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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 1 month

Text

Out of the blue

König x reader (y/n).

Your best friend convinced you to subscribe on a dating app, you don't have expectations but you're keeping an open mind, on the other hand, König is pretty much in the same situation, Horangi and other guys insisted to him, none of you were expecting a wonderful night.

Warning: age gap, reader is in mid 20's. Grammatical and spelling errors. I think there's no mention of a specific gender but if I wrote some I apologize.

I hope you can enjoy it, as always perhaps it is not a good story but I'm sure someone out there will love this. 🩷

You're sitting, scrolling through the phone, your friends are at a party with a rugby team in a discotheque, your best friend has been insisting, calling you and texting you, even making video calls.

- Y/n please! You have to join us! You can't rot at home every Friday night!

- Working 9 to 5 is exhausting, I pass.

- What will you do tonight if you're not going to have a party or something?

Suddenly a new notification popped on your phone «Someone wants to meet you, Match or reject» then a text «Hi, would you like to go to dinner?»

- Y/N?

- Oh, I... I actually will go to dinner with a guy from that app... Remember?

- Y/N, please be careful, if you go... Send me your location and if something goes wrong call me, ok?

- Yes, mom! I love you, bye!

- Bye-bye!

As soon as you hang up the phone, you open the app and give him a «it's a match!» then responded his text «Hi, for sure, at your house or mine or any restaurant?».

Meanwhile König is sitting in the dining room of his apartment, lonely, he doesn't understand why he listened to Horangi and the rest of the guys.

- This is stupid...

He muttered to himself, he's waiting for your reply, you're the only one that he has sent solitude, nobody else. He's regretting his actions but then, you texted him back, after reading your message he wonders what would be the best option. He stood up and went to the fridge, there was only mustard, a tomato and a beer. Checking in the rest of the kitchen, there's nothing else.

It would be good to go to some restaurant but what if you feel afraid of him? He's massive, the scars on his face, his insecurities are eating him alive.

«i hope you don't mind, your profile doesn't have a photo, may I see a pic?»

-Scheisse.

Would be rude if he says no, also would ruin his chance with someone attractive as you. Oh, how much he hates this, why does he have to be so shy?.

«Ja, no problem, give me a minute :)»

«Thanks, take your time <3»

And actually he's taking a lot of time, is just a simple selfie, that's what he has been saying to himself. After 28 photos he's exhausted, tired and desperate, he doesn't know how to pose for a photo, how not to look intimidating, everything is getting worse in his mind, what if you think he's not what you're looking for? He didn't change his gym clothes, he looks like a mess, also, what if you feel afraid of him and just accept to go on this dinner because you're scared to cancel.

- AHHHH! Scheisse! Ok. Fuck off, let's send all of them.

He's afraid of your answer, he threw the phone to the table.

You're starting to worry, what if he's a fake profile? He's taking too long. Almost 40 minutes, you're considering simply not replying anymore when your phone rings.

«Kö: sent 28 new photos 📷»

Oh god, you hope those are not spicy photos or something. You opened the chat, ready to block him if those are hot pics, but no, Holy Jesus Christ, who is this man? He's tall, wearing shorts and a compression shirt, all black, his entire body looks muscular and strong, then his hair, he has a lot of hair for someone of his age, let's admit it, a lot of men start to lose hair after their 30's- 40's, but he looks good, you make a zoom to observe his face cautiously, there's some scars but if you have to be honest, those scars only makes him more attractive, his eyes are tired but blue like the sky, it only gets better and better. Definitely you can't reject him.

At this point, König is biting his nails, he's feeling very anxious, he hears his phone ringing, fuck, fuck, fuck, he's nervous, he could break easily the spine of the enemy, jump from a plane, disassemble a bomb, even fight against a bear, all that without any anxiety, but this, no, he can't.

He took the phone and went to your chat.

«Y/n: Oh god, you're very handsome» «So, where we will go to dinner? ;) »

He can't believe what he's reading, what did you say? He reads it again, no fucking way. Then he sees you're still on the chat waiting for a response.

«We can go to a good restaurant... If you're ok with that. What do you think?»

«Perfect, you can pick the restaurant, send me the location and I'll see you outside! ;D»

«Kö: sent a location 📍» «Ok, I'll see you at 9 Pm, ja?»

«See you! P.S. I'm excited! :D»

He sent the location of a small Italian restaurant close to the city center, which is expensive but he has a hunch about this night and also he doesn't mind spending much money, after all, he has been working hard for it.

You investigate the place, Italian food, your favorite food, the place looks really nice, casual, you like that. You change clothes and get ready, lucky for you, you live not so far from the center, it'll take you 18 minutes to arrive at the restaurant. You're not nervous, you're actually very excited, for the first time in months you're truly excited to have a date, maybe it will be a mess or... Maybe not, who knows? You keep that open mind and that optimism.

König arrived on time. He's checking his phone to see if you texted him while he was on the way, but no. He can't avoid thinking that maybe you will not come or something happened to you, he could be more polite and offered to pick you up at your home and arrive together. He's cursing himself when a sweet voice brings him back to reality.

- Hey

- Oh, hi... I'm König.

- König?

- Ja... (fuck, you maybe think he's giving you a fake name or something, god somebody save him!)

- It's very original, I like it, I'm y/n.

You're too kind, you're even giving him a big smile.

- Nice to meet you, y/n, I like your name too.

- Thank you! So what if we continue this conversation inside?... Let's go, I don't want to be rude but I'm so hungry!

- Sure, let's go, I'm hungry too.

As soon as you sit, there's a connection, you talk a lot, he laughs and laughs, the dinner is delicious, both share their food with each other, drinking beer and enjoying the moment, he talks to you about his job, just a little but you're fascinated by him and everything he's telling you.

(...) «No! I swear! I did a lot of sports and activities when I was a kid!» (...) «Ja! We were Falling and he didn't wake up! The plane was in flames and he was sleeping like a baby!» (...) «No, I was at home while my parents were at parties and doing all that was actually expected from someone of my age!» «Rugby and Hockey, beers and whiskey, those are my favorites!» (...) «Ja! I play that one too, I have a PC and PS and an Xbox» (...)

By the end of the dinner you and König are almost alone in the restaurant, the waitress comes to tell you they will close soon so König asks for the bill, you offer him to pay the half but he insists it's on him.

Once out, you don't want to go home, neither him but he doesn't know where else to go.

- I have an idea. Let's go, I'll take you to a cool bar that I like to visit sometimes.

- If it is a discotheque or something like that I think I prefer to walk around the city if you don't mind Schatz.

- Oh god, no, König, trust me, you will like this place.

Both are walking side to side, still talking and laughing, you don't have a clue about how much he's enjoying this moment, he's so focused on you that he has forgotten about all the people around who occasionally observe both. You're less shy or introverted than him, he likes that, you're funny, smart, pretty and full of stories.

Finally, you stop in front of a white door with a neon sign "The old dog's Bar", you take his hand and get inside.

There are not many people, it is dark, the illumination in the place is not the best, but it brings a good vibe, the people around are more old than young, the bartender is an old man, very charming.

- Hey Frank!

- Y/n! Welcome, would you like something to drink?

- Sure, whiskey for me and my friend, please, i saw tonight is a band playing, are they still here?

- sure, go, take a seat darling, they took a break but they'll be back soon.

You and König are sitting close to the small scenario, still talking, your drinks are on the table already.

- you will love this, I promise!

- How did you find this place?

- I was passing by one day, and Frank was trying to get some clients, I thought he was a very charming man so I decided to give this place a chance and I instantly fell in love.

- You're very interesting, young people like you maybe prefer to be somewhere else with more activity or something, but not you. You're beautiful, funny, you're smart... What else do I have to know about you, Schatz?

You blush and laugh.

- I'm full of surprises as much as you König! Oh, wait, I have to go to the bathroom, keep an eye on my drink please, I'll be back!

Once you're in the bathroom you text your friend to tell her you're having a wonderful night and that he's interesting and attractive. You were walking back to the table when you heard some guys talking.

«What will we do? I don't know, I'm not too good at playing it!!»

You continued walking and finally you sat, König is staring at you, he's lost in his thoughts observing you until the sound of the band in the scenario interrupts.

- Hey, we're back, we want to thank everyone who's here listening to us, thank you so much! We're close to finishing the show but our guitarist had an inconvenience and left, so, is there someone in the crowd who can help us?

You look around and the few people who are there are still sitting, apparently no one knows or maybe they're shy or not sure about standing up and helping the band. You sigh and look at König, he gives you a shy smile but for you that's enough to give you courage, you stand up from your seat.

- I can do it!

- Oh, sure come here, thank you so much for helping us!

You put your phone and some rings on the table and give a sip to your drink, you look at König once again and without thinking too much you squeeze his shoulder and whisper «I'll be back».

The guys from the band ask you some things about if you know some of the songs on their repertoire, fortunately, you know them well.

- (...) what about the solo guitar on 'Free bird'? Would you do it?

- Trust me, you won't regret it! Also I promised my friend a wonderful night, so... Let's do this.

Some songs by Fleetwood Mac, guns and roses, Red hot chili peppers, Toto, eagles, Depeche mode and finally the song you've been waiting for, Free bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd, you're nervous, you don't really know if you will do it. But just a quick look at König is enough for you to give your best.

König never stopped to look at you, he has been staring at you since you stood up on the scenario with that beautiful black Fender squier classic vibe, he's paying attention to the way you play, indeed, you're nervous but he feels somehow very proud, you're giving the best of you.

He doesn't know why, but he feels like he needs to take a photo of you, maybe the light over you gives you an angelical view, or is his point of view, he doesn't know but he needs to show you how you looked after the show.

You're brilliant, you don't understand how your fingers are moving in that velocity, it has been a while since you played guitar, but you're doing it great, your quick looks to the band and the people around tell you that even they are impressed by your skills.

At the end of the show you run to König smiling and still a little bit shocked by what you did a few moments ago.

It was almost 3 am, you've been out all night, you don't even feel tired, either König, he can't stop talking about the way you played guitar, he's charming, he told you he's shy and don't enjoy to be around many people or talk too much but with you he has been really sweet, open and a truly gentleman. He offered to walk with you and take you to your house, he doesn't feel good letting you go alone.

- I would love to repeat this, König you're a gentleman, I've had much fun and the dinner was really delicious!

- Ja, me too, you're amazing, I won't stop saying it, you were brilliant. I took a picture and a video of you playing, I'll send them to you later!

- Thanks, I promise you this is the best night of my life...

- I... I would like to have a second date too.

- For real?

- Ja, I mean if you don't mind that I'm... You know, perhaps too old for you.

- Are you kidding!? König, you don't even look old! You look better than people with the same age as me, you're thousand times more interesting than them and I already said it, I would love to repeat this!

- Gut!, I'll be working a lot this month though, but we can organize another date, check our schedules and all that.

- For sure, whenever you can, I'll be ready! Well... This is where I live.

Both walked to the door of your building, and talked a little bit more, he kissed your hand and then both said goodbye. You were closing the door of your apartment when your phone buzzed, you checked all the notifications, one was from König.

«Kö: Sent a new photo 📷 , sent a new video 📷»

You were looking at them when a new message appeared on the chat.

« I can't wait to see you again, Liebling. Thanks for the most amazing night of my life, sweet dreams Mein Schatz :D»

Needless to say that you jumped and ran through your apartment like a child on Christmas. You and König had more and more dates, eventually a first kiss, a first anniversary, etc.

Who said you can't find true love on dating apps?.

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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

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I want to live the cliche of cliches with him... I want to wake up next to hubby rdj, some lazy morning sex or just cuddles, make breakfast together, those types of things that couples does together, surrounded by lots of love... that's my request for rdj/fem reader 🖤

''I love you berry much!''

PAIRING | Husband!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.6K

SUMMARY | It is a lovely summer day as you and Robert start the day together with cuddles and being wrapped up in one another, followed by a run to the local market and ending with a dinner with some of his Marvel co-stars.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, established relationship (marriage), age gap (Reader is in her mid to late 30s, RDJ is in his mid to late 40s), smut (spanking, unprotected sex - wrap it before you tap it!), so much fluff your teeth would almost rot from the sweetness of it all.

A/N | Thank you so much for this sweet request, Nonnie! I let my fantasies run wild on this one, and I am convinced Robert is the most loving husband and a true gentleman. I hope you enjoy the route I took with this one, and if you ever have another request for him, please don't hesitate to let me know! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

You're still deep in your very comfortable sleep state when the sound of your alarm starts seeping through your subconscious, waking you up.

It takes a few moments to realize what's happening, but when it sinks in, you reach out for your phone, ready to turn your alarm off and turn around into the loving embrace of your husband.

With a soft sigh, you turn around, and just like you suspected, he's waiting with open arms for you to snuggle into, which you both make time for every morning.

''Mornin' Pumpkin,'' Robert says with a sleepy smile as you wiggle your way into his embrace, wanting to be as close as possible.

''Good morning, Bubs,'' you say once you have found your usual comfy position, and you let out one more small sigh as you revel in his body heat, the skin-to-skin contact being something you crave every single morning.

Thank god for sleeping naked.

''How did my girl sleep?'' he asks, and your cheeks feel warm as he calls you his girl. Even after almost 15 years of being together, you would never get used to him calling you that, and Robert is well aware.

''Like a log, thanks to you wearing me out last night. Everyone who thinks older guys don't last as long as younger people is very mistaken in their thoughts,'' you joke, and you lay your head on his chest, Robert's hands finding their way onto your waist and in your hair.

''Well, I can't help it when I have such a beautiful wife. Want to give her everything, and the least I can do is give her a few orgasms,'' he says, amusement sounding through his voice.

''Six, Robert. I swear it is not normal for a woman to cum like that six times,'' you say, but you would be lying if you didn't enjoy every second of him taking you apart last night.

Your hands are scratching slowly through his scruff, and you make a content noise when his hands move down your back, but you didn't expect him to land two hard slaps on your ass.

The shriek you let out is almost inhumane, and you go to sit up to get a good look at his smug face.

''It's a good thing I love you and that I enjoy getting spanked,'' you grumble, and he laughs while he kneads your ass with firm motions.

Robert squeezes harder than anticipated, and you grind over his hard member with your soaking cunt, earning himself a moan from your plump, pink mouth.

''Hmm, care to go for another round?'' you ask through half-lidded eyes, and the wide grin on his face tells you all you need to know.

You lift yourself slightly up, and he grabs hold of his hard cock, lining it up with your entrance, and you slide down in a smooth motion. A gasp leaves your lips at the stretch, even after last night.

''Oh god, you're still so tight for me, Pumpkin,'' he breathes out as you slide down until he's fully buried inside you.

''Hmm, feels so good to sit this fucking dick of yours,'' you say, and your filthy mouth always makes Robert go crazy.

You set the pace by slowly moving up and down, squeezing slightly to feel every single movement and twitch of him, moaning at the feeling as he hits your sweet spot each time.

''Hm, I love riding you like this,'' you say as you lean forward; his hands find their way back to your ass, and he picks up your pace a little bit, but not enough to make too big of a difference.

You capture his lips with yours, and when his mouth slightly opens, you take the opportunity to slide in your tongue, sliding against his at a leisurely pace while keeping the same speed.

Your hands find their place in Robert's hair and tug softly, earning soft grunts and groans from him as you both enjoy every little sound and movement from one another.

''Hm, I want you to fucking ruin me,'' you whimper as you sit back up again, your hands lying on his chest. You whine softly as Robert moves his grip to a tight one on your hips, and he does as you ask.

''F-fuck, yes! R-r-right there!'' you moan, and your hand finds its way to your swollen clit, your orgasm nearly there. With a few more thrusts and loud moans, you cum, shortly followed by Robert as he shoots his cum deep inside your cunt.

Your body goes lax, and you fall forward into the embrace of your husband, who whispers sweet nothings as he keeps riding out both your orgasms.

When Robert's completely soft again, he grabs a warm and damp washcloth to get you cleaned up before turning on the shower and picking you up to have a lovely shower together.

It was a sweet, lovely shower with lots of small kisses, extra cuddles, and lots of soft touches as he washed your body and hair, ensuring no inch of your skin was left untouched.

''You're such a good girl for me,'' he whispers in your ear as he turns off the shower, and a wide grin appears on your face at the praise from your husband.

''I love you, Bubs,'' you sigh as you turn around, capturing his lips again before drying off and getting dressed for the day.

''Love you too, Pumpkin,'' Robert says, placing one more kiss on your cheek before you walk out of the bathroom, ready to start the day.

It is a lovely summer day, and you opted to wear a red and white polka dot maxi dress today, combined with white sandals. Your hair is hanging loose around your shoulders, and you've decided against wearing make-up today.

Robert was already dressed and ready before you, so he got a head start on breakfast this morning, making pancakes and cutting up some fruit that needed to be used before it would go bad.

''Looking gorgeous today, Pumpkin,'' he says as you walk over to him, taking a strawberry out of the carton and taking a bite while you look at the pile of pancakes he has created.

''Breakfast looks almost as good as you,'' you tell him, earning yourself a chuckle from him. After one more kiss on his cheek and another stolen strawberry, you grab plates and cutlery to set the table for both of you.

''Shall we eat outside?'' you ask, and Robert hums in response, so you walk to the garden and put it on the table. You unfold the big beach umbrella so you can eat in the shade.

When everything is ready, you grab the orange juice out of the fridge alongside two glasses, put it outside, and sit down, ready for Robert to bring out the pancakes and fruit.

Before he sits down, he grabs a strawberry and feeds it to you, ready to make an unbelievably stupid pun.

''I love you berry much!'' he says, and you almost spit out the fruit as he says it because it makes you laugh so hard you can barely keep your mouth shut.

''My god, you are unbelievable!'' you say with a huge smile. ''But I love you berry much as well,'' you wink as he sits down, ready to indulge in the delicious-looking breakfast he prepared for both of you.

During breakfast, you two are going through all the ingredients you need to make dinner for tonight since some of his old Marvel co-stars are coming over for dinner.

Ultimately, you make creamy shrimp pasta with garlic bread and a salad on the side because that's always a winner when guests visit.

After breakfast, you load the dishwasher, and then you're ready to go, grabbing your sunglasses and purse before following Robert to the car.

The drive is short, but the two of you always love strolling over the market, and when possible, you try to go every week to ensure you have the freshest and most delicious produce and other ingredients.

When you arrive, Robert parks the car, and by now, you know better than to get out of the car yourself, so you wait for Robert to open your door and guide you out like a true gentleman, giving you a small kiss when the door is closed.

''C'mon,'' he says as he laces his fingers with yours, and the two of you make your way through the entire market, ending up with every ingredient you need for tonight and more.

At the last stall, you're taking a peek at all the flowers, enjoying all the bright colors that make it look like an ocean of color.

''You see some flowers you like?'' Robert asks, and you can't help but smile, already feeling he would get you some if you stopped to look.

''Those sunflowers look beautiful. Could we get a big bouquet of them?'' you ask the man at the stall, and he sells you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers that will be beautiful on the dinner table tonight.

''Thank you, Bubs,'' you say after he pays for them, and you're heading back to the car. ''They look stunning, and I'm sure they will look divine on the dinner table,'' you tell him with a big smile.

When you're home, you and Robert put away the groceries together, and when that is done, he grabs you into a tight hug because he has to make some calls for an upcoming project of his.

''Hmm, wish I could stay like this forever,'' he whispers against your neck, and his breath makes you feel goosebumps all over your body, and you inhale his scent deeply.

You always love how he smells, a mix of his cologne and him; it is an unmistakable scent that makes your knees weak every time you smell it, so you can't help yourself by taking an extra sniff.

''I'm gonna go before you snort me up entirely,'' Robert jokes and pulls apart, leaning in for a slow, sensual kiss that leaves your head spinning on its axes when he pulls away.

You steady yourself against the counter, and when he walks away, you can't stop the grin forming on your face.

Since Robert is working, you are starting dinner and dessert for tonight, grabbing your apron first and then putting your hair up with the help of a claw clip.

The first thing you start with is the sauce since it has to be cooked for a while in your slow cooker, and after, it's time for your homemade pasta dough.

When that is resting in the fridge, you take the opportunity to start on your tiramisu, the dessert for tonight, and not long after that's done, too.

Around 6 PM, everything is ready to go for dinner, and you need to add the last touches, which is good since everyone should arrive around 6:30 PM.

''It smells divine in here!'' Robert says as he walks in, greeting you with a soft kiss as you're giving the finishing touches to the sauce, ready to be served soon.

''Thank you, Bubs. Could you set the table? I'm almost done here, so I'll help you after,'' you say, but he looks at you disapprovingly.

''Pumpkin, you've done enough. When dinner is served, you can sit that perfect butt of yours down on your chair and let me handle the rest,'' he says, and you nod in response.

''That would be nice, thank you,'' you say, and that's when the doorbell rings, notifying you that the first evening guests have arrived.

''I'll get it, Bubs,'' you say as Robert finishes setting the table, and you walk over to open the door. You're greeted by Chris Evans, Sebastian, Anthony, Jeremy, and their significant others.

''Wow, it smells amazing in here, as always,'' Chris says as he greets you with a kiss on your cheek and a hug, followed by the rest of them as well.

''Thank you! We're eating Italian style tonight, so I hope you all brought a big appetite; I have enough to feed an elephant!'' you joke, and you lead them to the dining room where Robert just got done setting the table.

He greets everyone and lets them sit down, pouring them all something to drink as you finish dinner.

When it's done, Robert helps you put everything on the table, and just when you're about to pull out your chair to sit down, Robert is there first, doing it for you.

''Thank you,'' you whisper as you give him a soft kiss before sitting down and enjoying dinner with everyone. The pasta, garlic bread, and salad are gone before you know it, and everyone is ready for dessert.

''You can stay seated, Pumpkin. I will get the dessert,'' he says, and you gladly do. When Robert is in the kitchen, Anthony nudges you and tells you you're fortunate to be married to Robert.

''Honestly, I try to be the best gentleman I can be, but he is on a different level,'' he says, and you agree. You got lucky to have found Robert in this lifetime.

Not long after, Robert returns to the dining table with your tiramisu. It looks like a slice taken right out of heaven and tastes that way, too.

After dinner, everyone moves outside to finish their conversations and to enjoy one more glass of wine or other beverage. Still, to Robert's dismay, you stay inside to clean the kitchen and load the dishwasher again.

''Pumpkin, please sit down. You've done enough already, and they're here for you too,'' he says.

''I'm almost done, Bubs. I need to load the last few things, and then I'm all yours again,'' you say, and he agrees but waits for you to finish.

When you're done, he grabs your hand and leads you outside, sitting on a lounge chair and pulling you into his lap to hold you close by, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Before you know it, everyone is going home again, and after many thank yous and goodbyes, you sigh softly because evenings like this take up a lot of energy, and Robert knows that.

''C'mon,'' he says as he picks you up bridal style and walks you up the stairs and to the bedroom, ready to sleep together.

He sits you down on the edge of the bed, and he can tell how much toll this day has taken on you by the sleepiness on your face.

''Let's get you out of these clothes and into bed, Pumpkin,'' he says. You let him take off your sandals, dress, and bra before pulling one of his shirts over your head before you lie down, not worrying about brushing your teeth now.

Robert follows suit and walks over to his side of the bed, and you feel it dip behind you before he slides over and pulls you against his chest.

''Thank you for everything today, Pumpkin. I couldn't have done it any better without you by my side, and I'm grateful for everything. I love you so much,'' he whispers between soft kisses on your neck as it lulls you slowly into a deep sleep.

''Loveyoumore,'' is the last thing you mumble before the sleepiness pulls you under and into a warm dreamland. Everything feels perfect in your husband's arms, and you sleep so deep you even snore softly.

Robert smiles softly as he hears them, and not long after, he falls asleep, too, with you pulled close to him as the two of you fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

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allie-campbell-bradshaw · 6 months

Text

Chapter 9: Hurt

A/N: I am so glad to be back in the full swing of things. You have no idea how much I have loved watching this story develop…not to mention my craft too! I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Swearing (It is the navy after all)

Chapter Nine: Hurt

BRADLEY’S POV

The reading quiz in chemistry was a breeze on Tuesday. Although I must give credit to Trace for that one. She knew exactly what parts to study and which paragraphs from the reading would be questioned. It was like she had a natural gift for intuition.

Although there were some highlights, the rest of the week was a drag. Allie and her two friends were not in the cafeteria at all for breakfast that week. I couldn’t not blame myself for that one. Despite Emmett continuously pestering me for updates, I didn’t bring Allie up at all. Well, I at least didn’t bring her up first. And thanks to the rigor of the academics, it was pretty easy to forget her while I was focused on my studies. Yes, I still thought about the two encounters we’ve had, but seeing her less and not thinking about her as much has made that slight hurt go away.

Flash forward to Thursday, and we were now sitting in our flight training course, scratching our heads as we read, and re-read, and re-re-read the same problems over and over, not seeming to make sense of them. It started off pretty easy, with basic takeoff and landing calculations. Now, in the middle of this fifty question test, they were referring to flight gargan that I had never heard before. There was a scenario about a wing that made no fucking sense.

Natasha and I made eye contact with each other. She let out a deep breath as she played with the pencil in her hand, looking way more flustered than I did. Javy was sitting next to her, keeping his hands buried in his face, elbows on the table, as he struggled to get through the problem.

“Time!” Officer Tate called out in a military-esk yell. She was our professor for our aircraft interior units. We would work with her once every three weeks. This week we focused on the parts in the nose of the aircraft. She was a rather large woman, with skin deeper than Javy’s and thick black glasses. She looked to be in her mid-30’s, but I wasn’t ever good at guessing ages.

All of us put our pencils down right away, half of the class learned the hard way that if you kept writing after she called ‘time’, you’d get a 0. Even if it was only a split second after she yelled out to us. However, I feel that our immediate sense of ending the assessment came from frustration and overall just being over it, rather than her conditioning.

There were 8 of us in the class. Very small, but that’s what you expect when you go down such a specific, and dare I say not very popular, career path. The guy that has assumed the role of the class pet, Taylor or Tyler or Tyson (something like that) volunteered to pick the papers up, which Officer Tate gladly accepted.

Once Ty-whatever the fuck- was back in his seat, she gave us our next assignment, one that was due by the next time we saw her in September. We had to learn the names and purpose of every mechanical device that was in the middle of the airplane, right below the wings.

We were randomly put into pairs, everyone excited about their partner except for Natasha, who got put with the pet. She gave me an annoyed look before she made her way over to him, which made me smirk. She was the woman that would say what everyone was thinking. I loved it.

I quickly took her former spot, greeting Javy, my new partner as we looked over the work packet that he had to fill in. Over 14 pages stapled together, all of which had at least 2 or 3 different parts, or cords, or machines outlined for us to fill in.

Today was the only day we could do some hands-on work with the anatomy of the cessnas before we started to fly them next week. Amen! We all followed Tate to the oversized hangar that had 4 naked cessnas scattered about. All of the groups found their own to work with for the remainder of our class time. Javy and I opted for the one closest to the opened garage, letting the breeze hit our hot bodies as we looked at our aircraft.

I looked outside of the hangar, noticing the building on the opposite side of the runway. The words “U.S. Naval Academy General Hospital” stuck out in bold, slightly faded, navy letters. The outlines of the letters were covered in dirt and moss, confirming the older age of the building. It was a medium shade of brown brick, with a row of outdoor entrance rooms lining the tarmac. I remember hearing that those were used for general treatments for students that got minor injuries, not essential enough to take up any of the hospital rooms inside. The hospital had 2 levels. The bottom floor housed their emergency room wing and recovery wing from the surgeries that took place in the wards that were at the end of the wing. The second floor was used for the general hospital visits. Where people would go if they were in labor, or recovering from an illness, or receiving treatment.

“Fuck!” I heard Javy yell next to me, as he grabbed his hand and took numerous steps backwards from the aircraft. “Watch out for that powerbox by the fuselage Bradshaw. That shit’s super magnetic. Almost took out my whole hand”. He winced as he walked away, shaking out the pain that I’m sure was radiating through his body.

“Do you need a medic?” Tate asked Javy, who was pacing now as he waved his hand, having a hop in his step, in a shit ton of pain for sure!

“No,” He answered, “I’m good. I just need a minute”.

“Let me know if you need to see a nurse,” she continued, “they can wrap it up for you if the swelling gets too bad”.

I walked over to where he was and looked at the magnetic powerbox. It was resting right in between two other parts, with less than an inch of room between its parameter and those of the other parts. It would for sure take out anyone’s hand if you didn’t pull it away in time when it latched. There was a button that you could press below it, which caused the magnetic strips to give so you could easily take the box out of the airplane.

It was the powerbox that was outlined in the fourth page of our packet. I quickly turned to that page and read up on its performance. I was in the middle of the page when I froze, thinking about Officer Tate’s words: Let me know if you need to see a nurse, they can wrap it up for you if the swelling gets too bad.

Could it be this simple? As far as I could tell, this was the only way where I could ensure that I was in a room alone with Allie. She would be forced to listen to me then. And then I could explain all about the stupid bet, and how I just went along with it to entertain my moronic roommate, whom I loved very much. She needed to know that I was serious about getting to know her. That she was more than just a “bet”. I quickly made my way back over to the middle of the aircraft, ducking over and finding the space that the powerbox normally lay.

I kept contradicting myself. Always finding reasons for why I should or should not do this. This would all be a waste if she wasn’t at the hospital, or if another nurse treated me, and by doing this, I was risking my flight time for the rest of the month. I wouldn’t be able to work out as much as I nurtured the injury. But she was so worth it. Talking to her, and clearing my conscience sounded like a bigger benefit in my eyes. I couldn’t live with myself if she thought I was just a run-of-the-mill fuckboy. I was far from.

Suddenly, I felt Emmett’s spirit enter my thoughts. I have to give him credit, for how grossly immature he was, I sure was learning a lot from him. He taught me how it was okay to let go, to not be serious all the time. He was surprised to learn that my senior superlative was “Best Personality”, but I gotta admit, I was a character before my mom died. She would call me her “mini goose”.

Carole rushed to grab the video camera, laughing as 9 year old Bradley, who had put on his one dress suit, his wig that he still had from his einstein costume that he wore from halloween, and his moms black reading glasses.

“Hi everybody!” Bradley began, speaking to an imaginary audience in front of him, “Harry Carey here! And it lookth like we got a very exthiting world theries on our handth”!

Bradley was imitating one of Will Ferrel’s SNL characters, recreating the scene he had just watched with his mom a few days ago. He kept going with the scene, looking over at his mom and laughing when he realized she was filming, before creating his own skit with the character:

“And if you look over here,” he grabbed the camera and turned it to Carole, who was sporting a red sundress in the summer heat, continuing with his speech; “You thee a very pretty Carole Bradthaw!” Carole struck a pose and did a twirl for the camera. “I love you mom!” Bradley yelled out to her, still holding the camera on her.

“I love you too, mini goose!” She said before walking forward and reaching for the expensive equipment.

Bradley beamed as he went back to his scenes, spending hours and hours creating SNL skits in his living room as his mom watched, seeing Nick in his eyes, knowing how much he would have loved to do this with his son.

‘JUST FUCKING DO IT’ I heard “Emmett” saying to me in my head. If he was really here, he would have thrown my hand in the aircraft long ago, carrying me bridal style towards the hospital before dumping me at Allie’s feet.

Before I could even change my mind, my hand was holding the powerbox in the aircraft, letting the force carry me forward as the magnets snapped together.

#naval aviator #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #javy machado fic #rooster fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun #rooster imagine #maverick imagine #jake seresin #love strories #pete mitchell #natasha trace #natasha x reader #writers on tumblr

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madaboutmunson · 1 year

Text

Again - Part 10

Part 1 | Part 9 | Part 11 | Full list of Again series links

Steddie fic where Steve and Eddie are in their mid 30's and everyone has sort of drifted apart

Taglist: @adaed5 @grtwdsmwhr @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mightbeasleep, @jewellthebooknerd

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Steve returns to his food and tries to shake off whatever that just was.

"So, what exactly were you both up to on the court before I got out there?" Steve directs his question at Corey and Morgan. They look wide-eyed at their plates, then exchange a glance biting their lips back, and then turn to Steve. Bravely Morgan speaks first.

"Well, I was just trying to show him that he doesn't need to be the tallest guy out there if he's got a good team around him."

"You know what, Morgan, you’re absolutely right. Thank you. Though I'm sure it won't be an issue for long, Cor, you're only eight. You've got loads of time" Steve smiles hugely at the boys and looks pleased. Even though their generation seems to be in the throws of glamorising violence, extreme sports and derogatory behaviour, it was great to see two kids being kind to one another.

Mouth half full of food, Eddie speaks, "And how exactly did you do that, hmmm?" The boy's beaming faces turn to alarm, and Eddie turns calmly to Steve, "Vague answer. They're hiding something" Eddie pokes at his food again and takes another bite. Then, turning back, he looks between them, putting down his fork and steepling his fingers to his mouth, "Let's break this down, shall we? Something around height and other people…sooooo, ah, you threw him up in the air at the basket" Morgan looks very nervous again and is flanked by Beans.

"Flipped", Corey adds with a smirk, and Eddie returns an impressed eyebrow raise.

Steve puts his knife and fork down and says slowly, almost like he's trying to comprehend it simultaneously, "You were flipped through the air at the hoop?!" His hand rubs at his chest.

"Told you it would give you a heart attack" Corey laughs and shakes his head.

Steve feels awkward. Yes, the thought of his boy getting flipped through the air like a pancake at a metal hoop was terrifying, but he didn't want to seem like a complete spoilsport. Neither of them was harmed, and he guessed Morgan was probably only doing it to win over Corey, at which he had succeeded where many had failed. Steve feels Zee staring at him and turns to see a slight pleading look in her eyes. Steve swallows, "Well, you know, neither of you is hurt, so I'm not gonna make it a big thing. Just um, maybe something less risky next time, right guys?"

"Right," the boys say in unison, but one with defeat and the other with relief.

Steve turns to Eddie and mouths silently, "Was that ok?" He could feel the worry creasing on his brow. He knows how to speak to his kids but doesn't want to overstep with Morgan. Eddie looks at Steve with a sweet smile, and under the table, his knee nudges Steve's leg.

"Perfect", he mouths back, and Steve grins back like he won the jackpot or something.

The meal goes by with them generally chatting about school, D&D and music, mainly letting the kids take the lead on conversation until it's time for dessert. Eddie dabs his mouth with a napkin and asks, "Kids, think you can clear the table for dessert if we go get it? I mean, Steve did kinda do all of this."

"It's fine, really. It won't take me five minutes," Steve says, quickly reaching for some of the dishes. Corey slaps his hand away.

"He did a lot today, didn't he?" Zee agrees with a beaming smile, but not without a small amount of teasing, "Sure, why not, right?" She looks over at Morgan, who agrees immediately, which prompts a shrug from Corey, who starts piling up some plates.

"Onward! To the castle! To retrieve the dessert in distress!" Eddie booms, leaping out of his seat and tugging at Steve's arm. With a jolt, Steve follows him out to the motorhome.

Eddie pulls out the steps and opens the door waving Steve inside first. Ascending the stairs, Steve is quite unprepared for the beautiful aroma that hits him from a space occupied by one grown man and a teenage boy. Was that peaches? Once inside, Steve takes the place in, and guiltily he thinks this place is a lot tidier than he was expecting. Eddie wasn't gross or disgusting, but he was, as it said on the outside of his home, a hurricane. Steve remembers piles of utter chaos around his room in the trailer, and sure sometimes he might forget where something was and get wound up about it, but eight times out of ten, he could walk straight up to one of the said piles or boxes and reach in and find exactly what he was looking for. This place looked terrific, sure the teal furnishings were a bit much, but Steve could see that Eddie mostly tried to cover those with throws or cushions made out of band flags or crocheted material. Above all else, he's surprised about how roomy it was besides the narrow mini hallway towards the back.

"Wow, Eddie, this is amazing!" Steve says, and it's genuine, he always dreamt of owning something like this, but his life had been a little different in that dream. Six little nuggets instead of two and Nancy instead of no one. Eddie's comment from earlier repeats in his head. I'm really happy that all the choices I've made led me right here. Steve couldn't have agreed more. Eddie steps inside, too and shuts the door behind him.

"Sorry, old habit." He says awkwardly, turning and opening it again.

"If I got yelled at as many times as you did for leaving it open, I would always close it behind me too," Steve laughs, remembering, "How is he?"

"He's old and crabby, you know, like always", Eddie jokes, as he points to a photo hanging up, "That was his sixtieth birthday. I wanted to take him to see the Chippendales but his old man, Jack, got all uptight about it. So we had a meal out…and then I took him to see the Chippendales… in Vegas… the very next weekend" Eddie smiles fondly at the picture, "He's doing good for his age. It's why I don't like to stray too far from the remains of Hell-kins for too long these days. I know he stays there because Jack freaks out every time he goes somewhere new, you know. Sometimes he forgets who we are or when he is, and Wayne, gods love him, does everything he can to help him." Eddie folds his arms around himself and looks at the picture of him and Wayne, "It's diabolical, isn't it?"

"What is? Steve asks, looking at the picture. Wayne still had that sparkle in his eyes and that huge smile that was solely reserved for Eddie as far as Steve had seen. He hadn't known him long, but Wayne's impact on him had been tremendous. He made Steve think that along with the criminal track record, the other thing the Munson name should be known for is melting the iciest of exteriors and making people feel at ease. Well, on the right side of them, cross them, and they'd give you hell. Wayne was one of the few positive parenting role models that Steve thought about when dealing with his own kids. How he managed Eddie daily was nothing short of a miracle, but Eddie gave back that love and care in his own unique ways in droves.

"That destiny made him wait for his person for so long and then took him away in less than half the time he waited" Eddie shakes his head, "Always gotta be looking after something or someone, huh, Uncle Wayne?" he says planting a kiss on his fingers and gently places them on the picture. Eddie turns back to Steve and kicks at the floor a little, glancing down as he does, "He says hello, by the way." He says, looking up with a shy smile, and it's like something in Steve shifts again.

"He remembers me?" Steve says softly like he can't believe it.

Eddie snorts out a laugh like Steve's question is ridiculous, "Of course he does! His little Sunshine Steve? Christ, he wouldn't shut up when I told him I saw you at the library. Steve this, and Steve that. Practically swallowed the phone with the gasp he took when I said you had kids." Eddie pretends to be annoyed, but a laugh makes a smile break out across his face, creasing up his scars. Steve half smiles at Eddie and then at the picture. He always used to call him that, Little Sunshine. Even though when they met, he was almost a full-grown adult. Ah, here's the lil' Sunshine we've been waiting on he can hear Wayne gruffly say with a smile from the seat on the front porch of their replacement trailer. Even just recalling his voice saying it warms Steve's heart, someone older than him treating him with fondness, with a nickname he didn't even have to earn. Fond memories like that make him sure that Wayne is the most incredible grandfather to Morgan too. It's weird how you can know someone your whole life, and they just don't have the same impact as someone you knew for a blip of that. The time between Wayne getting a new place and Eddie leaving Hawkins was short a few months. Steve halts his brain from travelling down this painful road. They'd had a great day, and he didn't want to ruin it now.

"Would you say hello back for me next time you speak to him?" Steve asks tentatively.

"Of course, even though I'll have to sit through him going on and on about you" Eddie flails his hand in the air and then pushes his hands into his lower back as he tucks in his bottom lip, "But you'll totally owe me a huuuuge favour then, Steve" he sways from side to side a little looking directly at Steve now, "but I digress. The tour"

Eddie shows him around the Four Winds Hurricane. He's only had it a few years and got it at a steal because although it was only a few years old, some damage slashed the price. Luckily Eddie was able to fix it easily by himself. The kitchen has a full oven and gas stovetop, above it a microwave, to the left of that two small sinks behind them a refrigerator littered with notes, postcards, pictures and novelty magnets, and a small table with two chairs tucked underneath it. The snug hallway has a vanity area, wardrobe, and bathroom. There is a bedroom which is currently closed off because it's summer, so it's Morgan's space. He reassures Steve that he always gets Morgan a new mattress for the summer and laughs heartily. Then they move towards the front of the vehicle, where a sofa pulls out into a bed on one side, in front of that the driver and passenger seats, a TV in the centre console between them. Eddie sits side-on in the passenger seat and pats the driver's one, "Wanna try it out?" He beams up at Steve, who excitedly gets in the seat, "You wanna take her for a spin?" Eddie tempts him, and boy does he, but Steve doesn't really want to stray too far from the kids.

"Maybe next week?" Steve asks with a regretful smile.

"Sure thing", Eddie agrees as Steve reaches out to get a feel for the steering wheel. As his hands grip around it, his mind does that channel flip again, except this time he knows exactly what it was. He can still hear the yelling and screaming, remembering when they stole the RV with Eddie's help from the trailer park. He remembers talking to Nancy. Brain static. He looks down. He's in a jacket with patches and a protective vest and driving, but there is silence, which is worse than the yelling and screaming. His stomach sinks, crushed under the waves of dread. He looks over his shoulder and can see Eddie in the backseat. His scarless pale face emphasises his dark eyes looking out the window in trepidation. He won't look back at him, and Steve knows why.

Steve's driving him to his doom.

"STEVE!!" he hears suddenly and is jolted out of his memories. Eddie's hands are clamped on his shoulders so tightly it hurts, his eyes wide with fear. Steve blinks, and Eddie inhales sharply, releases him and flops back in his seat with relief, "Jesus Christ, Steve. What the fuck?!"

"Eddie, I'm so sorry. I just- When I- You know what, it doesn't matter, are you ok?" Steve thinks about explaining, but it will just make him sound insane.

"Oh, it matters! The last person that froze on me fucking levitated and snapped into a million pieces. Did you see anything? It can't be him, right? He's gone, isn't he?" Steve can feel the panic start to work Eddie up again.

"Listen to me", Steve speaks calmly, reaches out and puts his hand on Eddie's shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "He's long gone. This is gonna sound crazy, ok, but when I touched the wheel, my brain just took me back to driving that stolen RV. Some kind of memory trigger. I didn't mean to scare you."

Eddie's face relaxes again a little, but his brow is still pinched in concern. He's not looking at Steve. Instead, his eyes search some imaginary far-off point beyond the floor. "You called for me. I answered you, but you just sat there. Like, frozen." his voice trembles when he replies.

"Hey, we're ok. You're safe. Nothing bad is gonna happen, ok? I'm here. The kids are inside. It's all gonna be ok, Eddie. I promise," he says reassuringly as Eddie hides his face in his hands.

"Sorry, Steve. I just panicked, you know. I should have thought about it before asking you to sit in that seat." Eddie closes his eyes and sighs before sitting in his seat towards Steve, "Does that happen often? I know you get lost in your thoughts sometimes, but that wasn't the same as earlier. I was calling you for a while there," Eddie asks with concern.

"The dog normally helps. She can tell, barks, and it pulls me out before it gets too much. Before I got her, someone was usually around, you know. Jenny or the kids. In answer to your question, it doesn't happen that much, mainly because of Beans. It used to happen more years ago, and it's happened twice today. Earlier wasn't so bad because it was something I didn't know about, so I didn't think it was the same thing, but this was something I've recalled a thousand times. The detail is so strong, and it just sort of pulls me right back into it," Steve sighs in frustration. "I'm not making much sense, am I? God, I must sound insane to you" Steve rubs his eyes with his fingertips in frustration. He feels Eddie's hand on his upper back.

"Nothing you could say to me would ever make me genuinely think that Steve. Not a thing in this world or any other." Eddie says gently, and when Steve finally looks up to check in his eyes if he's telling the truth, he adds, "I promise," offers him a small smile and points at the window, "Do me a favour, pull those curtains shut. I wanna show you something." Steve eyes him curiously. "Don't worry, it's nothing lewd, Steve. I use it when I can't sleep cus of the nightmares" Steve pulls the curtains across, and Eddie gets the others and shuts the door, and the motorhome descends into darkness, where Steve can just about make things out. Eddie guides him to the little sofa by the forearm, "Sit down here and look up".

Steve sits on the sofa next to Eddie. The seat is large enough to have space between them, not that Steve would mind greatly if there wasn't. He looks up at the ceiling and can just make out the ripples of the dark fabric that he's now only noticed attached to this part of the ceiling. There is a click to his right, and tiny dots of light appear across the dark space. Then he starts to make out some patterns and lets out a happy exhale of realisation. It's part of the night sky, in miniature. They sit silently for a little while, and Steve feels his heart rate slow down and a fuzzy peaceful feeling swim over him. He remembers this, only this time, neither of them is drunk, high or both. It almost overwhelms him to know that Eddie uses something from their shared past to comfort him, just like Steve does.

"I'll say this for it, it's much comfier than a car bonnet or trailer roof," Steve says quietly as if to not disturb the fake stars in their pretend sky.

"Yeah, and I don't have to wait for a clear sky either. It's always here," Eddie says, and Steve can hear the smile in his voice. A few more moments pass in the dark and quiet.

"It was just cheap bourbon," Steve says, eyes still trailing over the lights.

"Huh?" Eddie almost laughs.

"In the decanter upstairs, it's not the expensive stuff. I tried that, and it tasted much better, but it didn't help", Steve adds, "So I went to find the cheapest bourbon I could, and honestly, it's disgusting, but it works" Steve feels Eddie's hand find his on the seat between them.

"Like we used to drink,'' Eddie softly confirms he understands, and Steve hums in agreement, pushing his hand further into Eddie's. There is another quiet patch before a solemn "I'm sorry I left, Steve" breaks the silence.

"No, please. I don't wanna hear that, Eddie. Don't be sorry for leaving, it really doesn't matter. Thank you for coming back," Steve says with a smile illuminated by the dim, warm white lights. He feels a squeeze on his hand and returns it. Then two squeezes which he returns again. Then an exchange of three, Eddie laughs gently in the subtle light. "Thank you for this. For everything, really. No pressure, but I'm really happy you're back, no matter how long." Steve manages to say the words but doesn't dare to deliver them directly to Eddie, so he sends them into the air above them, "We should probably go back to mine, though. We've left three kids in a kitchen by themselves," Steve says, making Eddie chuckle. He pats Steve's hand as he lets it go, clicks the lights off and gets up to open the curtains.

Eddie picks up a dish towel and opens the oven retrieving a very ornately decorated pie. The pastry lattice work on top is a beautiful golden brown adorned with other pastry embellishments made to look like leaves and berries. "Eddie, don't you have any oven mitts?"

"Yes, they're in the drawer!" Eddie says, shutting the oven, waving his hand a little as he places the pie on the stovetop.

"Then why aren't you using them? You'll burn your hands!" Steve says like he's telling off one of the kids.

"I'm a grown man Steve. I can stand a little heat from a pie, from an oven that wasn't even switched on," Eddie says with a bit of sass.

"Oh, is that so?" Steve says, putting his hands on his hips and leaning into his space a little, making Eddie grin. "Well, it will be pretty painful to hold my hand again with burnt fingers, won't it?" Eddie blinks and hurriedly retrieves the oven gloves from the drawer and puts them on. Steve smiles satisfactorily, and Eddie pretends to be really put out by the request, but the corners of his mouth curl up occasionally.

"We'll get the door for me then, Mr Health and Safety, or have I gotta do everything around here?!" Eddie says in a false annoyed voice, picking up the pie in his oven-mitted hands. Steve opens the door for him and lets him out first as they return to the house.

As they open the door, Steve can hear the kids deep in debate about something,

"Seriously, you can't truly believe that?" He hears Corey scoff, "Like, he's great and everything, but cool is not a word I'd associate with him. You haven't seen his dancing."

"I hate to do it, but I agree with my brother. He's the best but cool, no," Mackenzie giggles, "Is this something Eddie told you? Because I can tell you this for sure, he is definitely biased regarding Dad. Like, majorly!" Steve turns and looks at Eddie, who shakes his head and shrugs.

"No. He has never said anything like that. Well, not directly. I've got this book. I've had it since I was a kid. Eddie made it for me." Morgan starts, and Steve looks at Eddie again, who is picking up his pace towards the kitchen. Steve catches up to him, silently stops him, points at the telephone table, and Eddie reluctantly puts the pie down. "I was sick a lot when I was little, always in and out of the hospital, and he told me these stories a bunch of times. The main character in them was my favourite, and I asked him if he'd write them down so that other people could read them to me when he wasn't around. Well, Eddie, being the way he is, didn't just write it down. He made me a whole damn book. It's a story about a Prince. In the beginning, he's mean because that's how all the people in his kingdom are. Then one day, he meets a princess, and he falls in love, but she's not all she seems. Secretly she's a badass monster hunter, and unfortunately for the Prince, she is so deep in the grief for her friend that she can't love him back. So the Prince is horrible to her and banishes her from the kingdom. He asks his advisors for help when he realises his mistake, but they only know meanness and cruelty, and the Prince can see what a terrible place his kingdom is for the first time. The Prince knows that deep down, he isn't mean and cruel, but it's all he's known his whole life. He goes to find the princess to apologise, but when he gets there, he doesn't find the Princess. He finds her as a monster hunter trying to save a young boy with his brother. The Prince, seeing her with another man, is heartbroken and nearly goes back home to his kingdom, but he hears her scream and charges into battle. He finds a magic mace, and together they defeat the evil monster and save the boy. But that's just the first story. The Prince becomes a monster hunter too. He battles monsters and bad guys and, through the Princess, makes a whole new group of friends that they protect fiercely and save the world." Steve looks over at Eddie, who is busy looking around the hallway, avoiding his eyes, foot tapping.

"Ok, great story and everything, but what does that have to do with Dad? He's not an author," Corey laughs.

"Wait a minute," Zee says thoughtfully, "Did one of these stories have a super brave bard in it who looks after people in the village? Like the pied Piper, but he saves a whole town instead of leading all the kids away? I can't remember it all now" Eddie's eyes shoot to him, and suddenly the ceiling fascinates Steve.

"No...oh hang on, actually…there was a bard, but he wasn't brave, he was a coward, he disobeyed the Prince's orders, but the Prince saved him and carried him all the way home." Morgan says curiously before continuing, "But my point is the Prince in my stories is your Dad. Obviously, the monsters are a metaphor for something, maybe like bullies? I don't know. Your dad is a hero."

"It could be anyone, though, right? So how do you know it's our Dad?" Zee asks.

Morgan clears his throat and, in a theatrical voice, says, "For the Prince, despite the cold-heartedness that surrounded him, had glorious hair and handsome eyes of warmest brown. The gods themselves spilt their honey to give him golden sparkles in his eyes, so he would never know true darkness, and upon his golden skin, they mapped the stars, so he would never lose his way" Steve notices Eddie is blushing a little and decides to cut him some slack. He nudges him and points at the pie and then at the kitchen. Eddie gives him an apologetic smile, picks up the pie and walks into the kitchen.

"I don't get it," Corey says, and there is a slight clattering of plates.

"I do," Zee says softly.

"Get what?" Says Eddie, and Morgan gulps nervously at his sudden presence as he places the pie on the table.

"Oh, all the hype around Britney Spears", Zee replies quickly.

"That's not-" Corey starts before yelping as Zee rushes towards him, and he runs around the table back to his seat.

"Wow, this looks great, guys!" Steve says as he grabs a knife and a pie server from the drawer.

"It's a peach Melba pie," Morgan says excitedly, "it's got peaches and raspberries in it. I hope you don't mind Mr Harrington. I made a little batch of creme anglaise, or it's nice with ice cream too, or just on its own, well, if you like those flavours. Do you like peaches and raspberries?" Morgan rambles, and Eddie pushes his hands out before him, encouraging him to relax. Steve turns to Morgan with raised eyebrows and a smile.

"You just whipped up a creme anglaise?" Steve asks in surprise.

"Yes, sir. Only learned to make it this summer, and it goes really nicely with so many desserts. You can make it thicker, and then it's more of a custard like British people have, like the consistency of a vanilla pudding almost" Steve can see the enthusiasm on his face, all wide eyes, solid eye contact and animated hands, just like when Zee would tell him of her D&D escapades. Steve hands the utensils to Morgan.

"I'm impressed by our manners Morgan, but Steve is fine. Why don't you serve the dessert how it's supposed to be? I'm happy to try your recommendations," Steve says kindly.

Morgan straightens up and positively beams at Steve, "Ok, yeah, I can do that. Um, ok, so" he excitedly gets up and starts serving a pie slice for everyone. Zee seems to get the biggest and most decorative portion, "So, um yeah, you can try a bit of it on its own, and then I'll pour you a spot of the creme anglaise, and you can try that, and if you like it, you can have as much as you like." Morgan sits in his chair but doesn't touch his pie. His fingers tap together nervously as he watches everyone else. Steve tastes a small piece of the pie. Initially, he tastes the flavours he expects of the peach, raspberry and pastry, but then the layers start to come through the crisp, sweet butteriness of the pastry, the slight detection of spices mixed in with the fruit, and his taste buds are in heaven. Steve emits a noise of bliss that potentially should not be heard at the dinner table, making Eddie nearly choke on his food.

"Wow. That is really something else. Where did you get this?" Steve asks about to take another bite before a very pleased Morgan gets out of his seat, stops his hand before he takes another forkful, pours a little of the accompaniment onto the pie and stands back to watch him. Steve would have gladly finished the pie as is, he's still determining how this sauce will improve on the most delicious pie he's ever eaten in his life, but he tries it anyway.

Of course, he's wrong. The addition was perfect. The tartness of the fruit and spices burst through the creamy soft vanilla on his tongue, and it is incredible. He shuts his eyes a moment to savour it, and when he opens his eyes, he looks happily at Morgan, "It's good. Really good, Morgan." He moves around the table, doing the same for everyone else except for Eddie, whose slice Morgan covers entirely, and circles back to Steve.

"Do you want any more si-Steve? Morgan asks

"Sure do!" Steve enthuses, and Morgan pours a zig-zag over the rest of Steve's pie.

"That should be a good balance," he says, sitting back down to eat his own serving and putting the pouring jug between them all, which Eddie immediately reaches for, receiving a cautioning look from Morgan. Eddie huffs and goes back to his pie.

"I, um, I made the pie," Morgan says nervously, not taking his eyes off his plate.

"You did not!" Corey blurts out, traces of raspberry around his mouth, reaching for the jug. "You must have got this from one of those fancy bakery places. Like the one Val used to work at," he says, pouring the addition onto his pie. Steve instinctively goes to tell Corey off, but Eddie nudges his leg and shakes his head with a little frown.

"I'm totally serious, dude! I made it in the RV!" Morgan says back quickly.

"Did not!" Corey says, taking another mouthful.

"Did too!" Morgan rapidly fires back to a grinning Corey.

"You did not! I didn't see you make it, so I don't believe you!" Corey says and exchanges a glance with Zee.

"Yeah, for the second time today, I have to begrudgingly agree with my brother. We didn't see you make it. This could be from anywhere," Zee says with a disappointed tone.

Morgan points at Eddie, "He saw me make it."

Eddie looks at the pouring jug and then at Morgan, "Technically, all I saw was it come out of the oven. But, unfortunately, I was busy working."

"Noodling on your guitar, you mean?" Morgan says in frustration before looking at Steve with hopeful eyes, then just out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches Corey sending a wink to Eddie, and Zee giggles

"If it's worth anything, Morgan. I believe you, but to prove these naysayers wrong, maybe you'll just have to come back and make another?" Steve suggests.

"I could do that? I mean, yeah. I could do that! Then you'd have to believe me," Morgan says, questioning at first and then slipping into confidence.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to come back then," Eddie says, sighing, trying his best not to smile. Steve hooks his ankle around Eddie's under the table, and after taking in the initial cute jump of surprise he does, Steve goes back to finishing his pie.

One communal table clean up and two very heated games of go fish later, it's time for Eddie and Morgan to head home. Steve really should be used to card games getting out of control between his kids, but add Eddie to the mix, and it was chaos. At least Morgan was a small oasis of calm for Steve to smile over at whilst the arguments ensued. Steve wasn't sure how the goodbyes would go, but unfortunately, it was just a wave exchange this time.

As the kids are getting ready for bed, Steve hovers in the door frame of his bathroom. He isn't entirely sure why, but they always brushed their teeth together in his bathroom every night they were here. Though he could guess it probably had something to do with the amount of toothpaste, they'd get all over his mirror.

"So, er, did you enjoy today?" Steve asks. He gets enthusiastic nodding in response over the sound of vigorous brushing, "Happy for them to visit again?" Immediate nodding from Zee, a thoughtful pause and then a nod for Corey. "Cor?" Steve inquires, and Corey swills out his mouth to speak.

"I liked them well enough, it was fun, and the pie was great, but um…Ken can handle herself, I think. I'm just a bit worried about you, Dad," Corey says with genuine concern, and Steve tries his best not to laugh, "This Eddie guy, he's funny and cool, I guess, but he's not like you. He's kinda crazy, and I don't want him to make you big sad, is all. You know, like some of the other dates." Steve's heart sinks. He thought he'd hidden his disappointments well enough over the last few years, but clearly not as well as he thought. From the use of big sad, this is something Corey had asked Jenny and Val about. "But I know those kinds of things can't be predicted. Otherwise, people wouldn't try, would they? Everything would just work out forever," Corey adds thoughtfully, looking in the mirror, and that guilt creeps over Steve again about his failed marriage.

"Hey, you've got nothing to worry about, especially no need to worry about me. I can look after myself. It's only because you've only ever seen the Dad side of me you think that. I used to be quite the force to be reckoned with in my youth," Steve says with a smile at them both in the mirror, and Zee and Corey share a wide-eyed glance between one another.

"How mean are we talking exactly?" Zee asks cautiously.

Steve hides his smile, not wanting to let them know he heard them talking, "Oh, absolutely devastating", he says seriously, folding his arms, "Positively medieval", he adds as they exchange a gasp.

#steddie #steddie fan fiction #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie fan fic #steddiefanfiction #steddiefanfic #madaboutmunson #madaboutmunsonagain #eddie munson #steve harrington

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years

Note

Smut request about sex worker peter x mob boss Steve

Just for tonight

AN: Well, nonnie, this was a spicy ask! It rather got away with me to be honest.

This is absolutely over 18’s only, it’s basically just filth. And like a lot of my one-shots - open ended, letting you imagine what happens next (unless I feel the urge to write a sequel).

Also, Sex Work is work. Don’t like, scroll past and get off my blog.

Not Beta’d.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Mood board by me.

Please check out my master list.

Pairing: Sex Worker! Peter Parker/Mob Boss! Steve Rogers

Word Count: 5.2k

CW: Sex worker (discussions of and negotiations), Age Gap (Peter early 20’s, Steve mid-late 30’s)Explicit sexual content (Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex) light bondage, light degradation, spanking (once), size kink, pet names, aftercare, explicit language, propositioning, tiny bit of fluff if you squint.

Peter grabbed a glass of sparkling wine from the server walking past, knocking it back with abandon, the bubbles tickling his nose.

Why did I think that attending this party would be a good idea?

Almost as if she could read his mind, MJ sidled up to him, nudging him with her elbow.

“Relax Parker. You’re not going to attract any business looking like a deer caught in headlamps.”

Peter ran his eyes over his friend. She was wearing a shiny black pants suit, although sans shirt, the two button jackets only just covering her breasts, which she’d applied a light dusting of some iridescent powder to.

“I don’t think I’ll get any, anyway. Look at all the others here! No-one's gonna want someone like me.”

His brunette friend snorted. She was used to his self-deprecation, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

“Peter, you wouldn’t have been invited if there wasn’t a market for your look at this shindig. You’re the only certified twink here, I’m surprised that some Cougar or Daddy-type hasn’t already come over here to drag you away.”

Peter rolled his eyes. It’s not like he didn’t like his job. The hours suited him, fitting around his studies, he was his own boss, getting to pick his clients. He and MJ worked together to make a safety net, one always knowing where the other was, checking in before and after each job, and trying not to schedule jobs at the same time, in case an intervention was required.

He’d fallen into it by accident, after meeting a nice looking guy in a bar, who, after having received a blowjob in the bathroom from Peter, had stuffed a couple of hundreds into his jeans pocket, having just assumed he was a cute twink sex worker.

Peter had been a bit shocked and confused, but when he’d spoken to MJ about it the next day, she’d chuckled at him affectionately, revealing that he has been moonlighting in the industry for the past year, and if you did it right, made sure you were safe, and screened your clients, you could make good money from it, just like any other job. She’d helped him market himself, get into the local circle, as it were, and, so far, it was working out for him, although he still got imposter syndrome a lot. He just couldn’t work out what it was about him that people were attracted to.

He had a semi-regular client base now, a couple of older men and a couple of older women. They were all nice, and attractive, enough that it made his work not too onerous. They were respectful, albeit predictable, in their requests, and provided him with a steady paycheck that was helping him through college. He was in his final year and was considering a post-grad, but money was the key to that.

However, when MJ had told him about the event tonight that she had been invited to he’d been intrigued. Full of high-rollers, he’d have the opportunity to make a week’s pay in one night if he attracted the right client. She’d managed to haggle a ticket for him after showing the organiser a photo and then came over to his apartment beforehand to personally style him.

Wet-look, black pants that moulded to his legs and ass, black boots, a cropped white t-shirt, that was so baggy the neckline tried to fall of his shoulder, a bit of gel in his hair to highlight his curls, and a tiny slick of eye-liner - the very definition of twink.

“Anyway,” MJ went on, “It’s only been an hour, I bet the best guests haven’t even arrived yet. And also, they’re gonna want to talk business, or whatever this party is actually for, before trawling for entertainment. Just relax and enjoy the free booze and canapes. Remember, all transactions take place here, in our booked rooms, and nowhere else, no matter how much they ask.”

Peter waved his hand at MJ. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Safety first.” He leant over and gave her a peck on her cheek. “You go circulate and work the room. I’ll stay here and try to look brooding and mysterious.”

The next forty-five minutes passed fairly pleasantly. He leant against the wall, with an unaffected air, sipping on wine and virgin cocktails. He smiled at potential clients, and flirted a little, but so far he didn’t seem to be anyone's particular cup of tea. Well, at least he wasn’t stuck at home and, as MJ said, there were drinks and nibbles, so it wasn’t all bad. He was wondering how his friend was getting on, when a shadow fell across him.

Peter looked up.

And up.

Into a pair of azure blue eyes, filled with an equal mix of mirth and interest.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing…” A smooth baritone voice washed over Peter as he took in the sight before him. The man was tall and handsome, broad at the shoulders, and narrow at the waist. He had blond hair to go with his deep blue eyes. He wore a mid-blue suit with a white dress shirt. Looking the stranger over a bit more, Peter noticed a matching tan leather belt and shoes.

Peter returned his gaze to the man’s face, smiled, and placed his small palms on the man’s muscular chest.

“I could be your pretty little thing if you wanted…” he tipped his head to the side coquettishly. “Mr..?”

“Rogers, but I think I’d like you to call me ‘Sir’.

“Of course, Sir. I’m Peter, but you can call me whatever you want.”

“You got somewhere we can go?” The bass rumble of the man’s, Mr Rogers, voice vibrated through Peter’s body, going straight to his cock, which was very interested in these proceedings.

“I’ve got a room upstairs, all set up.”

“Excellent. Lead the way, pretty thing.”

Peter walked towards the elevator, swaying his hips and looking over his shoulder. He really hoped this guy could deliver on all he was promising, cos fuck, what he wouldn’t give for a really good fucking. God, all his instincts were screaming for him to give it to this man for free.

He caught MJ’s eye, where she was in conversation with a red-headed lady in a full-length, plunge neck, black velvet ball-gown. He smiled at her, and she nodded back, indicating that she thought she’d be up in her room shortly too.

The elevator came and Rogers crowded Peter into the small space, as the young man leant across to press the button for his floor. The man’s eyes roved over him in the harsher lights of the car, before bringing a hand up to brush over Peter’s pink, plush lips. A calloused thumb pulled down at his lower lip, and he snuck his tongue out to brush over the tip, keeping his brown eyes fixed on the blue of his client.

“Are you a brat or a good boy, Peter?”

“Which would you like, Sir?”

“I can work with your natural inclinations.”

The corner of Rogers’ lips twitched up in amusement and Peter took the opportunity to tease a little. He walked his fingers up the button’s of the crisp white shirt, and took hold of the blue tie, pulling on it to make the blond lean his head down.

“Then I leave it a surprise for you to find out then…Sir”

He brushed his lips over Rogers ’in a ghost of a kiss, and then ducked under his arm as the elevator door opened. His client shook his head, with a wide grin on his face, as Peter backed towards his room with an answering smile, unlocking the door with a practised hand and inviting the tall man inside.

“Take a seat, Sir. Would you like a beer?”

“What a wonderful host you are, Peter.”

The young man blushed at the praise and retrieved a bottle of Bud from the mini-bar. Having removed the cap, he passed it over and then grabbed some paperwork from the desk. He perched on the arm of the easy chair that Roger’s had sprawled in and held out the papers.

“This is my ‘menu’ for want of a better phrase. Please mark off what you’re wanting from me, cash up-front and please sign to say you’ve understood what’s off limits. I use the traffic light system and condoms are non-negotiable. If you want to add anything part way through, we’ll pause for a brief discussion and make any payment adjustment at the end.”

The large blond’s eyes roved over the papers, flicking up and down the list and turning over the sheet to see what was off limits.

“You sure you’ve never been a boy scout, pretty boy?”

“No, just sensible with a good mentor. Safety first. I’ll let you read through whilst I just head to the bathroom.”

“Don’t change, please. I want to peel you out of that sinful outfit when I desire.”

Peter pulled his lower lip between his teeth and gazed into Rogers’ eyes.

“Whatever you say, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Peter sashayed into the bathroom, before shutting and bolting the door behind him. He turned on the faucet and rested his hands on the sink as it began to fill, taking in deep breaths and mentally preparing himself. He quickly stripped and gave himself a wash down. He’d done a thorough job before setting out tonight, but just wanted a quick refresh. He brushed his teeth and checked his hair, before drying himself and popping his pants and t-shirt back on. He left his shoes off, certain that Rogers wasn’t going to be worried about those.

When he returned to the main room, he saw that Rogers’ had removed his suit jacket and tie. Peter’s paperwork and a pile of cash was sitting on the coffee table as the large man finished off his beer. Peter picked up the document and read through what was being asked of him. Steve wanted the works; oral (giving and receiving), penetration (giving) after preparation with fingers and mouth. He wanted the option of marking Peter with his mouth, carrying out cum play, mild restraints and mild impact play. He also wanted Peter to call him Sir, throughout. He’d signed to say that he understood that toilet play, blood play, and heavy degradation were off limits and that he agreed with the traffic light system. Peter added his signature too, then picked up the agreement and the cash, which he quickly looked at, and placed them in the room safe.

He turned back to Rogers’ who was looking at him like a predator eyeing up his next meal.

“Now that the formalities are out of the way, Sir, how would you like to start?”

His client spread his legs wider. “You can start by bringing yourself and that pretty mouth over here, doll.”

Peter kept his eyes on him, nibbling on his lower lip and swinging his hips as he moved the couple of feet back across the room. He dropped to his knees and started to run his hands up and down the thick, clothed thighs either side of him. He nuzzled his cheek against the soft fabric, and moved his hands up towards the tan belt. Roger’s kept his hands on the arms of the chair, but his breathing picked up at the sight of the pretty young man knelt between his legs.

Peter unbuckled the belt with ease, and unzipped the fly of the blue pants. The outline of a heavy cock was obvious through the stretch cotton of black boxer briefs, and he shifted to rub his face over it. There was a small wet patch near the head, and Peter sucked gently on the fabric, a sense of accomplishment running through him at the low growl the blond emanated. Rising up on his knees he took hold of the waistband of the briefs and pulled them down, revealing a cock which filled Peter with want, and tucked them under a pair of equally impressive balls. He could help but let out a curse.

“Fuck… wow.” Steve chuckled before moving one of his hands to tangle in Peter’s hair and draw him down. The young man took his client in hand, fingers barely meeting and started to run his tongue up the fat length in front of him. He placed open mouthed kisses over it, until Rogers tugged on his hair with more urgency. Making sure their eyes were locked, Peter moved his lips to enclose the large tip and started to suckle. The blond’s head tipped back on the chair and his large hand caressed Peter’s neck as he bobbed up and down, his hand jacking the lower half of the spectacular cock.

Peter worked himself lower and lower, until the head pushed past his gag reflex and he began to swallow around Rogers. With his free hand he started to roll the impressive balls, and when he had to come up for air, he took one, then the other, in his mouth. Rogers’ breathing picked up and with a growl he pulled the young man up and onto his lap, slim thighs spread over him. He pulled him into a deep kiss, moaning into Peter’s mouth, licking into it with his own strong tongue. All Peter could think about was how the tongue was going to be lapping over him later, and he whined in response, his hips rolling instinctively, his arms wrapping around the corded shoulders and neck.

In one move Rogers stood, lifting Peter as though he weighed nothing, and took a few large strides towards the large bed, before dropping Peter onto it.

“My turn now, pretty thing.” Peter lay sprawled on the comforter, and watched as his client divested himself of his shirt, toe-ed off his shoes and removed his pants and briefs in almost one move. Peter could feel himself salivating. The man was bronzed all over, covered in firm, cut muscles and a light smattering of chest hair that Peter couldn’t wait to run his hands over. Rogers knelt down at the foot of the bed, took hold of Peter’s ankles and pulled him down in one move until his ass was only just on the mattress. Large fingers then took hold of the top of his pants and peeled them down, leaving him in his cropped t-shirt a little red thong.

“Fuck, baby. You look absolutely delicious.” Rogers pushed Peter’s thighs apart, settling between them and pressed kisses to the soft skin of his inner thighs. His large nose pressed up against Peter’s balls within their fabric covering, nuzzling in and inhaling the young man’s clean scent.

“I’m gonna wreck you so good, sweet thing, and what are you going to say?”

“Th… Thank you, Sir.

“Good, boy.”

Peter’s body shivered at the praise and Rogers chuckled.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Just made my night more interesting.” He took hold of the small scrap of fabric and dragged it from the slim body. “Well, well, what have we here? Just as pretty as the rest of ya’.” He licked up the boy’s cock and then engulfed it in his mouth. Peter’s hands fisted the sheets and his hips bucked up.

“Fuck! Sir, oh god!” Rogers just hummed, the vibrations causing Peter’s eyes to roll back in his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on the receiving end of a blow job, let alone one like this. Large fingers gripped him, holding him still, gently but firmly. Peter could feel Rogers’ tongue pressing up against the underside of his cock, rubbing rhythmically. Whines and moans left his mouth.

“Sir, oh! So good, feels so good!”

Rogers let him go with a lewd pop.

“You like that pretty boy, you’re gonna love this.”

He threw Peter’s legs up over his broad shoulders then pulled him by the hips to press his mouth flush against his furled hole. He growled as he licked over the crinkled flesh, his tongue covering it in plenty of saliva. Peter was finding the sensations almost too much to bear, his grip on the sheets turning his knuckles white, unable to speak any coherent words. When the strong, flexible muscle speared its way inside him, he cried out, which only seemed to make Rogers’ double down.

Peter’s head was fuzzy with desire as pleasure washed over him. Firm fingers held his ass cheeks apart, the tongue was worming it’s way as deep in him as possible and Rogers’ nose was pressed up against his taint. Peter moved one of his hands to tangle in the blond hair that was pressed between his thighs.

“I’m too close, Sir… fuck!” He didn’t want the man to stop, but he was so close to coming. He could almost feel the reluctance with which Rogers pulled away from him, before the large man slid up Peter’s body, his blue eyes gazing into the younger’s brown ones as he pulled the baggy top up and over the mop of brown curls.

“Look at us, sweetheart…” Rogers’ deep voice rumbled and he directed Peter’s gaze down to where their cocks were nestled side by side. Now, Peter had never been insecure about himself, he knew what he had (purely average) but he knew how to use it (above average in his humble opinion) but next to the sheer size of his client, he couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated and a lot excited. A blush rose up his cheeks and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Fuck, that was going to go in him. His tongue peaked out to lick his lips which had gone suddenly dry. Rogers reached down with one of his large hands and wrapped it around the pair of them, jerking slowly and gently, and Peter bucked his hips and threw back his head.

“You like that baby? You like that I’m so big and you’re so small. You’re like a delicate little angel and I’m gonna ruin you so good…do you want that, pretty boy?”

“Yes, Sir, please. I want it so much.” Peter was so full of need, so full of desire, that he had mostly forgotten this was a job. He was so turned on and desperate. At his whimpered confession Rogers captured his lips again, deep and dominating. Peter was aware of the man leaning across him, having let go of their cocks, to reach the bottle of lube that was sitting, waiting. The snick of the cap was quiet, but the squelching sound as the blond squeezed some out onto his hand was lewdly loud in the relative silence of the room. He continued to kiss Peter as his slick hand slid between the boy’s thighs, massaging against his already slightly relaxed hole.

Peter gasped at the chill, before bringing his knees up and then letting them fall to the side, giving the man more access. He wasn’t surprised to discover that Rogers knew exactly what he was doing; he wasn’t rushing the proceedings, which Peter greatly appreciated. It was several minutes before the large man slid his forefinger inside to the first knuckle, and Peter moaned into his mouth.

“Sir…”

Rogers worked his digit slowly, pulling gently at Peter’s rim and working the rest of it in, thrust by thrust. Peter’s body relaxed around the invasion until the broad finger was gliding in and out of his welcoming body. Rogers moved his mouth to Peter’s neck, kissing and licking at the delicate skin. When his lips reached the boy’s collar bone he sucked hard, raising a bruise, before travelling lower and biting on the small, but firm pectorals.

“Ready for another finger, doll?”

“Yes, Sir,” Peter sighed. “Want all of you.”

“Greedy boy…” A second finger slid in beside the first and the fullness made Peter feel dizzy.

“So full, Sir!”

“Oh, this is nothing, sweet thing…” Rogers’ scissored his fingers, twisting his hand at the wrist and stretching Peter out thoroughly. The young man had both hands fisted in his client’s hair as the blond continued to kiss and suck and bite across his chest, and slid his two large fingers inside him. The pleasure brought by the third being introduced made tears appear in his eyes.

“You’re almost ready for me, my pretty boy. Soon, soon, I promise.”

“I need you, need you so much, Sir. Can’t wait to have you in me. Fuck…”

The wet sounds of the fingering were loud and obscene in the room, mixing with Peter’s moans and sighs. He whined when Rogers fingers slid free of him and the man rolled to the side to take hold of the small foil packet on the side table. He tore it open and rolled the condom onto his thick length. Then he got up, much to Peter’s confusion, until he reached the other side of his room and picked up his tie from where he’d discarded it. Peter’s eyes widened in understanding and he raised himself upon his knees.

“You still green, doll?

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“Turn around then.”

Peter shuffled around and Rogers’ gently bound his wrists together, behind his back. The big man then lay down on the bed and lifted Peter, so he was straddling the broad hips, and had Rogers’ thick cock nestling between his ass cheeks.

“I want you to use these gorgeous thighs of yours and ride me, pretty thing, but I’ll help you, okay?”

“Yes, Sir…”

Rogers slicked more lube over the condom and gave Peter a tap on one cheek to get him to rise up. The young man felt the broad head nudging at his hole and he started to bear down on it, bouncing lightly until it popped past the ring of muscle, punching the air from his throat. An answering groan came from Rogers.

“That’s it baby, ride my cock, work it all in, like the good boy I know you can be…”

Peter whined and writhed as he slowly worked himself up and down, the stretch and the overwhelming ‘full’ feeling taking him over. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt the prickle from the thatch of blond pubes against his ass, signalling that he’d managed to take all of the man.

“You okay, Peter?” In an oddly tender moment, Rogers pushed a curl out of Peter’s eyes, searching the young man’s face for any sign of discomfort. Peter just grinned at him though, clenching down.

“So okay, Sir. Fucking love your cock. Fills me so good…” He circled his hips a few times, before lifting himself up and then sliding back down. He set up a steady pace and looked down at Rogers from under his eyelashes, every so often bringing in a circle motion and watching the older man smile and groan in pleasure. The fat cock inside him was sliding over his prostate and he was damned if he wasn’t going to get as much pleasure from this transaction as possible.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief though when he felt those large hands take hold of his hips and start to help him.

“Look so pretty riding me, doll, riding your ‘Sir’. God, wish I could have you like this all the time. Ready and waiting for me. Dress you in the prettiest things, baby, show you off. Let everyone know you’re all mine.”

Peter was used to a level of possessive ‘in the heat of the moment’ talk from his clients, but for some reason Roger’s words hit differently. He could tell this man actually meant it, and god help him if there wasn’t a small part of him that wanted it too; to be kept by this man, be at his beck and call, whenever he wanted Peter to warm his cock, in whichever way he saw fit. His own, smaller cock twitched at the thought, where it stood almost touching his own stomach, tip an angry red and weeping copious pre-cum.

“You want that too, don’t you sweetheart. Can tell. You’re gone for this dick, aintcha? Gone all cockdrunk. Can’t even think now, can ya?”

“Sir…” Peter wasn’t even sure if he was agreeing, or questioning or pleading at this point. However, there was one thing he was sure of. “‘M getting tired, Sir.” His movements faltered as his thigh muscles burned.

“‘S’okay baby, I gotchu, I gotchu.” The large hands lifted him and he moaned at the loss of the cock from inside him. “Shhh, sshhh, you’re gonna get it back, sweetheart. Gonna fill you all up, till you’re cryin’ and beggin’ for me.”

Rogers laid Peter face down on the bed, then pulled his hips up.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He slapped both his hands against Peter’s buttocks, not too hard, but hard enough to leave pink marks and elicit a small squeal. “Fuckin’ love that noise too. Can see how that little cock o’ yours is leaking.”

Peter shivered and Rogers curled his large, warm, body over his back and breathed into his ear.

“This is it, pretty thing, this is where I ruin you, and the only thing you will be able to say, the only thing you will be able to think is ‘Sir’. You still good?”

“Still green, Sir. So fucking green. I need it, please!”

Rogers didn’t need any more encouragement, just pushed his way back into Peter’s welcoming body. This position meant he could drive himself deeper and harder, and he slowly upped his pace. One hand gripped Peter’s hips and the other held onto the tie, where it was still wrapped around Peter’s wrists.

“Fuck, taking it so good. So fucking good, baby.” He was like a man possessed, thrusting into Peter’s smaller body with abandon, each movement forcing a small cry or moan out of him, and then each of those cries seeming to turn Rogers on even more. His hands shifted, one sliding on to Peter’s chest, pushing him up against his own, and the other moving to take hold of Peter’s weeping cock. Peter looked down and saw it had almost disappeared in the man’s big hand, just the tip peeking out as he was jacked.

Rogers purred in his ear again. “You gonna come pretty boy? Come on this cock of mine, squeeze it real hard and make a mess of my hand, like the little slut that you are? You’re my slut, aren’t you, baby? Say it. Tell me whose slut you are.”

“Yours, Sir, I’m your slut. Gonna make a mess for you. Fucking love it…”

He came with a cry, clenching and jerking around Rogers cock, that was still spearing him. Shocks of pleasure darted through his slim frame, in one rolling orgasm, and his head fell back against the big man’s shoulder. He floated, only just aware of the final few thrusts into his spent body, as Rogers grunted into his ear.

Rogers gently lowered Peter down, withdrawing from him, discarding the condom into the waste bin and grabbing a bottle of water from the mini bar. Next he released the young man’s wrists and started to rub up and down his arms to ease any cramps as the blood began to flow properly again. He settled behind him pulling Peter against the warmth of his own body, pressing soft kisses to the boy’s spine and shoulders as he came back up. As Peter started to stir, Rogers cracked open the bottle cap, glad it was a sports top and held it up to the brunet’s lips.

“That’s it sweetheart, take a good drink. You must be worn out after being so good for me. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

Peter swallowed down the cool liquid and then blushed. Not all his clients were so good with the aftercare.

“Oh, no, that’s okay, Mr Rogers. You don’t have to do that.”

The blond’s lips turned up in a small smile.

“I was quite getting used to you calling me ‘Sir’. But I understand.” He stood up from the bed and started to retrieve his clothes. “Am I okay to use your shower?”

“Absolutely… Sir.” Peter shot him a smile that made Rogers chuckle.

“So now you brat. I’m learning a lot about you Peter.” He disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the shower, although didn’t shut the door.

Peter got up from the bed on wobbly legs, and grabbed his red satin robe from the wardrobe, belting it around his waist. He found his phone and shot MJ a quick text to tell her he was alright, and that he’d text again when everything was finished. He saw it was delivered but not read, so guessed she had her own client, maybe the red-headed woman she’d been talking to earlier.

“You all checked in then, sweet thing?” Peter spun around, feeling as though he’d been caught doing something wrong, cheeks pinking in embarrassment. Rogers had redressed in his suit pants and dress shirt, tie poking out of his pants pocket and he was rubbing his still damp hair with a small towel.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m impressed by how sensible you are. It’s good to take safety precautions in this line of work. I hope you never need them.”

He threw the towel back into the bathroom and moved over to where Peter stood, cupping the boy’s pink cheeks in his hands.

“You’re something special, Peter. And I meant what I said. I’d really like to have you be with me. Work for me. On an exclusive basis. I’d treat you right, I hope you know that? Get you a nice place to live, a regular wage with a contract, the whole thing. I’m not sure one taste is going to be enough.”

Peter’s cheeks got even redder, and he eased himself away, moving to put the easy chair between them.

“That’s… um… a really nice offer and all, but I… um… I’m good, thanks. Not really looking for that kind of arrangement.”

Rogers smiled at him, indulgently and moved over to the desk. He pulled a card out of his wallet and wrote something on the back of it, before propping it against the base of the lamp.

“Well, when you change your mind, just give me a call, sweetheart.” He swaggered towards the suite door and pulled it open.

“Don’t you mean ‘if’, Mr Rogers.”

“No, Peter. I mean ‘when’. People don’t often tell me no, and I have a feeling you won’t want to. See you soon, pretty thing.”

The door snicked closed behind him and Peter let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. He wobbled over to the desk and picked up the card. And then almost immediately dropped it when he saw the amount of money Rogers was offering for exclusivity. Maybe he had been right to be certain on the ‘when’.

Peter sat down on the bed to think. This wasn’t a decision he could make lightly. He picked his phone back up and saw his message to MJ had been delivered. He texted out a message to her.

Peter: Can I come to your room, I need to ask your advice on something…

Tag list: @mrs-mischief-209 @marvelstarker-mha98

#spidershield #sex worker!Peter #mob!steve rogers #late writes #answered requests #late to the party 81 #Steve Rogers x Peter Parker #sex work is work

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may-b-a-u-shewritestoo · 3 years

Text

The feeling is mutual | | Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader | |

A little fluffy 2 part series that I wanted to drop real quick to get back into the swing of things, I hope you like it! It feels good to be back but I’m terrified. I feel like a little deer in headlights! Feedback is most welcomed ALWAYS. ✨

PART 2

Summary; You’re both profilers, analysing behaviour and making connections. So why is it so hard to read each other?

Includes; mentions of sex, mentions of being on period, mention of serial killer unsub (if you know what movie i’m referencing then I love you), fluff! ✨

Word count; 1.2k ✨ (second part will be longer! this is just a little part 1 to see what y’all think)

“I literally want nothing more right now Spencer but I can’t.”

Stood in the break room at work, you mixed the sugar into your coffee and sighed at the very eager colleague beside you.

For a few months now, you’d been having a physical relationship with Spencer. No deeper or hidden feelings had been discussed, you guys were friends who had needs, and those needs could be met by each other. Nothing but trust, friendship and safety with a side order of good sex.

However, Spencer was usually good at keeping things subtle; he’d at least wait until you were both off and out of work to pursue things further. But not today. He’d clearly woken up with a motive. Which was apparently to be inside you by the end of your shift.

Unfortunately for him it was that oh-so-wonderful time of the month and as much as you debated it in your head the second you saw the dark desperation in his eyes, you were not in the mood for all the effort of cleaning up after. Especially not at work.

“You called ME last night, Y/N. It took all of my self control to NOT to get in my car and take you until sunrise.” Spencer grew closer to you, his attitude not remotely intimidating because of the whiny tone in his voice. He was right, you’d been particularly needy the night before; calling him up and breathily whispering down the phone in an attempt to get him to come over. But you both had an early start so you eventually changed your mind.

You just giggled and sipped your drink, misjudging how hot it would be.

“Ah you - stupid fu-‘ Immediately grabbing a bottle of water from a mini fridge below the counter, you took a gulp to soothe your throat.

“I’m just saying, what’s suddenly changed in 16 hours and 42 minutes that’s so drastic?” Spencer looked down at you, ignoring the entire hot drink charade, but having a genuine concern on his face for something else.

Rolling your eyes and standing up to speak to him properly, you took a hold of your coffee cup once again and attempted your most serious face.

“First off, I’m allowed to change my mind. Secondly, I got my period this morning and - no, before you even attempt to convince me ‘oh it’s fine’ I’m not in the mood. Now get your blood rushing back to the right head because I do believe we’ve got a case.”

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

The unsub was suspected to be a woman in her mid to late 30’s, using a technique similar to that of Ted Bundy and Aileen Wuornos. So far the team had deduced she would lure the victims with seduction at local bars in the area, pretend to be extremely drunk in order to attract creeps and when they took her home she would kill them.

The plan would be for Derek to go undercover at a bar that all the victims had attended and hopefully find the unsub. But first they all needed rest. They’d been working from 8am, after landing at 7am, and now it was 11pm.

Hotch had agreed everybody needed to recuperate and get together around midday the next day, as he knew the unsub would only be out and preying from late evening.

The hotel you guys were staying at was actually pretty luxurious considering the urgency and location. Hoping to share a room with Tara or Emily so you knew you would get some sleep, you grabbed your bags and headed up to see your roommate.

Keying the card and gaining entry with a jolly beep, you noticed it was still dark. Had you been lucky and scored your own room? Flicking the lights on, you let out a frustrated groan when you saw him sitting against the headboard.

A smug grin stretched across his face before it dropped back into that familiar pursed concern look.

“I didn’t do this to annoy you Y/N, I just wanted to spend more time with you. I can switch with JJ.” Spencer began to shuffle off the bed and you just tutted and put your bag down.

“No, stay. I’m not mad. At least not annoyed mad. I’m frustrated. But not with you. I’m just-“

“Y/N.”

Tiredly dragging your palms down your face, you opened your eyes to finally make eye contact with the poor man who was victim to your hormones.

“I’m sorry. I’m just miserable.” you walked around to the side of the bed where Spencer sat on the edge. His eyes followed you, watching your face in an attempt to profile whatever you were thinking. His hands came up to rest at your sides, thumbs stroking lightly across your hips.

“Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest? You’re tired, I can tell.”

“Don’t profile me Spencer.” you chucked lightly, your own hands coming to rest over his. He smiled softly up at you, waiting for your answer.

“Stay please.” Matching his gentle smile, you looked over at your bag before looking back at him. “I need to shower and then I’ll be right in okay?”

Spencer nodded and leant to reach just beside you, where his bag sat on a chair. You knew he was getting a book out, so that he would distract himself while waiting up for you; the one thing you admired and got excited about was falling asleep next to him.

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

“Do you always do that? I’ve never noticed it before?” Spencer asked quietly into your ear.

You were cozily tucked into his neck, one hand resting against his chest and the other squished between your bodies. Legs entwined with one another, you were absentmindedly rubbing your foot up and down along his. It was a comfort for you, you mostly did it to yourself when you were sleepy.

“Mhmm.”

“It’s cute. Are you anxious? Or stressed? It’s actually a very common limbic response to anxiety, it releases endorphins so you know, you’re essentially giving yourself a massage.” Spencer rambled onto the top of your head, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

“ ‘M not stressed. Not anymore.” you hummed into his neck, snuggling in closer than you thought possible. You could feel his pulse quickening slightly against your cheek, hear him swallowing with nervousness as you readjusted yourself; throwing a leg over his hip and latching onto him like a little koala. “Calm down Spence, I’m just getting comfy.”

“Sleep well Y/N.” He spoke so softly it almost lulled you into sleep. His breathing settled as yours did, the arm he had wrapped around your shoulder holding you tight. His other hand drawing lazy lines up and down your spine as he too adapted a comforting stimulation that was going to send him off too.

Spencer couldn’t help but think about how perfectly you slotted against his body, how much you felt like home. The sharp but sweet scent of your shampoo overloaded his senses and bypassed the oestrogen-filled attitude, the drop in energy and the rise in other types of tension. He would do anything you asked him to. But he was sure you didn’t know that. He was even surer that he wouldn’t tell you. Instead, he would appreciate the seconds, minutes and hours you spent together and let his mind drift off onto what the next day would bring him.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fic #fluff #criminal minds #feedback pls #i genuinely proofread this once and didn’t want to look anymore #i can’t remember how to write #so #i’m sorry in advance if this is gross #i love you all a lot #i missed you

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thekisforkeats · 3 years

Note

Ooh jm + shy kiss for the prompts?

Ohhh good one! I had to think about this a little and actually wrote up a bunch that didn't quite work at first. But! Here it is!

Set somewhere in the first few minutes of 160, in those weeks between arriving at the safehouse and Hazel Rutter. Featuring autistic Martin trying to navigate social situations because that is evidently what I write now.

(Incidentally the term "weak ties" was coined by a Stanford researcher in 1973. Link to the relevant paper. Credit where due, and all.)

(No beta no edits we die like archive assistants.)

It takes Martin a week to convince Jon to come down into the village with him.

If he's being honest with himself--and he's trying very hard to be honest with himself these days, so he can identify any Lonely-type thoughts--he really just wants to show off his boyfriend to the nice lady at the little shop in the village where he's been picking up essentials.

Martin is a naturally friendly person, or maybe a naturally personable person. This was not always the case; he had to practice a great deal to memorize all the scripts to smooth social interactions that other people seem to navigate without thinking about it at all. It can be horribly exhausting, just going to the shops. It's one of the reasons the Lonely appealed to him; how much easier to just move through life without having to recite all those canned lines?

Now that he's out of its grip, he's come to realize how much those interactions matter. He's been reading a lot on the internet about depression and social interaction, about social circles, and one thing that caught his eye is the idea of "weak ties," those people we're not exactly friends with, but who we see on a regular basis and who help us feel connected to a larger community. People who don't really know us and yet know something about us that helps us feel seen. The bus driver who gives you a familiar nod every morning. the barista who's prepping your order as soon as he notices you in line, the shop lady who tries to keep your favorite tea in stock.

So Martin is trying to cultivate those relationships, to feel part of a wider community, rather than just relying on Jon. He thinks that maybe if he'd had more of that, before, if he'd tried harder to go through the world being seen, he might have handled Jon's coma and his mother's death in some kind of healthier manner.

Maybe not, of course, but he's going to use any tool he can to keep the Lonely at bay.

At any rate, even beyond being very good at social scripts, Martin does genuinely like people, he's a good listener, for an autistic guy he's practically a social butterfly. And Elspeth is a nice lady, maybe mid-40's, the kind of person who runs a shop because she actually likes interacting with a stream of customers on a regular basis. So she's just the sort of person for Martin to practice his "weak tie" skills.

Because, naturally, one of the key benefits of "weak ties" is that they are the sort of people you get to be public about your relationship with when none of your closer friends are around.

Yeah, no, all of the above is just flimsy justification, if Martin's being really honest with himself. He's just madly in love and wants literally everyone within a 500-mile radius to know.

That morning, Martin makes a big show of how badly he wants to spend time with Jon, no really, but he really does have to go down into the village.

"We're out of tea!"

"I don't think we have anything for dinner!"

"But I really want to keep listening to you talk about Scottish history!"

And so on.

Jon gives him a tolerantly amused look, and Martin flushes. Is he that transparent, or is Jon just that good at reading him?

"I suppose I can go into the village with you, Martin," he says, eyes glittering. "Since you're so terribly interested in the House of Stuart. I'd hate to leave you wondering what happened to James II."

Martin would feel guilty, but he can tell Jon is pleased to be "indulging" him, and it's not like Martin hasn't been listening to Jon infodump about whatever random facts Beholding's been given him all week.

They hold hands all the way down into the village, and it's nice, to walk through the place and be seen, together. It's comfortable. They'd held hands on walks before, long ago in London, before the Unknowing, but back then they hadn't been sure what they were, hadn't managed to broach the delicate barrier between "friends" and "something else." Now, they're "boyfriends," and Martin keeps finding himself wanting to go up to each person he sees on the street and shout, "This is my boyfriend, Jonathan Sims!!"

By the time they reach Elspeth's shop, he's feeling a little giddy.

He pushes open the door and the little bell rings, and Elspeth looks up from behind the counter and smiles. "Martin!" she says, and Martin's whole body warms in a very pleasant manner, that this woman he's only known a week remembers him. "Oh, and this must be the elusive Jon." She gives them one of those teasing smiles people give to new couples, glittering eyes and amusement at the silly things people do when they're in limerence.

"Yes," Martin says, and suddenly the words stick in his throat. "Yes, this is... is... umm..." Oh, why has he suddenly frozen like a deer in headlights? Why can't he remember the right words?

"Jonathan Sims," Jon says smoothly, stepping forward to offer the woman his hand. "And yes, I'm Martin's boyfriend."

It occurs to Martin, all at once, that neither of them have said that out loud to anyone else. No wonder he's frozen up.

Elspeth glances at the burn scars on Jon's hand only briefly, then smiles--and it's a genuine smile, not one of those pitying ones people sometimes put on when they see scars like that--and shakes said hand. "Pleased to meet you," she replies. "Elspeth Douglas." She has the Highland accent, but softened; she spent her 20's and 30's in London, she's said, and came back to take over the family store when her father fell ill. The similarity might be part of why Martin likes her--that and the fact that it seems that helping her sickened parent improved her life.

"Ahh, yes. The not-so-elusive Elspeth." Jon actually flashes a grin, which Martin finds remarkable. Since when is Jon... friendly? Well, maybe he's trying for Martin's sake. If so, Martin very much appreciates the effort.

The woman behind the counter laughs, and says, "How can I help you?"

"Oh," Martin manages, his brain catching up and letting his mouth work again, "we're just here for tea and things."

"Of course," Elspeth says. "I'll be here when you're ready."

They turn away, to go deeper into the aisles.

"She seems nice," Jon says almost absently. "Shame about her fa--" He pauses, and frowns. Shakes his head, looking irritated. "You didn't tell me about that," he grumbles.

"No, I didn't. But thank you for trying to keep it in," Martin says.

Jon sighs, lowering his voice. "It's becoming harder and harder to separate what I've learned on my own from what Beholding gives me. How much of my thoughts are mine anymore? Did I actually memorize all those facts about the House of Stuart, or am I getting the... mental Wikipedia page, as it were?"

"Seems like a thing you'd know," Martin comments offhandedly. He's focused on figuring out what kind of rice to buy. He wants to try his hand at sticky rice, which really should have calrose, but Jon likes jasmine rice. Do they get both?

He doesn't want to think about Beholding, and how much of it is Jon anymore. He prefers just thinking about it as something like a smartphone app Jon can use without having to actually have a phone in front of him. He does not want to think about how much of his boyfriend has been potentially consumed by some kind of eldritch thing that feeds on fear.

He really doesn't want to think about the idea that maybe soon, Jon won't even need rice anymore, and will just live off statements, no matter how much he jokes about his partner's "eating habits."

Jon has been talking as Martin's been staring at the rice, but Martin hasn't heard any of it. He's brought back to himself by a squeeze of Jon's hand in his.

"Hey," Jon says softly. "You okay?"

In Jon's voice, Martin hears all the concern that Martin himself has been feeling. He forces himself to look at Jon, and sees bright green eyes staring out of a deep brown face. He realizes he's gotten used to the color of Jon's eyes; before the coma, Jon's eyes were brown, like a deep carnelian, and so large and dark sometimes Martin thought he could fall right into them and be happy drowning there. Now they're green, bright and disarming, and Martin's pretty sure this is why Jon still wears glasses he no longer needs, to hide those strange eyes behind plastic lenses.

Those eyes are looking up at him intensely now, and Jon's brow is furrowed, and his mouth is pulled into a frown in a way that highlights one of the worm scars near his lip, and all of it is adorable, but it's also disconcerting for the contrast between the softness of his voice and the intensity of his expression.

Is Jon as afraid of losing Martin to Forsaken as Martin is of losing Jon to Beholding?

Martin frowns at him for a moment, then sighs. "I just..." He has to look away, back to the bags of rice. "I just... don't like thinking about that. Beholding, and... all of it. I just... I just wish..."

"You wish we could be normal." Jon's tone is still soft, and filled only with love and no sort of guilt or self-recrimination.

"Yeah," Martin says, still staring at the rice.

There's a hesitation, and then Jon says, softly and slowly, "You know... normal people deal with these sort of difficult things, too. There's so much out there that can hurt people... the things we deal with, they're weirder than most of the rest of it, but..."

"Yeah, I know, Jon, I just..." Martin hunches his shoulders. "Don't want to lose you again," he finally mumbles.

Jon hesitates a moment, and then he leans in to give Martin a soft kiss on the cheek.

Martin flushes bright red--Elspeth's right there!--and turns to stare at Jon. "W-what... what was... that for?!"

Jon, too, is blushing. "I just... ah... I just... wanted you to know that... that I'm... here. You haven't... lost me. Or anything."

"Oh," Martin says. "Well. Thank you."

There's a moment where they just look at each other, and then Jon blurts, "...Can I kiss you again? It's just, I haven't all morning, and I really sort of wanted to spend the morning cuddling, but you wanted to come down to the shops..."

"Here?!" Martin stares at him.

"We can go behind the shelves if you like," Jon says, blushing furiously.

For some reason, this makes Martin giggle, and then he leans down to brush his lips to Jon's. Softly, shyly, as if they haven't been kissing each other all week, because he really is terribly aware of the fact that there are other people around.

"Tell you what," Martin says as he pulls back, surprisingly breathless despite how short the contact of their lips was, "let's finish up the shopping and then we can cuddle all afternoon."

Jon smiles up at him. "Promise?" The smile widens. "You're not going to drag me around to introduce me to every villager individually?"

"I was not--!" Martin glares at him, but now Jon's smile has become one of those shit-eating grins he gets sometimes, and Martin can't stay mad at him at all.

"You knew," he accuses, but there's no heat in it.

"I had a hunch," Jon says, humming. "I didn't want to spoil your fun, though."

Martin rolls his eyes, and then reaches out to take Jon's hand again. "Well, then, we'd better get to it. Jasmine or calrose? Rice, I mean."

"Both, I think," Jon says. "I find myself very much desiring normality of late, and rice is a terribly normal sort of thing."

#wow this got long #thanks for the prompt i loved writing this!#the magnus archives #tma #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #otp: one way or another together #my writing #my fanfic #writing #fanfic #prompt fill #season four

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tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

Can I request la squadra discovering their Fem!Teammate (who's like in her early 30s) is actually a mother, who joined Passione to pay for her 5 y.o daughter's hospital expenses, and she sometimes secretly goes to visit her and spend time with her.

Mother Mother

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic, SFW

Risotto has always kept an eye on his squadmates. It’s not that he would ever entertain the thought of one of them betraying him, even a relatively new member such as yourself. It’s just that with La Squadra’s status in Passione, he’s always feared one of you being used against him against your will.

It’s for this reason that Risotto became concerned by your twice monthly trips away from the base. Risotto doesn’t usually police his underlings’ activities, but the solemn look on your face each time you leave is cause for deep concern. Perhaps if you weren’t so secretive about your reasons, he wouldn’t have to go to the lengths of spying on you.

Risotto catches sight of your car as you pull into the hospital parking lot. There’s a definite weariness about you as you cross quickly towards the entrance. Risotto activates his invisibility and follows.

As you speak with the receptionist, Risotto is fixed on which department you will turn to. Are you sick and hiding it? Pregnant? But then, you surprise him. You turn to the children’s ward.

Risotto follows you past white corridors and waiting rooms. The nurses address you by name, he notices. It seems you’re a regular visitor. Finally, you arrive in a large ward of lonely pods. In each one lies a sick or injured child. He cannot ignore the fact that the one you head towards looks exactly like you.

As you caress the little girl’s cheek, Risotto comes to realise what’s been happening with you all these months. These trips, this sorrow, it was all for your child. A child Risotto didn’t even know you had.

Risotto leaves you be as you talk with your daughter. He feels guilty, undeserving of being present in this conversation. He’d always wondered how someone like you ended up in such a foul business as his, but if it’s really all for the sake of your daughter he doesn’t know if he can bare to keep ordering you on such dangerous tasks.

He can’t cut you out either, that could be detrimental for your sick offspring.

::::::::::::

Risotto goes home and seeks out Melone. It really ought to show the desperation of the situation he’s in that he’d fall on Melone for advice, but the strange man is the only person he can think of who might possibly guide his conscience on such a matter.

“Melone, a word please,” Risotto demands, swinging open the door of the other man’s bedroom. Melone hums and sits up from his nap, pulling off his night-mask to rub his eyes.

“If this is about the vibrator, I swear I didn’t mean to have it delivered here.”

“I- what- no. It isn’t about anything like that. I need your advice,” Risotto explains. Melone taps his fingers excitedly and crosses his legs.

“Oh, by all means go on then!”

“If, hypothetically, a person like us were to have… unavoidable other commitments, how would you say it should be tackled?” Risotto asks.

“Clarify.”

“Family commitments. Children, to be precise,” Risotto elaborates. Melone tilts his head.

“Capo, did you knock someone up?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t done anything of the sort!” Risotto insists. “Alright I’ll clarify some more. How do you think I, as this team’s leader, should support such a person?”

“…Oh, I understand,” Melone assures him. “It’s (y/n) who’s pregnant, isn’t it?”

“I… forget it. (Y/n) isn’t pregnant you fool. I don’t know why I bothered with you,” Risotto laments, shutting the door.

Melone, meanwhile, is unconvinced. Risotto’s defensive behaviour suggests to him his theory regarding your pregnancy may be right after all. This isn’t something he can leave alone.

Melone’s foremost concern is your wellbeing. You’re his friend, and he wants to make sure that your parenthood (should you choose to go through with it) is as easy for you as possible. There’s one person in particular who comes to mind when it comes to raising children in the mob.

::::::::::::

“Prosciutto!” Melone calls, entering the second-in-command’s bedroom as he enjoys a cigarette out his open window.

“What do you want, and what did I tell you about barging in?”

“Please Prosciutto? This is important,” Melone begs. Prosciutto turns around.

“Alright, get it over with.”

“Didn’t you say once that you raised Pesci? I’m curious how it was,” Melone enquires.

“I hardly raised him,” Prosciutto rolls his eyes. “His mother was a good woman, and perfectly capable of raising him herself, money aside. My role was mostly as a financial supporter and an occasional babysitter when my step-mother needed a day off.”

“Oh, I see. But how was it with Passione? How did you balance your commitments between them and family?”

“I’m not a fan of this line of questioning, Melone, but I’ll indulge you. It was hard, very hard. They made me join when Pesci was 6 and back even then they constantly held his life over my head. I couldn’t spend too much time with him for fear of seeming disloyal, but at the same time I feared what would happen if I turned my back too long.”

“Christ,” Melone exclaims. “That’s rough. I never knew it was that bad for you.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all for now?” Prosciutto asks, cocking an eyebrow. Melone swallows.

“Well… I think (y/n) might be pregnant.”

“…What?!”

::::::::::::

“So that’s why we’re suspicious,” Prosciutto finishes. Formaggio stares at them wide-eyed.

“Fucking hell. I knew something was up, but pregnancy?” he exclaims.

“It’s serious, we know,” Melone affirms. “Risotto isn’t letting up so we need you to help us be certain. I’ve got all your DNA on record-”

“Creepy.”

“Regardless, I’ve got hers up on the tracker now, and I need you to take Baby Face and follow the dot until you find its location. Baby Face doesn’t show place names. If you’re spotted, you can shrink down, so it’s better you go than us. Got it?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go,” Formaggio agrees, picking up the laptop and standing. “I’ll ring if I find anything.”

::::::::::::

Sure enough, 30 minutes later, Formaggio finds something. A hospital to be precise. He looks down at his screen, and back at the hospital. Nope, everything still checks out. There is no possible way the dot could be anywhere other than inside that building when it’s that close. You’re in there. You are in the hospital. Pregnant, near certainly.

Formaggio’s had enough shocks for one day.

Turning tail, Formaggio half-runs back down the pavement towards the base. He fumbles for his phone and calls Prosciutto. No answer. Thinking fast (but not well) he hits the next number in the list. Illuso’s.

“Illuso hi. It’s Formaggio! She’s definitely at the hospital like we thought!”

“…Are you high?”

“Oh fuck, did you not know? (Y/n)’s pregnant and Mel just found out!” Formaggio fills him in. There’s a long pause.

“Holy fucking shit! Get back here now and tell me more!”

::::::::::::

Shortly after this, the sitting room of the La Squadra base finds itself crowded with Melone, Prosciutto, Formaggio and Illuso all in frenzied discussion.

“This is insane. We can’t have a baby! In the hitman squad!” Illuso decries.

“We’re not recruiting the kid!” Melone reminds him.

“That’s not the point!” Prosciutto protests. Formaggio puts his hands up in a show of peace

“Okay okay can everyone please-”

“I AM CALM!”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS SHOUTING ABOUT?!” A voice calls. It’s Ghiaccio, standing in the hallway with Pesci at his side. The four men in the lounge look between each other nervously. Formaggio steps forwards.

“Ghiaccio, Pesci… let me fill you in on some things.”

::::::::::::

“RISOTTO WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU TELL US ABOUT THIS SOONER!”

Risotto Nero has seen a lot in his days, but never before has he had his office door kicked down by one of his own teammates, while in mid-conversation with two others.

“…Ghiaccio I beg your pardon.”

“(Y/n) was pregnant and you didn’t tell us about it?” Pesci says. “I was on a mission with her just last night! I could have done more to protect her if I’d known!”

“Risotto, I know you like to respect our privacy, but this is serious! If (y/n) is going to have this child then we need to have discussions about how it’s going to be feasible now. As a team,” Prosciutto argues. Risotto blinks.

“Capo, what on earth is going on?” Sorbet asks from by the window. Gelato, having clung onto him since the door fell, continues to look at the crowd in the doorway like… well, like they just busted the office door down.

Risotto takes a sip of his coffee, and sighs.

“I think you all may be under a severe misapprehension.”

::::::::::::

You get back to the base around 4pm, severely exhausted both emotionally and physically. Your daughter is stable, you’re assured, and clearly in better spirits than your last visit. With continued treatment, the doctor sees her out of the hospital and living comfortably with only minor supports within the year. But the bill to get her to that point will not be cheap. You honestly don’t know how you’ll manage it.

As you hang up your coat you are met with visitors. Sorbet and Gelato would like to speak with you, it seems.

“We’re glad to see you’re back. Could you follow us please? It won’t take a minute,” Gelato requests.

“Okay?” you agree, following them into the sitting room. Your entire team is present in dead silence, with Risotto at the helm in his usual chair. He is looking grave. This can’t be good.

Risotto gestures for you to sit down. You comply.

“(Y/n),” he begins. “We know about your daughter.”

Everything seems to go still. You cannot help it as tears well in your eyes. Before you know, you are crying in front of your teammates.

“We are willing to give some help,” Risotto announces. You look up from your tears. Did he just…

“We did some maths and we calculated that if we all pool together, we can pay half your daughter’s monthly bill every month for the immediate future, without any major changes to our lifestyle,” Sorbet announces. “We’re all happy to do that,” he adds, to a chorus of nods around the room.

“Additionally, we can look into getting her case transferred to a doctor on Passione’s payroll. It will be the same quality care or higher, and at a significant discount,” Melone suggests. Oh fuck, why didn’t you ever think of that?

“You would… you would all really do that for me?” you sob.

“And if it still isn’t enough, we’ll find a way. You can rely on us to help you, I swear it,” Risotto promises.

“Thank you… thank you all so much!”

#la squadra #la squadra x reader #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #formaggio x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #pesci #pesci x reader #melone #melone x reader #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader #sorbet and gelato #sorbet and gelato x reader

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Babylon (l.h)

End Up Here -Part 5

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x 5sos! Fem! Reader

Summary: A lot has happened and too many things were left unsaid. Even after a month they still find ways to be in each others mind.

Warnings: Angst and smut. Mentions of vioence, physical abuse, mental abuse, sexual abuse, harassment, cheating, fighting, sexism, frustrations, alcohol. Language and some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count : 10.1 k

Author’s Note: I cried a lot writing this, so I’m sorry. Final Part coming up March 16th! Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

Liked by banksmadden, 5soslover55 and 1,750,316 others

yn5sos how did I end up here?

View all 55,432 comments

ashtonirwin who’s there with you?

hater7 pathetic

ynfan2 LEAVE HER ALONE PLEASE

5sosfan9 this is so irresponsible. I thought you were better.

↪️ yn5sos me too

“OUT OF CONTROL: Singer Y/N L/N seeing partying once again after the concert. L/N was last seen with a crowd of people, none of which were her bandmates”

“Sensitive, are we? On their last concert, Y/N L/N from the band 5 Seconds of Summer was caught running away from the stage mid-show, leaving her poor bandmates Calum Hood and Michael Clifford to finish the song for her. L/N came back minutes later to finish the show. Videos show the singer crying along to the love songs”

“5SOS BREAKING UP? SINGER Y/N L/N GOING M.I.A ON BAND’S SOCIAL MEDIA LEAVES FANS CONFUSED AND WORRIED”

“Y/N?!” Ashton kept banging at the door. His patience ran thin as the girl refused to answer “Y/N! C’mon!”

“She’s still not answering?” A voice called behind him.

Calum and Michael were already dressed up, ready for another day of interviews in a foreign language. Ashton assumed that the girls were already downstairs waiting for them.

The older man shook his head, frustration clear on his face as he kept banging on the door like it was his drums.

“Y/N, I will break down the door if you don’t open it!”

It wasn’t an empty promise. They could pay the hotel after but he’d be damned if something happens to Y/N.

She hasn’t been herself since Luke left. When they came back from doing promo that day they were met with the news of him leaving. Y/N didn’t leave her room that whole day.

They were mad, furious even, with Luke. All the things they warned him about were thrown down the drain. They told them not to believe the media and to talk to Y/N but he did none of those things, he only made it worse for all of them, especially the girl who was now spending half the tour absent-minded over heartbreak.

She told them several times that she was fine “I asked him to leave” She would say. But they know better than to believe her right away when she says those stuff, not after that night when she told them the truth about Madden. They swore never to make that mistake again, but history was repeating itself! Only this time it was ten times worse.

Y/N would go out every night after the show, no matter in which part of the world they found themselves in. She was determined to drown herself in alcohol rather than self-pity. They tried to spot her several times but she wouldn’t listen, so they agreed that at least one of them would accompany her whenever she went out just to make sure that she is safe and that she doesn’t go too far.

Last night, however, it was Michael’s turn but Beth felt sick so he couldn't go. He texted Calum, but he was already asleep so he didn’t see the message. Ashton was out with Dani for a date night and when he came back he found Michael in the lobby asking for some medicine for Beth’s stomach and when Calum answered their call with a sleepy voice they realized that Y/N was alone.

And now she wouldn’t answer the door.

“Y/N, I swear to God!”

“Why do you gotta bring the lord into this?”

The three men turned around and found Y/N standing next to them. Her hair was messy and her makeup was smudged, but his eyes remained empty as she looked at them quizzically.

“Were you already downstairs this whole time?!” Ashton asked, raising his voice. Y/N cringed as she shushed him.

“Ugh, could you talk any louder? My head is killing me”

Calum looked at his friend up and down, realizing what was happening “You just came back, didn’t you?”

All three of them turned their heads to her, unable to believe what was in front of them. This wasn’t the Y/N they knew. She was never like this, ever.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the sad, angry, and pitiful looks of her friends. She didn’t need to answer what was obvious.

“Where were you all this time?” Michael asked “We were worried sick”

“Wow, thanks dad,” She said with sarcasm, walking towards her door as she tried to find her key somewhere along with her pockets “I was at the bar. Did you know they open 24 hs? There’s no such thing as the last call here! I love this country”

She let out a little squeal of joy when she finally found her key, pushing Ashton out of the way with the side of her body as she inserted it on the lock.

“We have an interview in 30 minutes!” He reminded her.

“Yeah, your girl told me that downstairs” She answered before she started to close the door “Have fun with that”

But before she could close it completely, Ashton’s foot got in the way.

“You can’t keep doing this, Y/N,” He said with a serious tone, ignoring the pain of the door hitting his foot, still trying to close on him.

Y/N pushed a little harder “I want to sleep, Ashton. Good night”

“No! Goddammit, Y/N. This has gone too far!”

She opened the door, making Ashton trip, and almost fell to the floor in front of her. She was beyond pissed as she began to talk.

“No! Everything has already gone too far, I’m just catching up!” She spat loudly, making the boys look at her in surprise “Madden went too far, the media went too far, the industry went too far and Luke went too far. And I let them crash into me like I’m just a bystander, waiting to pick up the pieces they left of me! So excuse me for finally doing whatever they thought I did. Forgive me for catching up to this fucked up world and finally live up to their false expectations! But I’m not allowed to break down, not right now and probably not ever! So I will keep running. Maybe that way, if I catch up, they’ll leave me the fuck alone” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke, but she will not cry in front of them. Not anymore “So, good fucking night”

Ashton closed his eyes when he felt the wind of the door slamming inches away from his face. He raised his hand to knock again, but soon he let it fall with a sigh.

He turned around to face the guys and they all had the same hurt expression, not because she hurt them, but because she was hurting herself. They all thought she was doing it unconsciously, but now it was rather obvious that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Y/N is destroying herself because there’s almost nothing left of her. So she’s speeding up the process.

“We can’t leave her like that” Michael said in a whisper, none of them were looking at the door right now, all their eyes were set on the floor as they contemplated their options.

“Well, she doesn’t want to see us. That’s for fucking sure” Calum murmured.

The three men stood in silence in the hallway. Breathing heavily from time to time as their minds tried to find a way to reach out to Y/N before it was too late.

“We have to do something” Michael broke the silence again, fidgeting with his fingers as he met the worried eyes of his two best friends “The fans are already saying that she’s going to leave the band and-“

“No,” Ashton interrupted him, clenching his jaw as the headlines of the articles ran through his mind “We are not letting that happen”

“But what if she wants to?”

“Then that’s not our Y/N/N,” He said “And I refuse to lose her this way or in any way, for that matter”

After a few minutes, it was clear that Y/N was not coming out of her room any time soon. So the boys had to get downstairs to get to the interviews, already thinking about excuses to justify her absence once again.

They wanted to stay with her, but management was already being too hard on them as it is, and they didn’t want Y/N to pay the consequences if they didn’t show up to at least one promo interview. So they had no choice but to leave her alone in her room.

Once the elevator doors opened, the three of them were met with the worried eyes of their girlfriends who quickly met up with them halfway.

“How is she doing? She didn’t speak to us when she came through the doors” Bethany explained as she stood next to Michael, grabbing his hand in comfort.

Ashton just shook his head.

“We talked,” Kat said with a sigh “We decided that we are staying here with her”

“What?”

“You’ll be fine in the interviews without us, but she needs someone. Even if we just wait for her in the lobby all day. Someone needs to check up on her” Kat continued.

“She’s lonely,” Danielle followed, “Even if she doesn’t want to admit it. She’s hurting too much for words to even describe”

The boys knew they were right. Even if Y/N doesn’t want to, they will still be there for her every step of the way. They were not going to leave her to drown.

“Thank you,” Ashton said, truthfully “But there’s gotta be something else we could do for her… just standing by and keeping an eye on her while she wastes away is just…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, he didn’t need to. They all knew what he was referring to; that damn feeling of helplessness and hopelessness.

“We’ll figure something out,” Calum said confidently “We are not going to give up on her”

There was nothing much to do back in L.A. as Luke found out when he stepped out of the plane almost a month ago. His life has completely changed since he met her and now… Now she was gone and he was left with nothing.

It was his own fault, that’s what he reminded himself every single day since the morning Y/N asked him to leave. He acted on emotions rather than with reason, angry with the world that allowed him to get close to her just to rip her out of his hands the moment he realized his mistakes. He should’ve listened, should’ve fought, should’ve stayed. He should’ve done a lot of things and now he doesn’t even have the chance to fix it.

He hasn’t checked anything about Y/N since he came back. No articles, no tweets, no posts… nothing. He feels as if he didn’t have the right anymore. He never had the right to do it from the beginning, not without letting them fill his brains with lies that eventually left him in pieces.

How could he? How could he let all those things get to him? Everyone told him to ignore them, not to believe the lies that were written for the clicks and the gossip. He knew the truth, he lived with it, and yet, he had turned on her the second it had become too much.

Y/N was a private person and Luke could never understand why. Why if she was so private with her life did every news article write about her? They were all lies. And if he had at least an ounce of decency he would’ve realized that sooner and stand by her side instead of siding with the media. Yet, those thoughts were sticking with him at the back of his head, haunting him even in his sleep.

How easy it was for him to turn away from her. How easy it was for him to leave her. But how hard it was to ignore the love he feels for her, knowing that she won’t take him back and with good reason. Y/N deserves better, in every way, shape, or form. She was such a bright light in such a dark world, and he just hopes she will be strong enough to see it someday, even if he’s not by her side anymore.

God, he was just a fucking idiot.

And now, as he walked past the coffee shop where they first met while he fought the urge to cry again, he was willing to beat himself up for it. For losing the only person he cared about just because he wasn’t brave enough to fight for her as he should’ve. There wasn’t anything that didn’t remind him of Y/N, nothing he could do to shake the self-inflicted pain he caused, so he thought better than to let it consume him.

Luke sat on an empty bench near the campus, his classes didn’t start until a month from today but he longed for some kind of distraction. Once he settled, he took out his notebook and started writing. He doesn’t write about love anymore, rather he wrote about the loss of it while still mourning it fresh on the flesh. Finally understanding what Ashton meant when he said that heartbreak breaks you, and, for a moment, he thought about how she might feel at this moment; if she, at least once, thought of him with something wasn’t hate.

He spent hours sitting outdoors, writing as if his time were to end at any moment. He wrote letters of forgiveness, poems of grief, and free thoughts of the guilt he was feeling. He didn’t mention her, but they were all about and for her. For his Y/N who was now a world away and who he will not call his ever again.

It must’ve been late when his phone started to ring; the streetlights were starting to lit up the pavement as the sun started to set, leaving soft shades of pink and purple to cover up the sky. He didn’t know the number, so he let it ring thinking it might be just one company trying to sell him something he didn’t need.

But the unknown caller was relentless; calling and calling until Luke decided to answer after the fourth time.

“Hello?” He said, annoyed by the interruption. He didn’t want to talk to anyone; not like he had anyone to talk to, after all.

“You fucker” The voice at the other end said. Luke froze when he recognized it.

“A-Ashton?”

“Were you expecting the fucking queen?” He sounded angry and even through the phone he left Luke completely intimidated as he sunk into his seat.

“How - Whose number is this?” Luke asked, knowing he had all their numbers saved in his phone.

“Would you have answered if you saw my name on the screen?” He wouldn’t, they both know it. But at the same time…

“Why are you calling me?” He finally muttered, his head wrapped around the only reason Ashton, out of all people, would be calling him. He knew it was not to catch up “Is Y/N okay?! Did something happen to her?!”

Something must be terribly wrong if Ashton was calling him. That man was very protective over his best friend and Luke was sure he would’ve killed him if he found him the day where he yelled at her, knowing that Y/N must’ve told him everything. He knew Y/N was not going to forgive him and neither will the boys for that matter. That day he lost more than just his girl.

Ashton laughed without any kind of humor “No, she’s not. Of course, she’s not! You happened to her, mate. I don’t know what the fuck you did but she hasn’t been the same since you left.”

Luke’s eyes widened “She didn’t tell you?”

If he thought about it, it really wasn’t that surprising. Y/N never talked about her problems with him, but the boys always knew everything, them being the only people she knew she could trust with her whole heart. Luke had always been jealous of that, but once he found out the truth of why she kept some things for herself he understood why she could only trust her bandmates with it. He immediately thought that she would tell them everything, every word he said and the hateful words he wrote, but she didn’t and that could not mean anything good.

“She told us enough. That you believed the lies of her and Madden and didn’t let her explain before you lashed out and she asked you to leave. Not a single detail about it, only that you were gone and were not coming back. I guess she didn’t want us to kick your ass, but Luke, you better be certain that-”

“I know!” Luke said with a sigh “I deserve it”

“Dude, what the fuck did you do to her?”

How could he tell him? How could he mutter the courage to tell one of his best friends how he absolutely fucked up? Ashton would hate him, with every reason in the world he should hate him. Luke just hoped that he didn’t.

He, Calum, and Michael were the only friends he knew since he met Y/N. They took him in, welcomed him into the group with gritted teeth with the only condition to never hurt their friend. And after a year of being friends, he broke not only Y/N’s trust but theirs as well. And the fact that Y/N didn’t tell them what he’d done seemed cruel because now he had to. Breaking more hearts than their own.

“I fucked up, Ash” Luke muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips as he crouched forward on the bench and placing his elbows on the top of his thighs, getting ready to face the consequences of his actions “I fucked up badly. I was just- You saw those articles, you saw those tweets and those photos. She never talked about him so I thought… What was I supposed to think? She had a reputation, and with the way, she acted the night before it all made sense to me. So I snapped”

“Luke, I swear to GOD if you touched her-”

“NO! God no, I would never!” Luke quickly stated, horrified at the thought of ever hitting her. He was not like that. He would never be like that “But the things I said to her… fuck, Ash. I threw everything in her face, called her a whore and a cheater without giving her a chance to explain herself. I was so fucking angry and she didn’t say a word. She took all of it in silence and I kept going, even when she begged me to stop I kept going... I didn’t know. You must know that I didn’t know what happened to her or her past with Madden. If I knew then I would’ve never-”

“But you did”

Ashton's words were simple, but they cut deeper than a knife through Luke’s heart. He never heard him sound so disappointed and angry. It reminded him of her and the last words she said to him.

“Luke, this girl has been through so much and you still went and dragged her through the mud just to hurt her”

“I didn’t want to-”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me” Ashton barked into the phone “You did. She gave you everything she could give and you threw it on her face like it was nothing without a chance to explain herself. And it’s not like she could run off, turn off her comments and go back to a normal life! I have never seen Y/N so broken since-” He stopped “What did she tell you?”

Luke knew he was referring to Madden. He remembers her face covered in tears, lips trembling and body shaking as she told him what happened in that relationship. He finally saw the hurt and scars that covered her soul.

“She told me what she could”

Ashton sighed “Then you must know that she would never go back to him,” He said, Luke could tell by his voice that he was hurting, too “He met her at a concert in our second world tour as a solo act. He is the son of a very famous producer and they hit it off right away. We didn’t know exactly when things turned for the worse, but we knew something was happening. She would cover herself more, never hanging out with us unless he was present, she wouldn’t eat in front of him or talk to any of us directly unless it was something about work and that still pissed him off. We all heard the rumors of him cheating on her, but she always dismissed them saying that he loved her and he would never do that. I still wonder what other things we didn’t know that she’s still processing.

It wasn’t until the night he almost killed her that we understood the severity of it. She came by my house while I and the others were hanging out. She was bleeding all over herself, her face was covered in blood just as her shirt and pants. It was terrifying; I don’t remember ever driving that far to the hospital, paying the nurses to keep quiet because she kept asking to keep it a secret. That bastard broke her nose and one of her ribs. She had bruises on her arms, stomach, eye, inner thighs, and legs and a cut over her eyebrow. She lost a lot of blood on her way to my house so Calum had to donate some of his because she needed a transfusion. She stayed in the hospital overnight; the next morning we filed a restraining order against Madden and she moved in with me that same day, promising herself and to us that she would never let someone do that again to her. We promise we would never let anything happen to her from that moment on”

Luke was shedding silent tears at Ashton’s story, all the things he imagined happened to her didn’t compare to the reality she suffered. And he only made it worse.

“She was never the same after that” Ashton continued “Until you came into the picture”

Ashton could hear Luke crying over the phone, his sniffs had given him away. But he knew he needed to hear this; he needed to know.

“We didn’t want you to get close to her, afraid you might hurt her the same way Madden did, but she insisted that you were different, that you were a good guy. And against our better judgment, we believed her. We never expected that little by little, we would get our Y/N/N back. She was smiling again, laughing and singing songs about the love we never thought she’d be able to sing again. It was so obvious that she loved you that we couldn't do anything about it but be happy for her, you brought her back to us.

I guess Madden saw that and didn’t like it, that’s why he came to see her that night. We don’t know much about what happened there or what he said to her, but she was shaking when she came back. All she said was that he cornered her, threatened her and called the paparazzi that worked for his father to take pictures of them, and since we were not in America, there was nothing the restraining order to do to help her”

“He did what?!” Luke shouted at the phone, fuming over the fact that that fucker decided to get close to her when she was vulnerable. He promised that if he ever saw him he’d kill him.

“Now you care about what happened?” Ashton asked in return, frustration lacing his voice at Luke’s sudden feeling of protection “Luke, she called you over ten times that day as she was breaking down in the green room. She asked us all if we could get ahold of you because the driver came back without you. She was so fucking scared and you weren’t there when she needed you by her side. So don’t you fucking dare get offended right now. It already happened and you weren’t there”

Ashton was right. Luke had no right to be furious at the moment, given that he was the one who abandoned her deliberately when he saw the pictures of her and her abuser. He had the excuse of ignorance, but that wasn’t enough. It never has, not it ever will be, because his girlfriend needed him at the time and he left her alone.

He cried into the phone, not caring if Ashton could listen or not. He was so fucking angry at himself, at Madden, at the world… He was supposed to protect her, he said he would and then he gave the final punch. He failed her because of his insecurities.

“I’m sorry” He cried, but Ashton was having none of that.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing for”

“She doesn’t want to-”

“Listen to me you shit” Ashton hissed into the phone “I don’t care what you think she wants. She is destroying herself over the fact that the last person she thought would hurt her left her because he chose to believe the lies of the media over his own girlfriend”

Luke’s heart broke all over again “She’s what?”

“Oh my god, how dense are you, dude? Now you decide to ignore the gossip?! She’s been going out all night, drinking herself to death and refusing help from any of us. She is slowly killing herself by killing her soul” He sounded worried, scared even, as he muttered the last words “We are losing her”

“Wh-what can I do?” Luke asked helplessly. Not being able to bear the thought of Y/N being gone.

“We booked you a flight. Figure it out and don’t make us regret it”

“Forgetting the lyrics again? Y/N L/N surely knows how to displease an audience”

“Y/N L/N MISSES YET ANOTHER INTERVIEW AFTER PAPARAZZI CAUGHT HER AT A PARTY THE NIGHT BEFORE”

“What is going on with YN?”

He arrived late to the hotel, having his flight delayed for a few hours, and the boys were already waiting for him in the lobby. Luke took a deep breath as he spotted them from afar, they were talking among them, concerned looks covering their expressions as they looked through their phone.

Luke walked up to them, mustering enough courage to say “Hi,”

The three men turned towards the blonde, Calum quickly walking up to him and punching him in the face, caught Luke by surprise as he backed up holding his nose and looking at Calum with widened, surprised eyes.

“That’s for hurting my best friend, you asshole!” He said, making the other guests look in their direction.

Luke hissed as he made sure he wasn’t bleeding “Thank you. I deserved that” He said, blinking twice “But to be honest I was expecting Ashton to deliver the blow”

“Calum won at rock, paper, scissors” Ashton shrugged “But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. We still need to have a serious talk and I might punch you there”

Luke nodded, understanding that he did not only fail Y/N, but he also failed them. He promised them that he would take care of their best friend and they believed him. They even helped them get together and served as trust advisers for Luke about what it means to date a celebrity and yet he ignored every single one of them.

He might never get their trust back, but now they needed to focus on other things more important than that.

“Where is she?” He asked.

“Out,” Michael answered “The girls went with her. We don’t want her to be alone when she’s drunk”

They started walking towards the door, getting into the car that would take them to Y/N and the rest of the girls. “Do you know what you will say to her when you see her?” Calum asked.

“No,” Luke answered honestly “I guess I’ll know then”

“And you better not fuck it up again, Hemmings, or I swear it’s going to be the last thing you do”

The dance floor was crowded. People were dancing one against the other as the beats of the songs reverberated all over their bodies and started the flame of having just one night of fun. Among them it was Y/N, dancing in the corner with her friends and ignoring their concerned eyes as she moved freely thanks to the alcohol that was cursing through her veins. She knew she had to wake up soon, but she just wanted to keep living this dream every night instead of facing the nightmares that would come in the morning.

She missed how easy everything was before that night when the nightmare started. When she couldn’t find Luke in the crowd of their concert nor their bedroom late at night. Now she doesn’t even want to go to sleep, knowing that she won’t find him there ever again, all because she asked him to leave.

But he wanted to leave, even before she asked him he was already getting his stuff to leave her “cheating ass”, writing words that describe their relationship as toxic. Is that what it was? Were they toxic or just scared? She couldn’t tell the difference anymore, not after spending night after night trying to erase those words out of her mind, but they were already scared forever in her skin. She promised herself she would carry them as a battle wound, as proof that no matter what you do, you could never win when the whole world seems against you even when you have done nothing wrong… Unlike now.

She knew what she was doing, she knew she was disappointing a lot of people. She was disappointed in herself, too, but she couldn’t stop. The world was finally telling truths about her and it felt nice to at least have that. They denied her the truths for so long, feeding everyone lies that they would believe without hesitation or her explanation, just like Luke did, and now she was finally acting like people supposed she had. Now, at least she had control over that.

She wondered if Luke ever thinks about her. If he’s forgiven her for whatever he thinks she’s done or if he continues to read the articles and rejoice in the fact that he was right, even when he wasn’t, he was right. Maybe he’d be proud?

“Darling, are you alright?” She heard Bethany shout over the music. All the girls were looking at her. She didn’t realize she stopped dancing.

However, she just nodded “I’m going to get more drinks!” She said, faking a smile even though the girls could tell that she was crying. But she was so far out she couldn’t even feel the tears that rolled down her cheek.

Y/N gripped the marble countertop of the bar, trying to hold herself steady. She was thinking again, she didn’t want to think anymore. She ordered two shots of tequila and drowned them down before asking for two more. But before she could drown the fourth one, someone snatches the drink out of her hand.

“Heeey” She slurred “Don’t get between me and my- oh, hello!” She smiled happily at the stranger who took her drink from her “You look a lot like my ex-boyfriend”

Luke’s eyes widened at the word. She has never called him her boyfriend in front of people before. He glanced behind her and saw Michael, Ashton, and Calum already standing next to their girls, nodding encouragingly at him.

“Ex-boyfriend?” He asked, eyes meeting hers and noticing the glimmer of tears in them. But she kept on smiling and nodding before she started to pout.

“But shhhhh,” She said, laying her head on the counter, almost like she wanted to take a nap “It’s a secret. No one knows we’re together… or were together. They will never leave him alone if they find out”

“Who?”

Y/N looked to the sides, almost as if making sure no one was listening before she leaned into him and whispered “The media,” Then she started to giggle “If they found out I have a boyfriend then they will want to know everything about him! And poor Luke wouldn’t be able to handle that, he shouldn’t go through that”

Luke’s heart broke at the sight of the drunk girl sighing in the bar, holding her empty shot glass and sniffing every other word to stop the tears from falling.

“He doesn’t deserve that, the hate. He’s a good guy, a little shy and awkward, but he’s nice. But the media is cruel and a liar, and I don’t want him to feel baaaaad. How stupid it is that because I love someone they should get hated on, right? Hahaha, I just wanted to protect hiiiim, cause I love him sooo so much. I even protected him from my friends! You know?! I never told them what he did to me in case they wanted to keep their friendship going, Luke is a very shy guy and he loved them very muchhh, I couldn't take that from him"

“Even if he hurt you?” Luke’s words were careful and filled with pain. When the boys told him that she was getting drunk each night he never imagined her this far gone. He never imagined her this sad.

Y/N shook his head “I deserved to get, hic, hurt” She said between hiccups “He said I was a cheating whore monster liar, b-b-but I don’t blame himmmm. I’m sad but at least he doesn’t have to deal with me anymore and this BULLSHIT” She yelled, throwing her hands up to the sky. But then she started crying, sobbing as she tumbled backward before Luke caught her.

Luke was trying to contain his own tears as she sobbed into his embrace “I just want to tell him that I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him from myself” She cried “I wanted to be happy with him but we are both sad and toxic for each other. That’s what he said in his poem. I-I-I just w-want him to be ha-happy”

Luke cried as he held her, burying his face into her hair as both of their bodies trembled. Even when she had every right to hate him, she still wants to protect him. Something he should’ve done.

“I’m so sorry, my love” He cried, making Y/N look at him with worried, tearful eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, stranger,” She said as she cupped his face and wiped his tears “I’m sad but you should be happy!”

“Why?”

“C-cause you’re not me”

Luke stared into her eyes, she was smiling while the tears kept falling. Even at her lowest, she tried to be strong for everyone around her, even the stranger she thought he was. He pressed his lips on a thin line and nodded, hugging her tighter as if he was trying to hold on to the last piece of her that didn’t show coldness to him before she remembers everything in the morning. At least he would hold her one more time.

Y/N didn’t understand much of what was happening but she returned the hug with the same energy, letting the stranger cry into her shoulder as she rubbed his back with her fingertips, wondering what Luke was doing right now. She decided that she didn’t want to know.

“I want to sleep,” She said after a minute of holding the man.

Luke pulled away from her, wiping his tears as he nodded “Then let’s get you to bed, my love”

She shook his head, pulling on his hand as he tried to walk them out of the club “But Luke won’t be there when I wake up”

All the wind was knocked out of his lungs, did she want him there? “I’ll be there,” He said.

“What?”

“He’ll be there. I promise”

Luke gave one last look at the group. They were all staring at him with worried and hopeful eyes, actually surprised that this didn’t end badly just yet. Luke nodded at them and pulled Y/N with him, the rest of the guys followed him into the car as they made their way back to the hotel.

Y/N slept all the way back, her head was placed in Luke’s shoulder as the blond kept staring at her, silent tears still dying on his cheek. The guilt was eating him alive; it was painful to see her this way, but at the same time he knew that she was at peace as she slept, letting the world fade for at least a few minutes before reality came crashing down.

When they reached the hotel, Luke carried her back into her room. He sat her down on the bed and started to take off her shoes as she lazily rubbed the tiredness from her eyes, suddenly waking up for a moment.

“Luke?” She asked. Luke raised his head and was met with her eyes already locked with his, a glaze of new tears adorned her pupils as she whispered “Am I dreaming right now?”

“No,” He answered, voice as soft as hers as he got up and placed a kiss on the top of her head “No, you’re not, darling”

“Good. I always hate to wake up without you there” She said, looking over her shoulder to the empty side where Luke used to sleep.

They both stayed quiet for the rest of the night. Luke took off her silk shirt and leather pants and helped her put on one of the big shirts she’s used to sleeping in. He wiped the makeup off her face and followed her nighttime routine without missing a step. When she was done, she curled up to her side and quickly fell into a deep slumber.

Luke stared at the girl, his heart aching for her as he saw how fragile she looked while she slept. He thought about all the things she said that night, how he never considered her side of the story before. How he just assumed that she was hiding him because she didn’t want people to find out she was taken when in reality she didn’t want people to hurt him the way they hurt her. The way he hurt her.

Tears started to pick up in his eyes again. He hated to cry but there was nothing else he could do at the moment. Everything became too much too fast and he didn’t know if he could fix it. So all he could do was cry for the girl he loves and the girl he lost, not knowing if she would ever come back to him.

“I’m sorry” He whispered in a quiet sob, getting into bed with her and holding her close “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry, my love” He kept murmuring into her hair until sleep claimed him as well.

The next morning Y/N wakes up in her hotel bed but she doesn’t know how she got there. She looks to her side but the bed is empty, yet she finds an aspirin and a bottle of water in her nightstand. She wonders who was the poor soul that had to go with her last night to make sure she doesn't end up drunk in a ditch, at least they succeeded.

Then she hears water running up in the bathroom and her heart sinks. Did she bring someone here last night? No, she wouldn’t do that. But she was very drunk… Oh my god, what did she do?

Luke could hear her shuffling in the bed as he brushed his teeth. “It is now or never,” He thought, but he didn’t know what he would find behind the door. She didn’t know him yesterday, but today was another story and Luke’s heart shrank at the thought of Y/N hating him for coming back, even if it was to apologize to her. He was terrified, but he was tired of running away.

As soon as he opened the door he was met with Y/N’s surprised gaze. The girl was quick to cover herself up, cheeks tinted red at the sight of her ex-boyfriend in her hotel room. She didn’t miss the flash of hurt that ran through his face when she did that.

“Luke…” She said in one breath, suddenly feeling self-conscious by his presence “What are you- Did we-?”

“No,” He answered quickly, stepping closer to the bed “No, we didn’t. You were drunk and I- You know I would never do that to you”

“I thought we didn’t know each other…”

Her words lingered in the air between them, creating a tension that could be cut with a knife. How fast did they become strangers when they used to know every single cardinal point of their bodies, every breath they took and what they meant, every sigh, every look… Now they were just two people in a room with so much to say but with no words coming out of either of their mouths.

Luke noticed how her eyes changed. While they were no longer filled with tears, they now laid emotionless in front of him, dull and empty as she stared at him.

“I did this to her,” He thought “I took the light of her eyes. It’s my fault”

She cleared her throat, breaking the silence as she spoke “Well, thank you for bringing me here last night. You can go now” She said, tearing her eyes away from him as she sat on her edge of the bed.

Luke stood still “No,”

“I’m asking you to leave” Y/N clarified, her voice growing stronger but still a bit sore.

“And I’m telling you I’m not going” He responded, taking tentative steps towards her “Something I should’ve done all those weeks ago”

He was standing in front of her in a matter of seconds; he crouched to meet her eyes but she quickly turned her face away “Y/N, please” He begged, his hand coming to rest on her cheek as his knuckles caressed her skin while the other one was placed on top of her hands, both intertwined with each other on top of her thighs “You could look at me yesterday, please don’t deny me at least that. Let me see you, my love”

But Y/N didn’t move, her face stayed turned to the side with her hair covering most of it. She couldn’t look at him, she just couldn’t. It was too hard, too painful. Luke sighed.

“Okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to, but at least listen to me, yeah? I just- I need you to listen, Y/N, please” He pleaded, placing both hands on top of hers “Y/N, I love you”

The knot in his throat became tighter as he noticed how the veins of her neck tensed and she started to grip her hands tighter. But she needed to hear this, and even though it hurt to see her like that, he continued.

“I love you. I love you. I love you” He said, voice breaking at the end, impossible to fight that choking feeling in his throat “I loved you since the moment I saw you. You were all dressed up in Calum‘s clothes and you had a pen in your hair, and I thought you were the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, but you were so nervous about trying to clean the coffee you spilled that you didn’t even notice I fell for you without knowing your name” He let out a tearful chuckle “I started to fall that day and I haven’t stopped, not even for a second. Y/N you are- You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for not seeing that. I don’t know what I have to do for you to forgive me, but I’ll do anything, my love. Anything to make it better. Cause I followed you blindly from the start, and I’m so sorry I let you down. I’m so, so fucking sorry that I let my insecurities come in our way. I love you, even then I never stopped loving you”

He could see how her chin started to tremble, she was trying to hold off the tears as much as him “I - I wish I could go back in time. I would’ve never said the things I said, I would’ve never doubted you or left without listening to what you had to say. I should’ve fought harder for you, but I was a coward. I still am, if I’m being honest, but I will not run away, Y/N. Not anymore. I know I will never deserve you, but I’ll do my best and try. Because you, my love, are the love of my life, the greatest love I have and - and I can’t -“

It became too much for him. He couldn’t say anything else without breaking down. But he wanted her to know how much she meant for him, how much he is willing to fight for her if she lets him. She needed to know how sorry he was and how much he still loves her. But the words got stuck in his throat. The poet was left speechless.

“Y/N you are so strong,” He finally said “So strong, my love. And I’m so fucking proud of everything you do, I always have and always will be” He brought her hands to his lips and started pressing kisses all over it while wetting them with his tears “I wish I could take back everything I said. All those words were said out of anger and jealousy, that is not how I see you at all. You are so beautiful, Y/N, inside and out. So kind, so smart, so giving… You are perfect. And I love you, I love you, I love yo-”

Suddenly his words were interrupted by her lips as she started kissing him. Y/N didn’t want to keep listening anymore so she did the only thing he could, the thing she wanted to do the most since she saw him come out of the bathroom.

Their hands flew to cup each other’s cheeks, keeping their faces as close as they could, feeling how their tears became one as they started to deepen the kiss. They rocked back and forward with the intensity of their energies colliding once again, it was everything they needed and more. Suddenly, Luke got up from the floor and brought Y/N along with her, pressing her against the wall as their lips never left each other.

“I love you” He breathed into her lips before kissing her again and again and again, already getting lost in the feeling of euphoria she brought to him “I love you”

She kept crying as their lips met, savoring every word, every praise that came from his mouth, trying hard to hold on to them as she felt her breath become short “I missed you” She cried into the kiss, pulling away to see his face.

Luke’s eyes were blown wide as he stared at her, their lips were pink as they tried to catch their breaths. He knocked his forehead against hers before kissing it lightly “Please, forgive me” He begged, holding her tight against his chest.

“Luke,” She whispered as she tugged on his shirt, making him look back at her “Kiss me”

He looked at her softly, his baby blue eyes saying more than he ever could as he caressed her cheek one more time before leaning down and trapping her lips with his. He had no rush because there was no other place he’d rather be, no other person he’d rather spend time with. Only her. Only his Y/N.

Her hands traveled tentatively under his shirt, softly caressing the skin of his back and his stomach as she parted her lips to grant him more access and control. Luke’s hand that was not cupping her cheek rounded around her waist, bringing her body closer to him with the need of feeling her, all of her.

“Y/N…” He groaned, tilting his head back when he felt her kiss along his jaw and neck.

“Please…” She murmured against his skin, sucking and kissing on the spot that she knew would make him shiver.

Luke pressed her against the wall with his body completely covering hers. He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her feet from the ground as she locked her legs around his waist. “Please,” She begged again, closing her lips around the shell of his ear and slightly biting into it. She could feel him getting hard as her hips moved forward, her core pressing against his hardening cock. She moaned softly into his ear “Please, Luke. Please”

The movement of her hips was all Luke needed to lose himself to her, thrusting right back at her and moaning at the friction of her soaked panties against his clothed erection. Her sound became more breathy and he knew she was getting close just by the friction alone, having spent too much time without this feeling.

“Y/N…” Luke groaned into her after a particularly hard trust “I-”

“I know” She breathed “I need it too,”

Without a second thought, Luke turned both of them around, still holding Y/N by the back of her thighs as he placed them back into the bed. Now it was his turn to kiss along her face, her lips, her neck… everywhere she would give him access to and would leave her breathing his name. His hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, taking it off completely in one swift move and occupying his hands by touching her breasts, massaging them softly as his lips closed against one of her nipples, tongue circling around the hard pebble until they were nice, erect and wet from his kiss only to do it again with the other one.

Y/N was a whimpering mess under him, her fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked on her sweet spot, kissing down her body until his lips found her wet panties. He kissed over her clothes bundle of nerves, making her moan and begged for more as he swiftly hooked his long fingers at either side of her hips and pulled them down, kissing along her thighs up and down and up again only to finish tongue deep into her hole, lapping at her arousal and moaning against her at the taste of her. He always found her exquisite.

Stars were playing behind her eyelids as she felt one finger inside her while Luke’s lips closed against her clit, sucking it lightly as he inserted another finger per her request, thrusting then inside and out as she chanted his name like a prayer when her walls clenched against them.

Luke licked her clean as her fingers played with his hair, relishing this intimate moment as a precious memory for the future. When he pushed himself up he noticed that there were a new set of tears rolling down her cheeks “Are you okay, love?” He asked, “Did I hurt you?”

She shook his head, looking up at him with teary eyes “I love you”

His eyes soften at her words, hands caressing the side of her face as he leaned in without thinking, kissing her tears away with such care, never wanting to see them again.

“Luke…” She whispered, kissing his chin “Luke, make love to me”

Blue eyes met Y/E/C, sharing all the love he had in them before leaning down again to trap her lips with his; tongues dancing together like it was the first time all over again where no other words were needed.

Y/N helped him out of his shirt and shorts, pumping his cock in her hands as he moaned in her ear how good it felt before lining it up with her entrance, quiet gasps leaving each other’s mouths as they felt the familiar stretch when he bottomed out.

Soft words and kisses were shared as Luke’s thrusts were slow and steady. It was silent, needy, passionate; it was everything they needed and more. Their hands explored the familiarity of their bodies, leaving faint marks as they enjoyed their shared pleasure.

“Please,” She begged against his lips, moaning as Luke started hitting her spot “Please, please, please, plea-”

Her orgasm came over her like a wave and Luke was entranced with her face as it contorted in extasis, helping him reach his climax as he cum inside her, painting her walls as his thrusts became sloppy.

They stayed like that for a while, kissing on top of each other as their bodies stayed connected in the most intimate way. But soon Luke had to get up, getting a wet cloth from the bathroom and cleaning her up, whispering sweet nothings to her as he did so.

He climbed into the bed next to her, pulling her closer against his chest as his back rested against the headboard, drawing circles in the soft spot of her back and resting his chin on the top of her head.

They must’ve fallen asleep after a while because when he opened his eyes again he felt Y/N crying into his chest.

“My love?” He asked, worry lacing his voice as he accommodated himself better so he could see her face. Y/N eyes were puffy and filled with tears as she struggled to contain a sob “What’s wrong?”

Y/N sniffed, voice breaking as she asked “You love me?”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion “What a stupid question,” He said as he started playing with your hair “Of course I love you”

“But what else?”

Her question confused him, even more, when he saw pure heartbreak spread along her face.

“What else what?”

“You love me and what else?” She repeated her question.

“What else is there?”

Luke’s answer made her lips tremble as a new set of tears filled her eyes. His heart fell to his stomach with her reaction, not knowing what he did to make her this upset “Baby, what’s wrong? Is love not enough?”

Y/N shook her head as she took a deep breath, trying to find enough voice and courage to say what she needed.

“I’m not perfect, Luke”

“I know,” He said, bringing his fingers to caress your cheek but you shook your head.

“No, you don’t know” She stated, tears rolling down her cheek “You still see me as something out of your reach, as something you don’t deserve because you hold me to such standards that is impossible for me to live up to your expectations. I will let you down, even without wanting to, I will. And- a-and I don’t think I’ll be able to stand that look in your eyes once I do. I can’t go through that again”

She cried softly for a while, trying to find the right words to say.

“Luke, I need you to listen to me very carefully and really think about what I’m asking for here, okay, love?” She said after collecting herself just enough. He nodded as he gave her his undivided attention “Luke, I love you. More than anyone in the world, I love you. I thought I would never say those words again but I can’t deny my feelings for you nor do I want to. I love you. But I also love my life”

Luke’s eyes were fixed on her as she spoke, nodding along to what she was saying. She took another deep breath before continuing.

“A life that is filled with concerts, traveling and recordings and parties and interviews… A life that I chose to follow my dreams and make them come true. A life I am not going to give up because it’s mine and I truly love it. But in this life, there are some bumps in the road. There will always be people trying to bring me down, sending hate to me and the ones I love, spreading rumors all around where sometimes you won’t be able to distinguish fiction from reality. With people trying to get to me, by flirting or abusing their power with threats. But I keep going, I deal with all of that because that’s just the way it is. I will go to an interview that might get twisted, I might go and get flirted on by a random stranger that works for publicity. I might have rumors of me dating people I haven’t even met! All of that without my consent or knowledge. But I agreed to this when I agreed to follow my dreams and I can’t help it when it happens and most of the time I can’t say anything about it even if it hurts.

And when that happens I need to know that you will trust me. Because I cannot possibly ask you to leave your dreams to follow mine, meaning that we won’t be together all the time like we’re used to. And I need to know that you will trust me when I’m away from you”

Luke stayed quiet, his mind running a thousand miles per hour at her words. Could he trust her? When they were together on tour, and even at home in L.A, the rumors about Y/N were strong, so much so that he didn’t know if they were true or not. And even though he knew her, he still wasn’t sure. He doubted her, more times than not he did which ended up in him losing her until last night. He trusted her now, but…

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly, feeling like the weight of his shoulders was being lifted as he spoke “I don’t trust my mind, not when it’s about you. Not really. I trust you here, right now but I can’t promise that my insecurities won’t get in the way, changing that for the future. But I can try, I’ll do my best-”

“What if your best is not enough, Luke?” She asked, sucking the air out of both of them.

“What?” He asked in return, voice small and soft.

She sighed, blinking through the tears “What if- What if it’s not enough? You love me, but you don’t trust me. I love you, but I’m scared you’re going to run away every time you hear something about me that could tint the image of me you have in your mind. I’m scared of that Y/N because I’m not her and I might never be able to compete with her. I wish I could tell you that everything will change for the better, that love will be enough. But if we can’t see a future now…”

“There might not be a future at all” Luke finished for her.

The truth hurt more than they could ever have imagined, but it was still the truth. Without trust, there is no love that could endure the passings of times, but they could try, couldn’t they?

“What now?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Hold me?”

Luke opened his arms and Y/N nested into them, setting her head upon his chest and letting his heartbeat be the melody of her heartbreak. “I love you” She whispered into his skin.

“I love you, too”

“I might never stop loving you”

“You don’t have to”

She sighed “I know, that’s what scares me”

Luke nodded, even though she couldn't see him. He let his fingertips trace up and down her arms and back, serving as the only comfort he could give right now.

“Stay with me tonight?” She asked, tilting her head so she could look him in the eyes “Just one night the two of us where we can leave the world behind. Just us and for tonight that’s enough”

He smiled sadly “Morning will come eventually”

“And what will happen to us in the morning?”

Luke let out a sad sigh “I don’t know”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @wildflower98 @girl-toxxic

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magnumdays · 3 years

Text

Magnum PI 4.03 - Texas Wedge review

Let’s start at the end. Because I love how we went from 4.01 with Higgy and Ethan actually on video call and them being all ‘we’ll see each other soon’ to in 4.04...

“Ethan loves Kenya so much he’s staying for six more months’ and the reaction is... *oh well*

(Though I gotta say, Perdie said a lot with just how she was looking and then trying to put on a good face for the gang.)

But yeah makes sense because they need him to stay in Kenya for MI6/Eve to have any real hold (and Jay Ali has some scheduling conflict this season right? besides, at this point it’s not like I actually want to see him).

It was just kind of amusing how kind of unimportant it was, like ‘WAIT WAIT we need this to happen in this episode, let’s just throw it in at the end.‘ How him being gone and her going with him so they wouldn’t be separated was a WHOLE FREAKING episode and season 3′s finale. Now it’s just ‘well, that’s a bummer, moving on‘.

Do appropriate the sad but somehow not that sad expression on Magnum’s face though...

(Like excuse me sir, what is this face?)

Anyways, let’s go back to the start of the episode. Because Higgy being all spy amazing = loved it. For like the first bit of it I even wondered if we were getting another scene from the book. The whole thing was completely separate and I get that they’re adding it to build up whatever is going to down in the mid-season finale (or I’m guessing?) and I’m excited to see where it goes. I just have liked something to tie it in with the ep.

What if we’d gotten some little bit about Magnum trying to reach her ‘last night’ and she wasn’t picking up. Possibly while they were bantering about him not picking up, he could have thrown it in there.

But I can’t be sad we got these scenes. I don’t know what they did, but Higgy in this = mewwow, I want. (think it’s both her hair and the red lipstick and the flirting combine that just makes my bisexual brain go ‘red-alert red-alert’.)

How does she get to be this freaking hot and why am I almost jelly of the guy who gets a syringe in his neck because you know, at least he got the time at the bar with her?

Anyways, moving on. We got Lia and Magnum cuteness then Lia/Magnum/Higgy OMG this is so awkward. I think Lia works for me, mostly because while she is there, they’re not actually developing her and Magnum’s relationship. Heck we got her backstory in like one sentence of Magnum telling Higgy about her (also they made her thirty-five? Like come on! She looks 22 - even though I know the actress is like 30.) Even Ethan got to tell a bit more about himself.

Also enjoyed how buying groceries - Magnum trying to please Lia - instead turns into a ‘Higgins lies to cover for Magnum’ moment.

And they give each other these looks.

It turns the fridge into their secret as well.

Plus it show how in tune and willing to just help each other out they are now, especially Juliet. Seriously, season 1 Higgins would have sung like a canary here, being all ‘Magnum’s got a girl friend’ and enjoyed watching him squirm and having to explain to Kumu. But she’d never do that now. Because they’re BFFs and partners and just each other’s closest confidants. And I think that’s pretty beautiful.

Moving on to the case of the week: THIS IS THE KIND OF CASES I WANT. Not murders and terribleness. Like a guy who got fired because someone lied (and it of course turns into something much bigger). But you know, someone coming to them because the normal stuff don’t work and Magnum and Higgins just being their last hope!

Higgy in full Southern Belle (Belle..!) mood and just being her best sassy self and wearing the amazingly wacky hat + a pink tennis outfit = love it.

Magnum being a terrible waiter but a great detective = enjoyed it tremendously.

Rick making friends with the lady getting out of a bad relationship = cute and wholesome.

We also got some Higgy backstory and our babies making heart-eyes at each other.

Magnum: I thought you said your dad was a tough blue collar guy?

Higgy: He was. But my mum was kinda...posh.

Magnum: So who do you take after? Your mom and your dad?

Higgy: I’d like to think I take after them both.

Magnum: Couldn’t agree more.

Why are they so cute? I seriously love all the moments they’re just soft and cute with each other this season and I’m here for it.

Now, sugar, I am not one to complain, but I must say, I do have one little concern regarding the events of last nights episode *end Harper accent* we get a kind a long car chase with three cars, which honestly, I felt was a little long. Because they weren’t actually chasing the big bad. So though I enjoy seeing the Ferrari in action it just felt a tad bit long and the actual take down with the Ivory Smugglers maybe should have gotten some of that time. Might make for a good ‘get snack re-fill’ moment for the re-watch!

Other highlight: Higgy/Harper being all “You guys go ahead, I’m going to go flirt with that cutie behind the bar (meaning Magnum) and I’m not leaving until I get his number.”) And Magnum actually calling her out on calling him a “cutie”! (and her going “Harper clearly has questionable taste...” The banter is still there, it’s just much less harsh and cutting!

It’s strange because they’ve both somehow toned down the Miggy and cranked it up this season. There is less moments yet it’s totally permeates every scene they’re in and just how they interact with each other. Both how they’re written and how Jay and Perdie are acting.

Yeah, so this was a really enjoyable episode, possibly my favorite of the three we’ve gotten so far in season 4.

Almost forgot...

Over at the bar Jin and his so adorable niece makes an appearance. Cutest kid I’ve seen this month, hands down.

We also get to meet Cade, a (troubled?) teen coming into the bar looking for a job. He’s joining the regular cast (I think) so it’ll be interesting to see what they do with him!

Looking forward to next week’s ep with the Gordy hurt Dennis drama and Higgy going to the shrink (how American of her...) and the promised talk concerning her relationship with both Ethan and Magnum!

Over all it just looks very action packed and fun. And I’m also looking forward to 4.05 even more, with Higgy ending up in a life-and-death situation, even though we won’t get it until after Halloween 😞

#magnum pi #magnum pi review #my review #magnum pi 4.03 review #Higgy undercover is the best #Miggy #this season is amazing #I love the vibes #juliet higgins #thomas magnum #tc rick

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harryhandstan · 3 years

Text

This is my contribution to @meetmeinfleetwood‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I chose the trope roommates to lovers and the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” This was fun to write thank you for allowing me to participate!

Thank you to my beta readers @tbslenthusiast, @witch-harry, and @sunflowers-styles! Y’all are the best!!

no warnings that I can think of other than alcohol tw // bc of the wine they share!

word count: 2.3k

writing tag | masterlist

It’s 5:45 p.m. when you finally leave work for the day. You should’ve just said to hell with it and went home at 5:30 like you were supposed to, but you were nice enough not to. Too nice you’d been told in the past, but it’s a flaw you’re willing to accept if it gets you a promotion to the position you ultimately dreamed of working when you started there 3 years ago.

After a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine (or two), your car can’t get you home fast enough. It’s Friday and you’re looking forward to spending time doing absolutely nothing for the next two days but curling up in a blanket and watching Christmas movies in the apartment you will essentially be alone in. Your roommate Harry shared the space with you, but kept to himself for the most part. Aside from dinners and movie nights on rare occasions when your schedule lined up, allowing you to spend the evening together.

As if your thoughts summoned him, your phone dinged, indicating a new message. Your eyes dart down to where it sits in the passenger seat, careful to keep your eyes on the car in front of you, waiting patiently for the light to turn red so you can grab your phone to respond.

It’s one simple word, “Home?” so you know he’s either still working or on his own drive home.

Your reply is just as direct, “Not yet. On my way! Movie night?”

The light’s green again so you tuck your phone back into your purse, ignoring the next ding until you arrive home. You’re through the door of your apartment and down the hall before you read his message, “Sure. Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese! I’ll pick the movie and you pay for dinner?”

“That doesn’t sound fair :(”

“Alright fine, you get home before I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas you can pick the movie..deal?”

“Deal!”

The race is on then, both of you competitive and determined to win. You have a movie in mind that you’ve been dying to watch all day and you don’t want to have to rock-paper-scissors to break the tie like you usually do when the two of you don’t agree on who wins these little games.

You’d already shed most of your layers of clothing easily as you moved through the apartment; your boots kicked off by the door, jacket gone and thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, cardigan pulled from your body and tossed on the bed by the time you made it to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long to strip the rest away and to gather a set of pajamas from your well organized drawer before darting across the hall to the shared bathroom.

You know you have at minimum 45 minutes to be done, an hour if he goes to the better Chinese place a little further across town, which he most likely would. You’d been dreaming of ending your week with a bubble bath, but you don’t take the chance now, just hop under the hot spray of the shower, hoping it will have the same relaxing effect. Your eyes are closed as you tilt your head back to wet your hair while one hand fumbles over the bottles to find your shampoo.

Eyes still closed, you tip the bottle to add a bit to your hand, but you freeze when you open your eyes temporarily to close the bottle and put it back on the shelf. It’s Harry’s shampoo you’ve grabbed instead and for a moment you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how many times you’ve teased him about how expensive his products are. But he would never let you hear the end of it if he came home and you smelled like him. Ultimately you would’ve felt too guilty to waste it, so you work it through and hope he never finds out. Pray that the act washes away just like the suds do when you rinse them from your hair.

By your hopeful calculations, you still have about 10 minutes left before he arrives by the time you're done in the shower. You decide to give him a fair advantage, venturing into the kitchen to decide which bottle of wine would pair best with dinner. When you make your selection, you pour yourself a glass, settling into a comfy spot on the couch. The black remote taunts you from the small wooden coffee, and you grab it. No harm in getting the movie ready while you wait, right?

You’re 2 glasses deep and 20 minutes into the movie when he arrives, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. Your eyes go wide when you see him. You’re not sure why, there had been many nights he’d found you in the same position, but tonight feels different. You gulp down the sip of wine, too tipsy and unaware that you’re staring. Had his dimples always been that prominent when he smiled? Even without your glasses you could spot that grin that stretched a mile wide across his face.

“Haroldddd..you’re home!”

He hated that nickname, had always despised when other people called him that, but falling from your lips it sounds like a prayer and he would gladly change his name to that if he thought it would make you the least bit happy.

“S’pose I lost, huh? Got the food pretty quickly but stopped to get this,” He holds up a bottle of wine, ironically the very same kind that you’re drinking now, “Shoulda known y’would already have some!”

“Oh good, you got some for yourself..this one’s almost empty..”

“M’not that late, am I?” He chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, looking between you and the bottle.

“Hey..it’s a small bottle! This is only my third glass and I’ve barely even touched it.”

“Rough day?” He’s pulling plates down now and retrieving a glass for himself from the cabinet.

“Rough week. Rough few weeks, really.” You take a few more sips as you watch him prepare a plate of food. You figure he’s just making his own, and you wait patiently for him to finish so you won’t be in the way. But when he makes his way around the counter, he’s holding two plates in his hand and wow you want to jump from your spot and kiss him. You restrain yourself, as hard as it may be, and try to focus on the question he’s asking you.

He holds the plates towards the table and then towards where you sit on the couch, silently wanting to know where you’d prefer to enjoy your meal. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to move closer, knowing how much effort it would take to lift yourself from your warm, comfy spot to go eat at the table.

“Emily still on vacation?”

“Yes! And she expects us to do double the work while she’s gone! It’s her 3rd vacation this year. I know she’s the boss but..”

“Doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch to you.” He finishes your sentence for you, brow furrowed, upset at even the idea of someone mistreating you in the slightest.

“Right! Thank you!”

You hold your hand out to accept the plate he’s made for you, “Got our usual, hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I was just joking earlier about you paying for all of it. I’ll pay you back for my half.”

He’s already shaking his head no, stuffing a bite of food in his mouth, “It was my turn anyway, r‘member? You paid for those tacos we had last week.”

“Right, I did. Forgot about that.”

You watch him devour a few more bites, your eyes darting from your plate to his, “Yours looks better.”

“Huh?”

Maybe it’s the wine making you more bold, you’d normally never complain, “Your plate it just..looks better than mine. Switch with me.”

“It’s literally the same thing..and I’ve already eaten half the noodles off mine.” He looks mildly annoyed at even the suggestion.

“Don’t care..it looks better. Switch.” You realized just how bratty you sound, so you add a quick, “Please?”

He huffs dramatically, switching the plates and giving you a sarcastic smile, “Happy?”

You return his smile, blissfully unaware of his annoyance in your tipsy state, “Very, thank you.”

You both turn your attention to the tv you realize now you had forgotten to pause, so the movie had progressed further, about 30 minutes in now.

His irritation has already faded when he asks, “What are y’making me watch?”

You start to explain the plot but stop mid-bite of your food, “Wait..have you never seen this movie?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Oh we’re definitely starting it over then!”

“No, ya don’t hafta..”

It’s too late, you’ve already discarded your now mostly empty plate of food, nearly knocking your glass of wine over in your excitement of making him watch one of your favorite movies.

Almost an hour in, you don’t notice that Harry’s eyes have drifted to you. In fact, they’d mostly stayed on you since you’d restarted the movie. Your facial expressions were better to him than any movie; the way your eyes softened at the more heartwarming parts, or when your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ and gasped at parts he was certain you had probably seen at least a dozen times before.

You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically and he doesn’t even flinch, just listens intently when you say, “I love this part..this is the moment.”

His eyes temporarily flash back to the tv then, “The moment?”

“Yeah, you know, the moment. Where the guy looks at the girl and realizes he’s in love.” You sigh deeply, “I always wanted someone to look at me like that.”

Oh, you mean like what’s happening now between us? God he hopes for just a glance from you, a chance to show you that you’re living your own moment now if you’d just look at him.

It’s tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop it, his mouth working faster than his brain, but it’s a low enough whisper he thinks maybe you won’t hear.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

You do hear him, though you don’t believe it at first. Your hand is still resting over your heart, searching his face for any sign of teasing or dishonesty.

“H..did you just..?”

He’s looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with one of the rings adorning his fingers, nodding before replying, “I did.”

“How long?”

“Um..since the first week we’ve lived together? That first night we made dinner together and it was a disaster. Thought you were gonna catch the place on fire.” A giggle escapes him at the memory of you, rushing around the kitchen that night, face flushed red and hair a mess.

“That’s my moment? Almost burning our apartment down?”

“That and now, yeah. Just been strugglin’ with the best way to tell you. S’pose the wine’s making me a lil’ more fearless,'' He takes a deep breath, still not able to look at you in case he finds even a hint of rejection on your face, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same..”

“I do.”

His head snaps to look at you then, eyes widening for a second before he composes himself, “Really?”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms across your face at the sight of the thrill in his eyes. There’s a new buzz of elation in the air, but neither of you make a move at first. A pleasant tension fills the space between the two of you.

You break the silence, “So..what do we do now?”

“S’all up to you how fast and how far we take this. M’all in though, ready when you are, love. A cuddle might be nice while we finish the movie, if you’re up f’that.”

“I think I could handle that. I want something else first though.”

He’s trying to read your mind, thinks he knows exactly what it is, but he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear the words he’s been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime now.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

You’ve already turned your body towards him; the movie, the food and the wine all long forgotten. He clears the space between the two of you easily, a hand on the side of your neck to add just enough pressure to pull you towards him.

Your lips crash against his, noses bumping at first but it doesn’t stop you, it only makes you crave him deeper and closer. You press your knees into his thighs, pushing yourself up so that you hover over him, your hair falling around his face. It’s still slightly damp from the shower, and his hand comes to rest on the back of your head now.

There’s a smug look on his face when he pulls away, a hand still placed on your hip to hold you steady. He’s still breathless when he asks, “Did you use my shampoo?”

When you wake up in his bed the next morning, you question if last night was a mistake. You don’t regret it, not for a second, just wonder if maybe things will be different in the morning light.

So when you barely touch the plate of eggs and toast he’s made for you for breakfast, he worries you’re having second thoughts about him, that he’s ruined any friendship you’ve already built by rushing into a relationship.

So when you say, “Did you really mean what you said last night..about loving me?” He visibly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and beaming at you from across his own breakfast plate.

“Oh, darlin’,” He plucks a piece of uneaten toast from your plate, winking at you as he does, “You don’t know the half of it.”

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

A heavenly reunion pt. 2; Queen x reader

*Author's note*

And here's the last part of our last chapter of the Rock Angel series.

First of all I just wanna thank ALL OF YOU for your support. This was the FIRST fic I wrote that got me into the Queen/BoRhap fandom and (much like my Bad Wolf series) "Set it all free" was just gonna be a one-time oneshot. But YOU, the people on tumblr inspired me to make this into a series, so thanks to you guys for your lovely support of this series, cause without you, I don't know if I would've continued on after a few chapters till it might've caught up with "Set it all free". But thank you all, you guys are BEYOND AWESOME and I love each and every one of you.

Until the next update :)

ALSO LISTEN TO THE MUSIC CHOICES BELOW. CAUSE THIS PART IS A HEART-PULLER/TEAR-JERKER.

*Final ROCK ANGEL taglist (sniffles sadly)*

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@sparkleslightlyy

@starswin

@onebigfangirlworld

@labessieisallama

@naturalswifty89

@5sos-wdw

@isabella-bby

@ssa-sadboi

@bohemiansweede

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

____________________________________________________________

"(Y/n), (y/n)." I felt someone shake my arm gently trying to wake me up. I looked up and I turned to see Brian sitting by my bedside.

"What Bri?" I tiredly groaned.

"Come downstairs with me, there's someone else the guys and I want you to meet."

"Do I have to get dressed?"

"I think you'll be just fine love. C'mon." He helped me get up and wrapped an arm around my shoulders guiding me down the stairs since I was still bloody tired.

We soon arrived in the piano room right where I had first met David and Elton. The first thing I notice was the other three queens all grinning at me, like they were keeping something from me but wanted to tell me.

"What's going on here?" I asked wearily.

"Darling, as I'm sure Brian told you, we have some people we'd like you to meet." Freddie spoke up.

"Guys if it's any of the singers that have long passed before my time, I think I met them all last night at the concert."

"Well these two are artists you haven't met." He finished for me. At this point I was confused. It was then Roger spoke up.

"It took us several meetings with the 'Big man' himself, to allow you to meet these two who have been waiting an eternity to see you again."

"Again?" I asked. They all smiled widely at each other and that's when Deacy opened up the slide in door and two figures came walking in.

PLAY VIDEO

Two figures I had not seen, in a very, very, very long time. The man looked to be in his mid-30's with shoulder length (h/c) and (e/c) eyes, he was semi built not overly muscular but not quite twig-like thin. The woman was around her early 30's if not late 20's the youngest being 28 with midback (h/c) and bright (e/c).

"Again." The man said. I was gaping, my body froze and I felt like collapsing there crying hysterically.

For standing there before me were none other than my parents.

"We've been waiting a long time for you (Y/n)," my mum started off.

"It's been far too long but now you're finally here." I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes began to fill with tears as I choked out.

"After all this time you two were both here just waiting for me to finally arrive just so that I can fall to the ground and cry hysterically. Dreaming of the day when I—I would try to figure out what to say to you both when I would see you if I ever saw you. And now it—it's finally happening. You two standing before me....." as I spoke, both my parents slowly walked toward me with soft eyes. "And I can't even......I just can't believe it. You two are actually here?"

"Yes my darling little cub, every day for your whole life." My mum said as she cupped my face in her hands. Tears of happiness glistened in her eyes as she praised me through a lump in her throat, "And we are so, so proud of you." I looked down but she still kept hold of my face.

"Oh mummy, daddy!" My mum immediately hugged me as tight as she could as we both wept. I nuzzled my face into her chest as she held onto me so tightly while stroking through my hair.

*3rd Person POV*

As they watched the two women hug each other, Freddie and Deacy who stood side by side each other couldn't help but have their hands over their hearts at such a moment. They all have heard the stories of her parents and whatever photos she had saved back home, so they knew what her parents looked like.

But now finally seeing (Y/n) reunite with the parents she had lost at such a young age, forced to being verbally abused by her aunt and uncle it was just heartwarming yet heartbreaking to see this touching and well-earned reunion.

After being tightly embraced and kissed beyond oblivion by her mum, (Y/n) felt a hand at her shoulder and saw it was her dad. He smiled and allowed his tears to fall as he embraced his daughter.

Roger and Brian, being the father figures for her down on earth were all smiles and teary eyed at seeing their surrogate daughter finally reunited with her real father once more. They had the privilege to help protect her in her young adult life, but they knew they'd never compare to the actual love this man had for his little girl.

(F/n) cupped his daughter's face gently in his strong, calloused hands and wiped away his daughter's tears before giving her a kiss on the nose, like he's done in the past. A move that Brian never knew her own father did, but was honored to have given (Y/n) a piece of affection that her real father had done.

By the end of it all, (Y/n) ended up sandwiches between her parents by the end as they were now on their knees. Her head buried into her father's chest as his arms were wrapped around her back while her mum rested her head against her daughter's and had her arms wrapped around her daughter's waist. (F/n) looked up at the four band members and said gratefully.

"Thank you." The four queens nodded and Deacy said.

"We'll give you three some privacy."

"No, please stay!" (Y/n) whimpered out. "I want my whole family here right now." At hearing that statement, who were the boys to deny their Rock Angel. With acceptance from the parents, the four men all got in on the group hug.

(Y/n) once more surrounded by the people that had loved her the most.

With some major convincing as well to bring her parents here to the 'Rock heaven' Queen and the Rock Angel had here, they also managed to move a quiet little cottage just up the road for (f/n) and (m/n) to live in.

When (y/n) and the boys went to visit the house, (y/n) was amazed to see that it looked exactly like her childhood home before she was forced into the hell house of her aunt and uncle. It was all the same, the tan wallpaper, the curtains, the bookshelves, the little TV, everything.

*My POV*

Wow, my parents and my boys together. I can't believe how lucky I am. Now my heaven really is the best of both worlds. And I never want to be away from it again.

We were all gathered around the dinner table for some well deserved breakfast. My mum was cooking in the kitchen with Deacy helping her out while me, my dad and Brian were setting up the table and as for Fred, Roger and my dad were out talking in the backyard.

"Breakfast is ready!" my mum called out from the window. Her and Deacy began bringing in the dishes and even Brian helped out with some of the biscuits.

"Mhm, mum this is so good. Just as I remembered breakfast being." As I took a bite of my pancakes.

"I'm glad you still love it dear. I was worried I had prepared it wrong."

"Nonsense, your cooking is superb (m/n) darling!" Freddie proclaimed.

"That's what I've always told you love." My dad said.

"You're just saying that because I was the cook of the family. Poor man can't even boil an egg without setting it on fire."

"Well that's one thing you and Rog have in common." Deacy teased.

"I got better didn't I?"

"Ten years later, the guy tried to poison us one time during our Japan tour." Brian spoke up.

"You know what Brian?" Roger started as Brian gave him a mocking look.

"Alright boys enough. No fighting at the table!" My mum scolded.

"Sorry Mrs. (l/n)." they both said. Even though they were technically older than my mum, she still had them on their toes. My mum maybe a sweetheart but I guess I inherited my fierceness from her. Screw with her and she blows up and attacks like a lioness.

"Anyways I can't tell you how proud we were of your performance last night (y/n)."

"You both saw the concert?"

"Of course. The Heaven rock and roll concert is open to everyone in heaven that has passed on. So long as you have a love for music and respect the artists that go up there, anyone is welcome to watch. And you were amazing up there love." My dad said.

"Taught her everything she knows, poor dear completely changed after I helped her gain some confidence to own the stage." Freddie said as he playfully ruffled my hair.

"Oh don't we know it, she was always such a shy girl." Mum said.

"Mum." I groaned out.

"In fact, wait right here." She stood up and went over to the bookshelf and pulled out a familiar red album book.

"Oh my god." I muttered.

"Now I have seen that you boys have been neglected in seeing your beloved Rock Angel in her childhood years."

"Mum, mum no!" I begged her. She then turned to Roger and said his name with a wide smile. "Mum, mum please don't!" It soon turned into an all breakout of me trying to take the album away before anyone could reach it, while my mum and the guys were all saying yes.

My mum and I were having a bit of tussle with her trying to give the album to Roger and me trying to stop it. But Roger soon intervened and grabbed the book and it was then I was screwed. I let out a groan and tapped out.

"Okay that's it, goodbye. I'm outta here."

"Oh no you don't, come back here dear." I was pulled back by Fred who kept me in his lap as the album was opened and the guys all either pulled pictures out from the album or passed the book along. My parents each explaining what either photo meant or how old I was in the picture.

Freddie had the picture of me petting a goat and riding a pony. He fawned over the pictures and flipped it over to see that those pictures were from my 5th birthday at petting zoo that was located on a farm about 20 miles away from our house.

"She always wanted to be a ballerina when she was 3 years old." My mum explained as Deacy soon turned a picture over to show me a picture of 3 year old me in a princess tiara and ballerina outfit and tutu. Giving me that pouty face of his almost as if saying 'look at you baby sister.'

"That girl never took that leotard and tutu off for a straight week. Even slept in it every night." I buried my face into my hands as I heard the boys laugh.

Oh god this was embarrassing!

This is why I never wanted the boys to see this album but I should've known that if my parents were in heaven, they'd have this album with them.

I don't know how long the torture was but I was relieved when it finally ended. Of course the boys kept fawning of just how adorable I was and why I kept the fact that I was such a cute child from them this long.

"Alright you all done now?" I asked impatiently as I finally stood up from Fred's lap.

"Oh come off it love, do you have any idea how long we have waited to see these pictures?" Brian stated.

"Too damn long. Now I've got eternal blackmailing against you sister dear." Deacy tormented as he came over to me and got me in a headlock and gave me a noogie.

"Mum! Deacy's trying to blackmail me!" I whined out.

"Tattletale." He grumbled.

"Now, now Deacy don't go blackmailing my daughter." My mum stated firmly as she and Brian began cleaning up the now finished breakfast plates and pans.

"Sorry Mrs. (L/n)." Deacy said. But Roger stood up and whispered something in Deacy's ear and I could see the mischief in both their eyes as they shook hands with each other.

God I only knew trouble was going to come from this, whatever it was that they had planned.

As the day went on, we were back at Garden Lodge studios merely relaxing under the warm sun out in the gardens. I was sitting with Brian and Freddie going over our next concert game plan for tonight's show.

Occasionally I was petting either Bucky or Freddie's two cats Oscar and Romeo who were lying right side by side with Bucky. While Roger and Deacy were playing frisbee with Sammy.

"Something troubling you darling?" asked Freddie. I turned toward him and Brian who were both looking at me concerned.

"I guess."

"You guess?" questioned Brian.

"This may sound silly but....how do you check in on the family and friends you've left behind?"

"You miss Jack and the kids, don't you?" Freddie said. I looked down solemnly.

"It was just so painful for them to see me as I was in my final years. I—just want to make sure they're all okay, especially Jack." They nodded and that's when Freddie said.

"There is a way. Come with me darling." He stood up and helped me onto my feet and we walked back to the house.

We were up in the basement studio and said as he stood in front of the window separating the booth and the lounge area with the controls.

"If at any time we need to see the ones we love, the way to them is through the thing we love. Touch the glass and it'll show your heart's desire." I looked at him like he was crazy but he just nodded telling me to do it. I placed my hand on the glass and said.

"I'd like to see my husband and children, please." Soon the glass shined a light and soon an image of Jack came up.

He was lying in what looked like a hospital bed and I saw our four kids surrounding him, looking like they were about to break down crying.

"Jack." I muttered sadly. "Is he....."

"I don't know darling. He may or he may not. We cannot determine that. All we can do is watch. It pains me because I had to live it so many times seeing you, the lads, David, Elton and my family pass on."

"But he promised me he'd watch out for them after I was gone."

"Guess he couldn't live without the love of his life." The image then disappeared leaving me feel empty and heartbroken. "Oh (y/n)." he softly cooed before I felt his arms wrap around me and I buried my face into his chest as I softly wept.

By around supper time we were back at my parent's place all getting ready to sit down and eat. I was sitting between my dad and Roger while in front of me was Deacy.

I was currently piddling around with my mashed potatoes suddenly not having an appetite after what I had just witnessed.

"Everything okay love?" I heard Roger say.

"Hmm." I hummed.

"Use your words baby girl, now c'mon what's going on?" asked my dad.

"I—I guess I'm not in the mood for potatoes."

"I've got a nice apple pie cooling in the kitchen." Suggested my mum.

"No thanks mum." I set my fork down and sighed solemnly as I leaned against my chair. Before any other questions could be asked we heard the doorbell ring. I felt Rog gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear before standing up giving me a gentle peck on the top of my head and heading towards the door.

I felt my dad wrap his arm around me allowing me to lean against him.

"Hey (y/n)." I heard Roger say. I looked up at my dad and he told me to go on before kissing the top of my head just like Rog did and I walked from the kitchen over to the front hallway. "Someone's here to see you." He stepped aside and standing there was Jack.

He looked about the exact age when I first met him. The short sandy blonde hair, same outfit, and those same gentle greenish-blue eyes that made my knees grow week.

"Hey (y/n)." I walked right up to him and didn't say a word. "I—god I didn't expect to be here like this but.....look at you. It's like you hadn't aged a day. I—" I gave him a firm slap across the face. He looked at me in shock and I snapped.

"I thought you promised to take care of our kids! The grandkids!"

"I'm sorry but I....when I told you on the day we sailed to Capri for our honeymoon that I would die rather than live a lifetime without you, I literally meant it. I did try to be strong but the stress of the press of them bringing you up. Hounding our children and grandchildren just....." I cut him off by cupping his face and kissing him.

He was stunned for a moment but he relaxed as I felt his arms wrap around my waist and he deepened the kiss. I felt him pick me up and spin me around along the front porch before finally setting me down.

"I've missed you." I whispered.

"I've missed you. I've missed you soo much." I could just see the pain in his eyes. He wasn't just meaning after my death. Since he's had to suffer for 3 years due to my dementia making my mind deteriorate, making me forget him most days or who our kids were. He cupped the side of my face and captured my lips once more.

"So this is the young boy who stole my little girl's heart in the end?" we were forced to separate as not only my parents but the rest of Queen now stood by the front door entrance. Jack looked at my mum and dad wide eyed and said.

"Are—are those two....."

"Jack darling, there are two very special people you haven't met yet. I'd like you to meet my mother (m/n) and father (f/n). Mum, dad this is Jack." Mum was the first one to walk up to Jack with a warm smile.

"So this is the famous Jack Kline. Let me get a good look at you," she placed her hands on his shoulders forcing him to separate from me just a bit as she observed him. She nodded and said with a warm smile, "I'm glad I can finally say this to you in person (Y/n), you definitely picked yourself a handsome young man."

"Thanks mum."

"Thank you Mrs.—"

"Please Jack we're family. Call me mum." She said as she gently cupped the side of his face. He smiled and said.

"Okay.....mom." She hugged him and even though he was at first shocked, he gladly embraced my mum back.

After their embrace he came back towards me and he whispered in my ear, "You look so much like her."

"That's what the guys have been saying all day." I whispered back.

"So glad to see you here with us Jack darling." Freddie said.

"Freddie!" Jack said happily as the two of them hugged each other. Freddie kissed both of my husband's cheeks and said.

"You've done good Jack dear. I've been watching you along with that beautiful wife of yours. And thank you for naming your last baby after me."

"It was really (y/n)'s idea. I just agreed to it. It—felt right at the time."

"Well I appreciate it nonetheless." Jack then turned to Brian who smiled at my husband and the two of them embraced each other as Brian also ruffled my husband's hair.

"Good to see you again Jack."

"And you too Brian. It wasn't the same without you. I still never got the chance to beat you at Scrabble."

"And you never will." Brian bragged.

"It's true my dear, even I have yet to beat him once again, you bastard!" Freddie pipped in. When Jack finally turned towards Deacy, I thought he was going to just breakdown.

"Jack."

"Deacy, I—is it......"

"Who else did you expect, John Lennon?" Jack softly choked out a laugh before Deacy brought him into a hug. I couldn't help but awe at the sweet reunion.

I knew Jack had waited so long to be reunited with his brother, his mentor and dearest friend.

He blamed himself after Deacy's death thinking had he been there for him more, he could've somehow prevented him from dying, even when I assured him that there wasn't anything he nor I could do.

So this was his closure, and I was happy to see that he got it.

After they separated from each other, Deacy playfully ruffed Jack's hair much like Brian did in that typical 'big brother' kind of way.

"I'm sorry. If I—had I know I could've....."

"Hey, it wasn't your fault okay Jack. Listen to me, okay? None of it was your doing. You understand that?" he nodded and embraced Deacy once more.

"I missed you Deacy."

"And I missed you too, my little protegee." It was then the only person he had yet to meet face to face was my dad.

My dad approached him and eyed him up and down as well as circled around him a few times like a lion circling its prey before going for the kill.

"I have seen everything that's happened with my little girl." He told him straight forward.

"E-everything?" Jack choked out nervously.

"Oh yes, everything. But if I had to say out of any guy that tried to win my baby girl's hand. I'm glad it was you son." It seemed to ease Jack's nervousness that was until, "and I was thankful to have another set of eyes looking after my little girl the way I would see fit of the situation, don't you agree Roger?"

"Indeed (f/n)." Roger stated smugly as the two of them clasped hands with each other.

"Dad!" I whined out which made both my real and surrogate fathers chuckle. "But we don't need to worry about this one. He's a good chap."

"Alright enough with the interrogation. Now that we have an extra guest, let's adjust the table and get him some good quality food." I smiled and we all returned back inside for a good meal and some long catching up and family bonding.

Now I won't deny it but I refuse to state that Jack finally got his wish of seeing all of my baby pictures and of course the guys wanted another look at them along with Jack as both my parents told every embarrassing story they could remember from when I was 2 till before the crash.

About a month later the theme for this coming concert was a 'cover performance'. Each artist got the chance to do an entire set based off of their own cover versions of different artists songs. The boys and I got to do songs from Bowie, Elvis, and the Beatles and right now we were gonna take things down a notch.

Brian and I stood by the piano, me sitting on top of it and he sitting at the benches.

"Right first of all we'd like to thank you all once again for coming to see us, it's really been a blast. This next song was written by the wonderful, talented and legend Diana Ross. This song was written for an animated film that hit number 1 in Japan. This is 'If we hold on together'." Brian then began playing the piano and he looked right up at me as he began the song first.

PLAY VIDEO

I joined in on the second bridge staring right back at him before the two of us joined in together in a beautiful duet. His high range angelic voice and my mellow but soft alto voice blended like a beautiful concoction.

*Brian*

Don't lose your way With each passing day You've come so far Don't throw it away

Live believing Dreams are for weaving Wonders are waiting to start *Me*

Live your story Faith, hope and glory Hold to the truth in your heart

*Both*

If we hold on together I know our dreams will never die Dreams see us through to forever The clouds roll by For you and I

Bri and I touched forehead with each other smiling lovingly at each other. The spotlight shined once again but this time on Roger as he lead the next verse gently beating on the drums before being accompanied by Freddie's voice.

*Roger*

Souls in the wind Must learn how to bend Seek out a star Hold on to the end Valley, mountain There is a fountain Washes our tears all away Waves are swaying Somebody is praying Please let us come home to stay

*Roger and Freddie*

If we hold on together I know our dreams will never die Dreams see us through to forever As clouds roll by For you and I

Freddie soon took over for a brief solo, his powerful voice moving the crowd before Rog and Bri joined in. Showing off the three voices that helped make most of the Queen songs as powerful as they were.

*Freddie*

When we are out there in the dark We'll dream about the sun *Freddie, Brian and Roger*

In the dark we'll feel the light Warm our hearts, everyone

Much like Deacy always did whenever they performed Liar, he came right up beside me up close to my mic and the two of us sung together the brief duet before the other three members joined in. And I couldn't help but wrap my arm around my big brother as the two of us sang, and I even felt his arm go around my waist as out heads touched each other's lovingly.

But as we reached the final part of the song, Freddie and Roger joined Brian, Deacy and I at the piano. The five of us coming back together as a family as our voices sung in perfect harmony.

*Me and Deacy*

If we hold on together I know our dreams will never die *All*

Dreams see us through to forever As high as souls can fly The clouds roll by For you and I

We all looked at each other before finally embracing each other in a loving group hug. I patted Roger and Deacy's backs rubbing them as the crowd roared with applause and if anyone had no heart, I'm betting everyone was probably crying, just like we all were at this very moment.

"I love you guys." I said to them into my microphone.

(A/N GO TO 1:37)

The five of us were gathered at the top of a cliffside hill right by the old oak tree with a swing set that once was near my childhood home back on Earth. We all were sat along the edge of small cliff just looking out toward the sky, speaking not a word just enjoying the company of just being together.

As the sun began to rise, the guys all looked down at me and I looked up at them. All four of them just smiling lovingly down at me. Brian pulled me up onto his lap resting his chin on my head, giving it a kiss, Roger rested his head against my left shoulder wrapped his arm around me as he nuzzled against my head kissing my cheek or temple every now and then, I soon felt two different pressures on my lap.

I looked down to see Freddie and Deacy laying head to head of each other on my lap. I stroked through their hairs and down their faces and I felt each of them kiss either my palm or the back of my hand. While they each lifted up a hand to caress my face or wipe away a hidden happy tear that wanted to escape.

This is how I wanted every post-concert performance, every day, every eternity to be like. Here with the four boys that weren't just rockstars to me, but family.

If there was anything I had to say about all of this; if you had told me to describe my life in three simple words, I would always tell you this.

Best. Internship. Ever.

69 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Newbie

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 3,786 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Self-confidence issues, Canon-typical violence Summary: On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she gets nervous. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to A03 or read below! On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she’s a little bit nervous—change your outfit three times, run your Keurig with no cup underneath, hair up? hair down? hair up? nervous—so she takes a deep, steadying breath before pushing open the glass double doors that lead to the bullpen.

She took cues about attire from other people she saw the day of her interview, so today she is wearing a simple black and white dress with pumps and gold jewelry, and she feels she fits in, but she gets more than a few curious looks when she enters.

Her instructions are to report to Agent Hotchner’s office first thing, but she is stopped on her way there by a tall, handsome, impeccably dressed man with a frankly gorgeous smile. He’s Black, with a shaved head and a great voice, and suddenly she doesn’t mind the interference.

“Hi, I’m Derek Morgan. You’re Sophia Cortes, right? Hotch mentioned you were starting today.” She smiles warmly.

“Yes, pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sophie,” she says, reaching out a hand for a shake. “Agent Hotchner told me you’re from Chicago, and so am I. Please say you aren’t a White Sox fan.” His smile becomes even brighter, if possible. She might be halfway in love with him already.

“God, no. If you want to watch good baseball, it’s the Cubs all the way.” She laughs lightly, happy to have a little rapport with a new colleague so soon.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m glad there’s a little more color in the office now,” he jokes, and she understands where he’s coming from completely. It’s bad enough to be the only woman in the room, sometimes, but when she’s also the only person of color, she feels… inadequate, somehow. Like she has to work twice as hard to be seen, even though she literally stands out among her peers.

A blonde woman with a fair complexion and pretty, almost doll-like facial features steps up behind him, and he looks over, introduces her.

“Sophie Cortes, this is Jennifer Jareau, our Communications Director.”

“Everyone calls me JJ,” she says with a smile and a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. If you’re the Communications Director, you’ve got the toughest job in the unit, then.” JJ looks surprised, then nods her head.

“Absolutely, but don’t tell them that. They’d never believe you,” she says with a playful shove of Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t let being a profiler go to your head like this guy.”

“Who, me? I’m as down to earth as the next devastatingly handsome guy.”

“Yeah, right,” a voice says from her right, and Sophie turns to see a woman approaching them with pale skin and dark hair, bangs, a kind smile. “We love you and all, but you’re a little cocky.”

“Is it being cocky when I’m that good, though?” he asks with a wink, and Sophie already feels more at ease just hearing them talk with each other. She can get acclimated to anything when the environment is right. “This is my partner, Emily Prentiss. Prentiss, this is Sophie Cortes. The new newbie.” She sets down her bag, heads over to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Sophie. Love the dress.” Sophie thanks her for the compliment. “I appreciate you taking the newbie title from me; fair warning, you’ll probably be here for five years before they stop calling you that.”

“Ah, I’ve been called worse, I’ll take it.” She glances around their workspace, looks up to Derek. “Is my partner here? Dr. Reid, right?”

“Oh, he texted, said his train is running late,” JJ explains. “He’s really excited to meet you, though, so don’t mind if he’s a little… overwhelming, when he does get here.”

“You’ll fall in love with the kid, everyone does,” Derek explains, and it makes her heart feel warm. This is definitely a team she wants to be a part of. “But he can be intense.”

“I appreciate the heads up.” Before she can say any more, Agent Hotchner descends the stairs, heads toward them.

“Good morning. I can see the team has taken the liberty of introducing themselves.”

“Hello again, Agent Hotchner.” Sophie shakes his hand, and he smiles softly.

“Hotch, please. You can put your things in that desk and I’ll give you a tour, if you’d like.”

“Sure, sounds great.” The team shares a brief look, but she doesn’t know them well enough to comment, just stows her belongings and follows the unit chief. “The team was very welcoming. They seem really tight knit,” she comments as they leave the bullpen, and he looks at her, nods.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, traveling as we do, it’s inevitable. Was it not that way in Intelligence?”

“You couldn’t get those people to sit down to dinner together, let alone tease one another. They’d probably bite each other’s heads off.” They worked well together, but in private the environment could be pretty toxic. She knows Unit Chief Roberts wouldn’t have put up with it if the team didn’t get such good results.

“I can see how this environment might seem a little strange, then,” he says, opening the door for her. They take the elevator.

“Strange, but good. It reminds me of when I was a cop, and I’ve missed that kind of camaraderie.”

“Well I’m glad you felt welcomed. We really are happy to have you.” They approach a closed door which he raps on lightly; the woman who answers has a bright smile and an even brighter outfit, lime green and navy blue, with matching accessories, including green glasses. She makes Sophie feel very… plain.

“Oh, hi!” the woman says, and her grin gets bigger. “Wow, you’re beautiful.” Sophie laughs, a little taken aback, and Hotch sighs lightly like he’s used to the odd behavior. It’s all very endearing.

“This is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst. Garcia, this is Sophia Cortes, our new profiler.” She reaches out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Sophie, or Cortes, whichever you prefer. And you’re beautiful, too. I love your style.”

“Thank you; I can tell we’re going to be fast friends. You’ll have me on speed dial,” she says, walking to her desk and jotting something down on a pink Post-It. “If you need something researched, narrowed down, blown up, compared, etc, I’m your girl.” She hands her the note—her direct line—and smiles. “I’m sure you have much more to see, but don’t be a stranger!”

Something tells Sophie she won’t be.

He shows her all around the office—copiers, the breakroom, supply closets, restrooms—and they end up in the briefing room, the last two to walk in.

“You remember Gideon,” Hotch says, and the man nods a greeting. Still as personable as ever, she thinks. “And this is your partner, Dr. Spencer Reid.” She’s not surprised by his age—she read some articles about him once she had his name, knows they call him ‘boy genius’ quite literally—but she is a little thrown by his nervous smile, his dark eyes, his untidy flop of brown hair. Derek wasn’t kidding when he called him kid; he looks like he belongs at an after school chess club meeting, or something.

He’s adorable. Like a puppy. She immediately wants to keep him. She smiles wide.

“Sophia Cortes, but you can call me Sophie, if you like.” He stands, and they shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard all about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I hear you’re from Chicago. Did you know Chicago is home to 2,716,450 residents living in over 100 neighborhoods?” She smiles wider.

“Yeah, with 600 parks, 500 playgrounds, 29 beaches, and 26 miles of open lakefront. It’s beautiful. Have you been?”

“We worked a case there, once. I didn’t get to see any parks or beaches.” He makes a frowning kind of face and she laughs softly, takes the seat Hotch offers her.

“Well you’re young, there’s time.”

“Now that we’re all caught up on introductions, we can get started,” Hotch states, and Sophie’s first morning meeting begins.

It’s a little boring, as far as first days go, but she doesn’t mind. She has access to her computer, gets it set up the way she wants, finds out from the team where all the best places are nearby for coffee or drinks or lunch. She meets with the section chief for introductions, goes over some policies with Hotch—who, she was right, is definitely funnier and more thoughtful than he must let on. He probably feels like he has to act a certain way, because he’s the boss, but she likes pulling the human out of him, makes it a personal mission going forward to make him smile.

He’s too handsome not to smile. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case.

“I usually like to let new profilers get acclimated to the team before going into the field,” Hotch tells her as they board the plane, “but it didn’t make sense to keep you in Quantico. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here, I want to help.” She stows her bag overhead. “I’ll observe, give my input when I have it, follow everyone’s lead.”

“Sounds good. You know you can come to any of us if you have questions.”

“I know. Thank you.”

They do a deeper debrief on the plane—three women have been murdered, all in their mid 30’s, athletic and blonde, last seen dropping their children off at school—and Sophie is tasked with going to the most recent crime scene with Hotch and Prentiss.

“What can you tell about him so far?” Hotch asks her while the detective on the case speaks with Prentiss about some details of the scene. She glances around the room, takes it all in.

“Well, there’s blood everywhere. Serious overkill each time. He either knew the victims, or has a deep-seated hatred for a woman they remind him of; my money is on is the latter.” She looks through the kitchen, at the bloody footprints that lead to the back door. “Tracked blood all through the house, left the back door open. He’s disorganized. He may have seen them at the school and planned to follow them home, but he didn’t do any pre-surveillance on them. Something about these women triggers him and he acts within the hour.”

“Would you call it a crime of passion, then?” She looks over, curious, then realizes he’s testing her.

“No. A crime of passion indicates some level of culpability by the victim. Provocation. These women are just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong face.” He nods, satisfied with her answer.

“So how do we think he’s finding the victims?”

“He could have a child under his care who goes to that school, or he could live near the school, work there. He could work the night shift somewhere else and pass the school on his way home. I think it’s too early to narrow that down.”

“Any idea what weapon he used?”

“We would have to really examine the cast off to be certain, but my guess would be… a hammer, or some other small, blunt tool. This wasn’t done by a baseball bat or a shovel or something larger. We can also get an estimated height and weight of the unsub if we chart the area void of blood here,” she adds, pointing to a bare spot on the wall with blood droplets above and around it. “I’m guessing we’ll send the photos to Garcia for analysis.”

“That’s right. I agree with your assessment,” he begins, but she senses hesitation.

“But?” He looks over at her, thoughtful.

“We’re missing something.”

“We are, or I am?” she asks for clarification, and he smiles just slightly.

“We are.” She takes that as a good sign, walks another loop around the room for something they would have overlooked, and she brightens when she thinks she’s discovered it.

“Her purse is still here, cash, credit cards. Her jewelry was still on her body when she was found. But does it look to you like something’s missing from the entryway table?” She points to it, and it’s very ordinary: a calendar, a bowl for change, hooks for keys, a couple of photographs—with a notable blank space in the middle. “Maybe a photo?”

“We should ask the husband if he knows what was there. Good work,” he tells her, and he heads off in the direction of the husband; she follows close behind.

Back at the precinct, the team fills each other in on what they’ve learned.

“So our unsub killed each of these women with a ball-peen hammer, striking 8-10 times. Blood spatter analysis puts him at about 5’11”, 6’0” tall, around 275 pounds. The photo taken from the third victim’s house was of the victim and her 7-year-old son Josh; similar photos were taken from the other two homes—photos of mother and son.” Prentiss tacks copies of the three missing photos to the board.

“Sounds like maybe the woman they remind him of is his mother,” Reid states.

“That’s what we’re going with. We’re still not sure how he finds his victims, though,” Prentiss mentions, and Sophie takes a breath, hesitates.

“Do you have something?” Morgan asks and she shrugs, unsure.

“Maybe? One of the theories we threw out there was that he works overnight and drives past the school on his way home from work, when the kids are being dropped off. If he killed them with a ball-peen hammer, maybe we should look for machine shops in the area with overnight shifts? Those are typically used in metalworking, not construction.” She feels like all eyes are on her, and it makes her nervous. “That could be completely irrelevant, it’s just a thought.”

“It’s a good thought; I’ll have Garcia pull us a list, we can split up and pass around the description, see if our guy is a metal worker. Good call, newbie.” Morgan leaves to take the call, and JJ leans over with a smile.

“Don’t second guess yourself. You’re doing great so far. Theories are important, even if they’re wrong.” Sophie returns the expression, nods.

“Thanks. I’ve just gotta get used to the collaborative environment; haven’t been in one of those in a while.”

“You’d never know it. You’re fitting right in.” She takes it as a compliment, is happy to be of some use to the investigation and not just getting in the way.

The rest of the day is pretty quiet; they test out a few other possible theories, deliver the profile to the late shift, plan to hit the school early in the morning to look for potential suspects and to pass around the description to see if anyone meets it who works there, or lives nearby.

She goes to the school with Reid and JJ, speaks to teachers, janitorial staff, but none of them know a man like the one they’re looking for. She meets up with the others, who were speaking to parents, after about an hour of questioning, but they also come up blank.

“We’ve still got your machine shop theory,” Reid says as they drive back to the precinct. “The others should be done with those soon, so there’s still a chance we can find this guy today.” JJ’s phone rings, and she answers on the car bluetooth.

“JJ, there’s been another attack,” Prentiss says. “1419 5th Street—you guys are closer. Can you head over?”

“We’re on the way,” JJ answers, turning right, and Reid looks thoughtful.

“An attack? She’s not dead?”

“No. Not yet, at least. She’s being rushed to the hospital; her husband was home, caught the attacker in the middle of it all.”

“Did he get a good look at the unsub?” JJ asks.

“He’s with a sketch artist now. Hotch wants you to circulate the sketch ASAP; we think we may have a hit at one of the metal shops, if you can send it to me, too.”

“You got it.” She ends the call, looks at Sophie through the rearview mirror. “Drinks are on you tonight, newbie,” she says playfully, and Sophie can’t help but laugh. She had been so intimidated by the thought of joining the BAU, and she’s glad to see she’s useful, can actually help make a difference. It’s a feeling she won’t forget for a while.

Later that night, when they plan to try to catch the unsub before he leaves for work, she deflates, a little.

Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid are going to breach the unsub’s house while JJ covers the front door and Sophie covers the back. She had assumed she would get to be part of the team going in, with her tactical background, and immediately thinks the worst, that they’re happy to have her brain, but that her body is a hindrance. Too short, too weak… it’s how she’s been treated her whole life, and she hates to think that she’s being dismissed here so soon for the same reasons. She tries not to let it show, but she dwells on it, a little, lets it get her down even though she knows she shouldn’t.

She snaps out of it when there’s movement on the back porch, a hulking, shadowy figure in the darkness.

“I’ve got him coming out of the back,” she whispers into her comms, and she draws her gun and points it at the unsub. “Stop, FBI!” The guy turns to face her—he fits the sketch to a tee, a real mountain of a man as the blood spatter analysis suggested—takes one good look, and goes running in the other direction.

Alright, so, he’s clearly not impressed. She can work with that.

“He’s running, I’m in pursuit.” She holsters her weapon and her boots pound the grass as she books it his way. The good thing about being so much smaller than him is that she’s much faster, catches up to him fairly easily, and again, she shouts for him to stop, which, of course, he doesn’t.

Her first thought is that she’s got to get this guy on the ground no matter what—this isn’t a shoplifter or something, he’s wanted for murdering three women and attempting to murder a fourth, so a little force is okay if necessary, and judging by his build, it’s going to be necessary.

Her second thought is, if I can’t catch him, I don’t deserve to be here. And that’s the one that makes the decision for her.

She leaps onto his back, grabs fistfuls of his shirt, and shakes him forward, backward, forward again, trying to throw off his balance. When he starts to wobble, she slides down his back, hooking a leg around one of his and driving her knee into the bend of his; he goes down, face first, and she reaches behind her for her cuffs, slaps them on his wrists before he has a chance to turn or stand. “Jason Farber, you’re under arrest for three counts of murder and one count of attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder?” he asks, turning his face so he can speak more easily. He seems pretty calm for a runner, maybe just resigned to his fate, and she leans over so she can see him better. He’s breathing fine, uninjured, and just looks pissed. “You mean that overbearing bitch isn’t dead?”

“Yep, sorry to be the one to tell you, Jason, but she’s alive and kicking.” She continues to read him his rights, and is just pulling him to his feet when Morgan and Hotch skid to a stop behind her; if they look surprised… who is she kidding? They look surprised as fuck.

“Damn, Cortes. This guy’s like three of you,” Morgan marvels as she walks him back toward the cars so he can be tossed into the back of a black and white. “Did you make him an offer he couldn’t refuse?” She scoffs at that, and even the unsub snorts in amusement.

“She tackled me. Wasn’t counting on that.”

“I don’t think anybody was,” she admits, getting him into a cop car and shutting the door. She joins the rest of the team, gets a high-five from JJ.

“Hey, score one for the ladies. We never get to do any tackling.”

“She did better than I would have,” Reid admits without shame, and she laughs.

“It’s all in the legs. I lift chains at the gym.” He gives her a look like he’s got no idea what she’s talking about, which almost makes her laugh again. “You do pull-ups, but with chains around your legs.” She demonstrates, squatting and gesturing to her legs like she’s wrapping something around them.

“Okay, you’re the real deal, newbie,” Morgan says when she stands up fully. “Remind me not to run from you unless I want a face full of dirt.” The group breaks apart after that, but Hotch lingers, gives her a meaningful look when she makes eye contact.

“I bet that felt good.” She leans against the side of the SUV, feels a deep conversation coming on.

“It did. I’m stronger than I look, and sometimes it’s fun to be underestimated, but other times it gets really annoying.”

“I can imagine,” he says, nodding, and he mimics her posture. “I just want to make sure you know you don’t have anything to prove. I hired you for a reason.”

“I know. But I don’t like being a one-trick pony, and I’m definitely not waiting around for one of you guys when an unsub is on the move.”

“And I wouldn't expect you to. As for the ‘one-trick pony’ thing, that’s not how I see you at all. You’re extremely well-rounded, and that’s why I wanted you.” His eyes are kind, but penetrating, and she dips her head, nods.

“And that’s why I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“After what you’ve shown me the last two days, I don’t think that’s possible, but I want you to know you can come to me when something’s bothering you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know. I won’t forget it,” she assures, and he stands fully, cocks an eyebrow in her direction.

“I heard drinks are on you tonight,” he says with a straight face, and she laughs lightly.

“I guess we better get going before they run up the tab, then.”

They walk in companionable silence back to the SUV.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x original female character #criminal minds fanfic #latina original female character #hotch x original female character #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

47 notes · View notes

silverarmedassassin · 3 years

Text

Clandestine Meetings - One

Actor!Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 2488 | Warnings: None

A/N: Listen, I know I said this would be posted in "about an hour," but I have no self-control and it must be posted NOW.

Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I was having a bit of block. Thank you for reading and, if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think!❤️ If you want to be tagged, please send me a message or enter your url here!

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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It’s 10:30 by the time your boss stumbles into the office. Pepper Potts is usually the embodiment of poised and put together - sleek strawberry blonde hair either falling over her shoulders in beautiful waves or tied in a high ponytail; black pencil skirts and white blouses tucked neatly inside. But not today.

While the ponytail still sits high on her head, dark circles taint her usually smooth, pristine complexion. She’s fisting a to-go mug in one hand and her office mug in the other, already steaming with a fresh round of caffeine.

You hated days like these; mornings after Tony keeps her out late - either business or pleasure, you never know as you prefer not to pry into your bosses’ personal lives - were always interesting, to say the least. Pepper was never mean, and you were almost positive there wasn’t an unkind bone in her body. She was just off. And if she was off, it means you were off, resulting in your job being about one hundred times harder as you often had to play the roles of both assistant and editor.

“Good morning, Ms. Potts,” you finally greet as she sits down at her desk. She’s rummaging through her bag, growing more irritable as the seconds pass. She sighs before stopping to look up at you.

“Y/N, please. It’s been six months. Just call me Pepper.” You internally scoff at the insistence of being anything less than professional towards one of the smartest women you’ve ever encountered in your life, and she turns back to her treasure hunt. “Don’t tell me I left my laptop at home,” she whines to herself as she slumps down into her large executive chair.

You clear your throat as you shuffle forward, computer in hand. “You had me take down to IT to get your files backed up, remember?” you smile as you deposit the device on the cherry-oak desk.

Pepper returns the smile and shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t understand how I functioned before you.” She slides the laptop across the desk and opens it. While she waits for the software to boot up, she starts her typical morning rapid-fire session. “Did I miss any calls before I came in?”

“No, it’s been pretty q-word this morning.” You vowed never to say “quiet” while in the office. It somehow always jinxed your days, resulting in everyone and their mother calling within twenty minutes.

“E-mails?”

“The chef you’ve been in contact with sent over his schedule for the next few months. It’s looking like the best time to meet is early next month if you want to get the feature done in time for the winter edition.” Pepper opens her mouth to fire another question, but you’re one step ahead of her. “I’ve already blocked out a date in your calendar and sent the invite to his team.”

A soft smile graces the woman’s face as she scribbles notes in her daybook. “And what does my schedule look like for today?”

You sort through the mental files that contain minute-to-minute information regarding your boss’s workday. “You’re pretty booked. You have that photoshop with James Barnes at noon, and after-”

“Shit,” Pepper mummers, cutting you off. Panic quickly settles into her features. “Why does Tony do this? Barnes is impossible to book for anything. I can’t miss this….”

“Uh, no, you can’t,” you practically screech as you fix your boss with a wild look. “This photoshoot has been on your schedule since before I even started. And the time you have set up with him next week doesn’t allow for a full interview, photoshoot, and get material for the short online feature.” You try not to let the panic come out in your voice, but this is precisely the kind of incident you were hired to prevent.

Pepper gently closes her laptop and sets her features in a serious look. “Listen, I think you’re doing a great job here, and you’ve grown so much within the few months you’ve been on the team.” You eye her suspiciously, wondering if this was your ‘you’re fired’ speech. If so, it was definitely coming out of left field. “Why don’t you take my place at the shoot today? If Tony hadn’t promised I’d be in attendance for this investor meeting today, I’d have you go to that instead. But,” the blonde sighs deeply before continuing, “Tony has no regard for anyone’s schedule, and this is an important meeting.”

Your stomach drops from the 44th floor you’re currently on down to ground level. You’d never been on a set before, let alone one with someone as big as James. Plus, you’d only been on a handful of mid-sized interviews. How did she expect you to do this by yourself?

“Pepper, I…”

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to try and tell me that you’re not ready and that you can’t possibly clear your schedule for the afternoon. But if I didn’t think you were capable of holding your own, you wouldn’t even be sitting here with ‘assistant editor’ in front of your name. You have the skillset; you just need to show that you can use it. I know you don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

You anxiously bite your lip, feelings of inadequacy and anxiousness filling your senses.

“I don’t even know this James guy…” you say, defeated.

“Well, the car doesn’t arrive for another,” she looks down at her phone, “forty-five minutes. You better get reading.”

“We really need to bring you into the twenty-first century,” Natasha, Bucky’s manager, says as the first notes of My Funny Valentine start dancing through today’s set.

Following the too-bright flash of the camera, Bucky blinks the starbursts out of his eyes and tries to set the redhead with as stern of a look as possible. “Don’t you dare diss Mr. Sinatra. He’s a classic. A legend!” He watches as a stylist runs up and begins fussing with his hair.

Natasha just rolls her eyes and goes back to scrolling through her phone. As much as she acts annoyed with him - and his insistence of having at least two dozen 40’s songs on every photoshoot playlist - he knew she wouldn’t trade him for the world. They had a long history pre-dating the entertainment industry, and she was damn good at her job. If it wasn’t for Nat, Bucky’s not sure his current agency would have even signed him.

As the stylist finishes up her poking and prodding, the photographer - who Bucky has already forgotten the name of - begins shouting out directions from behind the camera. Pose this way. Turn that way. Make it look like you want to be here. It takes everything in Bucky not to grimace - both at the consistent reconfiguring he has to do to his body and the loud rumble that echoes through his stomach. The shirtless pictures they were shooting today caused him - against his better judgment - to forgo breakfast and, with nothing but too-weak black coffee in his system, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a little agitated.

“Just a few more shots, and then we can break for lunch,” he hears the man behind the camera shout before dragging the camera back up to his face.

Bucky contorts himself into a position that shows off the abs he’s worked incredibly hard to achieve and maintain and masks his face in the perfect moody smolder these magazines love so much. Three more pops of the shutter, some grumbling and direction by the photographer, and one more position change, and he’s finally free.

As he’s looking at the pictures and throwing a robe over his bare torso and boxer-clad bottom, Bucky’s attention is pulled from the camera’s tiny screen to the back of the spacious room by Natasha’s stern, Russian-lilted voice. The accent only came out when she was agitated, so the sound alone is often used as a warning sign to those closest to her to stay away.

“How did you even get up here? Is there no security in place? I swear-”

Bucky turns to find his manager - all five-foot-three inches of her - standing defensively in front of whomever she’s cornered by the elevator.

“As I said, I’m here in place of Ms. Potts.” Bucky perks up at the second voice; is almost positive he recognizes the sweet melody despite having only encountered it once several months before. “Here, look, I have my badge.”

Sure enough, as Bucky scurries over to the duo, he sees a familiar face anxiously looking at his manager. He might be terrible with names, but Bucky Barnes rarely forgets a face.

“Natasha, why do you insist on harassing every person who sets foot within a five-foot radius of me while on the job?” Bucky jokes as he approaches the women.

He watches as your attention shifts from the annoyed redhead to him; a look of shock and maybe a hint of mortification flashes across your face.

“I wasn’t harassing. This is a closed set, and randos from the street can’t just walk on up,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “And it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s...you. But you know what I mean!”

He does. After all, protecting his privacy and work is one of Bucky’s most significant concerns. That doesn't mean he isn’t going to tease Natasha any chance he gets. He playfully scoffs and turns his attention to you. “I see you got the job. I told you everything was going to work out.”

Bucky can’t help but preen at the way you anxiously tuck a non-existent stray hair behind your ear and bite your lip. “You were right. Mr. Stark isn’t as intimidating as I thought. Although,” you playfully roll your eyes, “he is a menace. He promised Pepper’s attendance at a meeting, so now you’re stuck with an inexperienced interviewer rather than the queen of journalism.”

“Bah!” Bucky exclaims. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Plus, you’re not the one half-naked in the situation. If anyone embarrasses themselves, it’ll be me.”

Natasha chortles at the comment, mumbling something the sounds a lot like, “ever the charmer,” before walking away. At the same time, Bucky doesn’t miss the way your gaze slowly skims down his cotton-clade body before snapping back up to his face.

“Come on. We just broke for lunch, and Stark spares no expense when it comes to the spreads.”

It’s well past six-thirty in the evening when you finally make it back to your building. Despite the exhaustion flowing through your veins and the grumble in your stomach reminding you every five minutes that you haven’t eaten since lunchtime, there’s a festive air to your being, a proverbial pep to your step that could only be the result of a successful first interview experience.

Yeah, you were a nervous wreck before and during the interview, but you walked away feeling amazing about yourself - and with three pages worth of phenomenal, touching, and personal quotes from the one and only Bucky Barnes.

You try to ignore the butterflies that erupt low in your belly at the thought of the blue-eyed god of a man. Despite having no other experience interviewing someone with as large of a celebrity as he, you’ve concluded that Bucky is an angel of an interviewee. He was polite, answered all of your questions, and flirted just a little. Or, at least that’s what you would call it if you were anyone but a lowly editorial assistant who still purchased from bargain bins because that’s all you could afford. In all reality, Bucky was a very smooth talker with the confidence to back it up. It explained the incomprehensible hype surrounding the man you had no idea was such a big deal less than twelve hours prior.

The rumble of your stomach pulls you back to reality as you unlock your apartment door. You push the thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind, settle for finishing unpacking the day for when you’re unwinding for bed. Right now, all you want to focus on is fo-

“Uh, hello!” your roommate Wanda screeches as you push open the door. The redhead is standing, arms crossed, in your entry, a look of disdain on her face. “When were you going to tell me, your best friend and roommate, who pays half the rent and utilities, mind you, that Bucky Barnes followed you on Instagram. James Bucky Barnes, Y/N!”

You freeze at the mention of the man who has taken up every inch of your mind since you left the shoot earlier that day. You deposit your keys onto the small table next to the door and try to act as nonchalant as possible. “What are you talking about, Wanda?”

Your roommate starts wagging her phone in front of your face before pulling it back so she can read off her screen. “Well, I follow these gossip blogs - just for fun, of course. I like to stay up-to-date with all the celebrity goings-on.” You fix Wanda with an unamused look as you pass by on the way to the kitchen. “And I was scrolling through, catching up on today’s gossip, and all of a sudden, I see a screenshot of your Instagram account!”

You freeze mid-reach for a saucepan and turn to look at her. “What?”

“Yea, see,” Wanda holds her phone out so you can see the screen. Low and behold, there your account is; questionably composed landscape shots of the city and poorly-lit food pics in all their glory. “It started to circulate this afternoon after someone saw he followed you! Why did he follow you?”

You slowly resume your task of reheating last night’s spaghetti as you answer her. “I...I don’t know? I met him at work this afternoon. He probably just followed me because of Stark.” You shrug despite the thrill that runs through your body.

You halfheartedly listen as Wanda blabs on about the crush she’s apparently had for years despite never having once mentioned it to you, too focused on running through the day’s events to care much about how she’s seen every single one of his films at least a dozen times.

Maybe he had been flirting with you? His manager did mention he flirts with anything with a heartbeat, so it was most likely just part of his personality. Or at least the role he played in public. You weren’t naive enough to think that who Bucky presented himself as to the media, fans, and others not in his inner circle was the real Bucky. After all, he was likely just trying to win you over so you’d write something good about him.

Still, you can’t help the giddy smile that creeps across your face as, when you finally lie down for the night, you open the Instagram app to find Bucky’s name and verified status among the several notifications awaiting you.

@redbarn1995 @juenenfeu

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