucking incredible.”