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januaryembrs · 23 days

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WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]

Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to

Length. 15.2k

warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!

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Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!

'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,

I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'

The one with the wedding

JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit.

“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.

“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?”

But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner.

“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them.

It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything.

And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.

Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions.

Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air.

“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,”

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer.

It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue.

He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket.

It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.

He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.

Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her.

He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop.

His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him.

But it was her. There was no doubt about it.

He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all.

“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”

Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise.

He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.

This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed.

Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe.

“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash.

But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face.

He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with.

“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?”

He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too.

“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form.

“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,”

The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head.

“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all.

“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces.

Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were.

He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her.

“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone.

“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side.

“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”

She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine.

Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm.

It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer.

She was asleep before she could protest to it.

–

The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in.

Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.

She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.

“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’

What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow.

She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”

He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation.

“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?”

He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her.

“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,”

“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”

Shit.

“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured.

“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”

She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?”

He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said.

“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,”

She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”

Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.

Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him.

“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?”

She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.

Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted.

“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that.

He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”

“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”

“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.

“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,”

She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away.

“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”

“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman.

“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!”

JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches.

Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that.

He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers.

He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups.

Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to.

–

Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm.

Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body.

But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style.

“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up.

She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore.

It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted.

He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good.

He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers.

He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him.

She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now.

“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”

Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.

“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore.

“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?”

Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened.

“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed.

They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down.

Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”

He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll.

Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well.

Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder.

“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres.

Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most.

–

JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other.

Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ.

Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle.

The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress.

“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!”

She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly.

“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.

“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,”

Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”

Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys.

“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,”

She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell.

“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat.

“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered.

“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”

His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused.

“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous.

“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!”

“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”

Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did.

He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there.

He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek.

He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it.

Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it.

The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.

Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat.

But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well.

JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway.

Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern.

Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were.

“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”

Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”

Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again.

Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch.

“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.

But she was okay. Broken bones and all.

She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright.

“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing.

Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”

He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.”

“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”

“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”

She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.

“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”

She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie.

“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”

She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,”

“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”

“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,”

And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour.

–

“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek.

The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor.

“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”

“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”

She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”

He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”

“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”

He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to.

She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”

Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own.

“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood.

“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder.

He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.

“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her.

She looked like a dream.

“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”

“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”

Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit.

Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily.

She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch.

It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes.

She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him.

He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near.

She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better.

Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness.

And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway.

They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.

Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did.

Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her.

They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right.

And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night.

Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back.

2. The one with Maeve

Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months.

At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing.

Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else.

Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her.

He was talking to Maeve.

The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting.

He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things.

That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve.

Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab.

She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy.

Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was.

Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company.

But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest.

“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?”

“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”

“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not.

She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before.

“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”

“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”

“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”

“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way.

“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down.

“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses.

She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”

“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog.

Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,”

He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,”

And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk.

He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not.

–

Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her.

His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now.

“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear.

She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,”

“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another.

“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,”

The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it.

Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy.

At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder.

She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him,

“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully.

He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.

“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.”

She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped.

“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.

She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed.

“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught.

“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,”

Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up.

Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble.

How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream.

He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her.

Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes.

–

“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.

Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol.

It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets.

It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly.

“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.

“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face.

“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case.

“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered.

“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror.

“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap.

“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her.

Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back.

Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.

–

The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal.

Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?”

“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone.

Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act.

He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway.

He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it.

Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block.

“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”

“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”

Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.

Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around.

His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed.

Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either.

“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”

“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him.

“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”

“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling.

“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”

“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features.

“Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?”

Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate.

“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.

“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject.

“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed.

“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything.

“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth.

Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot.

“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground.

“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.

“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead.

“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague.

“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him.

Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt.

Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him.

She couldn’t choke it down anymore.

Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.

Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it.

“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?”

And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.

Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them.

That wasn’t what just friends did.

And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again.

3. The one with their first date

Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.

Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain.

Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too.

She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.

“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch.

He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.

Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes.

The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them.

“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.

It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve.

She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of.

But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really.

“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,”

JJ knew not to ask any more than that.

–

Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it.

She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages.

“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done.

“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them.

“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone.

“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?”

Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him.

What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London.

She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away.

She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning.

Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.

“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so.

“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day.

Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it.

Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat.

But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside.

Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,”

“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?”

Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,”

Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.”

And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his.

She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store.

“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work.

Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?”

She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her.

She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better.

“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.

He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map.

Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.

–

He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him.

He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant.

Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever.

He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself.

He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back.

He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys.

And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined.

That’s exactly what he would say.

Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan.

He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out.

Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door.

“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably fallen asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-

She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion.

Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”

“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder.

He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch.

Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true.

“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”

He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider.

“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch.

Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true.

“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,”

Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,”

She nodded back, and they went silent.

They’d found themselves back at that stalemate.

TAGLIST:

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#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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zoofzoofxx · 9 days

Text

„OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(pt.1?????)

Pairing - Joost Klein x Fem!reader

Summary - As you and your little sister walk home, you notice a commotion near a car where a group of people is shouting excitedly. Your sister catches the name of a famous singer and eagerly wants his autograph. However, Joost seems more intrigued by you and proposes a compromise.

Genre - Fluff

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"Thank you very much,” I heard my sister express while embracing me. We were presently walking home; the evening was approaching, and we still had quite a lengthy distance to my flat. Several months back, I turned 22 and purchased a lovely apartment and moved out from my parents. My sister recently turned 16, so I invited her to my flat for the weekend, to go shopping, and then enjoy a delightful dinner as a gift. We were discussing the time my sister prefers to depart tomorrow because the journey to my parents' home is rather lengthy. Suddenly, we heard a cluster of individuals shouting and congregating near a rather luxurious car.

"What is happening back there?" my sister asked, wanting to go and see, but I grabbed her arm. "Let’s just go," I said while pulling her.

“JOOST CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH?!” “JOOST KLEIN PLEASE SIGN THIS!” “SMILE JOOST I’M MAKING A BEREAL!!!”

"Wait, was that Joost Klein?!" In a matter of seconds, my sister was by the car, fangirling like the rest of the group.

"Lorelei, let's just head back, I'm exhausted," I expressed, pulling on her jumper. The surroundings began to darken, and I had forgotten to bring a coat or a hoodie, assuming we'd return home early, but the chill was intensifying by the minute. I started to rub my hands together to generate some warmth. Lorelei continued to call out for the Dutch man who was sitting in his car, disregarding my words. I let out a sigh and decided to wait for her to meet Joost before we could head home. As time passed, the crowd dwindled, with many leaving, yet a few lingered. Eventually, it was Lorelei's turn, and she seized my wrist, pulling me along for moral support.

"HI JOOST, I’M SUCH A BIG FAN!" my little sister exclaimed. Joost chuckled at her excitement until his friend nudged him and pointed directly at me.

“Ey zij is echt mooi! (Ey she’s really beautiful!)” His friend grinned at me. I felt puzzled, so I returned the smile. Joost gazed at me, and we locked eyes for a moment before he looked away.

“Inderdaad. (Indeed.)” Joost said while nodding to his friend and then turning back to me.

"Feeling chilly?" the blond guy inquired, swinging open his car door and walking towards me. As he towered over me, he took a cigarette from his pocket and ignited it. He took a drag, glanced away, removed the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled the smoke. Then, he locked eyes with me, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and waited for a reply. I was at a loss for words. In the background, I caught my sister's amused chuckle, and I noticed a few onlookers capturing this moment on film.

“I’m not cold.” I say looking away. Joost didn’t hesitate to grab my hand.

"False. Your nose is pink and your hands are chilly. And I saw you rubbing your hands and attempting to heat yourself up," the blond man remarked as his strong Dutch accent was evident. He chuckled, unzipping and removing his coat, then passing it to me.

"I-I can't accept that," I stammered, motioning for him to put his jacket back on, but he remained still. My sister gently nudged me, signaling to take the jacket. I glanced at her, seeing her thumbs up, and suddenly, it felt like I was back in high school chatting with my crush and getting support from my best friend. Joost nodded for me to accept his jacket. After a moment of hesitation, I finally took it. He blew the smoke in another direction, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and helped me zip up my jacket. The scent of his expensive cologne filled my lungs. He turned to my sister with a smile clapping his hands together.

“Sooo… You wanted a picture and an autograph?”He inquired of her, and she enthusiastically nodded. He strolled back to his vehicle while his friends chuckled. He retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen, passing them to my sister.

“Can you write your sister her phone number?” He said gazing at me, giving me a wink as I averted my gaze sensing that my face would blush a light shade of pink. My sibling didn't even pause. She penned down the phone digits and aimed to pass it over but halted him.

"I want a hug too," she utters, and he chuckles.

"Let’s compromise, will you write her name and surname for a hug?" He said pointing at me, as I could hear his friends laugh, and I buried my face in my hands due to embarrassment. I could also sense the excitement among Joost's supporters who were laughing heartily.

"Of course! Her name is Y/n!" She mentioned writing something down and passing the paper and pen to him without any delay to offer her a significant, extended embrace. I caught her whispering something, and he burst into loud laughter. I simply grinned, relishing the sight of my sister's joy. Joost murmured something in return, and Lorelei stepped back and approached me. She began to quietly murmur something in my ear.

“No way-.” I said backing away and furrowing my brows.

"Please for my birthday!" She pleads, casting me those adorable puppy eyes.

"No Lorelei, that's an excessive request," I utter firmly, feeling utterly exhausted.

"Please." Joost emerged alongside my sister, giving me pleading eyes. I turned my head and exhaled deeply.

"What will you receive in exchange?" I inquire, exhaling and turning towards my sister.

"A meet and greet for an hour after his concert," she says, pleading with me and giving me those puppy eyes. I sigh and walk over to Joost, who's already lowering himself to my height. I glance at my sister, who's holding her phone out, waiting for the perfect photo opportunity. I just shake my head no, and she pouts. Looking at Joost, I notice he's smiling, his cigarette is gone. As I get a closer look, I realize he's actually really handsome. He gives me one last look and winks. I give him a light peck on his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark. The people around us go wild, especially his friends in the car. I glance at my sister, who's snapping a picture. I furrow my brows and turn back to Joost. His expression is gentle, and he's blushing, as am I.

"You smell pleasant." He chuckled, and I playfully hit his shoulder.

"Lorelei, go get the autograph and the image, and let's head back." I express, glancing at Lorelei as if nothing has happened. My sibling nodded, and a short while later, she bid her final farewell. Joost walked towards me, coming closer with outstretched arms for an embrace. I embraced him, then stepped back and started unzipping the coat Joost had given me.

"What are you up to?" He inquires as I glance up at him.

"Returning your coat. I'm warm, and it belongs to you," I mention, but he took my hand halfway and zips it back up.

"Take it, please, I insist." He casts those pleading puppy eyes once more. I exhaled in surrender, feeling weary and not in the mood for a conversation with anyone at the moment.

“Jij bent echt schattig. (You are really cute)” he said and I tilted my head to the side in confusion and he grinned. Embracing me once more and walking back into his car.

“Ik hou van jou! (I love you!)” Lorelei mentions, and Joost chuckles while glancing at the paper my sister handed him earlier.

“Ik hou van Y/n. (I love Y/n.)” He speaks, and my sister shrieks and pinched my arm while I remain confused. I simply grasp my sister's shoulder, and we depart. Glancing back one last time, I notice Joost Klein still gazing at me with a smile. He winks, offers a small wave, and raises his phone, indicating that I should check mine. I acknowledge with a nod, thumbs up, and a wave as we turn the corner..

After a few minutes of silence I heard a phone notification coming from my phone.

“Send me a message once you arrive home safely with your little sister.”

I passed my phone to my little sister so she could check the message, and she burst into screams of excitement once more. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at my place. Then, I heard yet another notification, this time from Instagram.

“@joostklein ✓ started following you.”

As we stepped into my apartment, the initial thing Lorelei did was play the track "Buurman Uit Berlijn" by Joost Klein and MCR-T. I strolled into my room and overheard my sister say:

"Y/n, remember to reply to Joost!" I just sighed and took my phone, sending him a brief message saying: "we got back home alright, appreciate the autograph and photo with my sister."

In less than 10 seconds, Joost replied, saying: "I have a lipstick mark on my cheek, thanks for that and the hug. You smell really good. If I were you, I'd check the jackets right pocket. I left a little surprise." With my toothbrush in my mouth, I headed to the living room, picked up the neatly folded jacket, and looked through the pockets. It was a letter that said ‘Y/n’ I opened it and inside were 2 passes for the Eurovision Song Contest… I almost chocked on my toothbrush, quickly grabbed my phone, and messaged Joost: “When did you slip those in!?” I hit send quickly and immediately got a reply: “When we embraced. Give one pass to your sister. I'll cover the flight and hotel, unless you'd like to stay with me in the same hotel room ;)” I knitted my brows in confusion. I hastily texted him: “I'm truly grateful. Goodnight.” And received a swift response: “Slaapzacht schat. (Sleep tight darling.)” I just left him on read going into sleep thinking about the kiss with Joost.

A/n- HELP THIS WAS MY FIRST STORY EVER ON TUMBLR DON’T HATE PLS 😭 HAVE A NICE DAY YA’LL 😊☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

#JUSTICE FOR JOOST

#x fem!reader #x female reader #x you #x y/n #fluff #joostkleinxreader #justice for joost #stand with joost #joostice #joost #joost klein #compromise #cute #couple #free joost #joost klein x you

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huhniebowl · 10 months

Note

hi!!!! could you possibly do something where the reader and dom are on a podcast together?? i think that would be super fun☺️☺️

anon, this is probably the funniest request i've ever worked on oh my god.😭 i had so much fun writing this! thank you for sending it in!

this is heavily inspired by the drake podcast with bobbi. i also read a few of dom's interviews, so a good bit of the dialogue is based on some things he's actually said.

this is dialogue heavy just so you all know! hope you love it!

You move the mic stand that your crew set up, so it’s level with your face, and adjust yourself under the blankets of your guest star's bed.

“Okay, tell me when,” Dominic says. He’s holding the clapperboard, and watching your crew for his signal.

“Marking.” He says into the mic, then snaps the take. He grins, while one of the crew members come to take the clapperboard. “Ah, bet you didn’t think I knew about that huh?”

It’s episode seven of your podcast, and you somehow managed to get Dominic Fike as your guest. You’ve been a fan of his for years, and have followed him through his ups and downs of fame, fortune, and misfortune.

You’re a little shocked at how well you’re keeping your composure by being able to have your favorite artist featured on your show, but you're thankful for it.

“Hello everyone, welcome to episode seven of I’m Not in Your Bed, and today I’m here with.”

You look over at Dominic, and he leans into his mic.

“Dominic Fike. How are you guys today.”

“Are you talking to me or the viewers?”

“The viewers.”

“This isn’t live though, so you won’t get to know their responses.” You turn on your side so you're facing Dom, and move your mic in front of you.

“Well yeah, but, isn’t that like proper podcast etiquette or some shit.” He starts to trail off towards the end and he looks at the staff. You hear a few of them chuckle, and you almost do too, but you can’t break character.

“Who taught you that?”

“Well, I just sort of.” He pauses for a moment, “Fuck you.” There’s no bite to it, and the staff laughs out.

"You think Drake is watching this?" He asks, fixing the glasses on his face.

"Maybe, he was my episode four."

"Were you in his bed too?"

"Yeah, I was."

"Fuckin’ cheater dude." That earns him a few laughs behind the camera.

“How does it feel having a stranger in your bed?” You ask. Dominic tilts his head in thought.

“Well, it’s not too weird. I used to have random women in here all the time.”

He then grabs hold of the mic and stares dead into the camera. “Not anymore though. Completely abstinent. Not fucking. Stop having sex. I’m talking to you. The one watching me say this while probably planning on having sex later.” You stare at him and press your lips together, letting the silence after his proclamation linger in the air.

“And how’s that been going for you?”

“You know, it’s been well. I’ve stopped a lot of crazy shit recently. Stopped smoking, stopped drugs. Stopped drinking more than 4 cups of coffee a day.”

“How do you like your coffee.”

“Black. I hate that creamer shit.”

“You know it’s reported that some of the most known serial killers drank their coffee black and were Capricorns?” Dom’s eyebrows raise.

“Oh fuck, really?”

“No, I made it up. But you feel a little crazy now don’t you?” Dominic drops his head and starts laughing, the staff right along with him.

“What’s your sign?” He asks once he gathers himself.

“Cancer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You probably have a mommy kink or some shit huh?” You look at him in disbelief and suck your teeth when your staff betrays you with giggles.

“I do not–”

“Momm–.”

“Dominic.” You warn, glaring at him. He bursts out laughing, and you can’t help the scoff you let out.

“You know, they do say that Capricorns and Cancers are the mom and dad of the zodiac.” You try to reason.

“You’re the mom right?” He asks. You squint your eyes at him and dig around the space between you two. He’s simpering at you, trying to prove his mommy kink bit.

“I lied, I'm a Leo.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I know.” You pull out a little knitted beanie baby from the blankets. It wears the hat Dominic had on during Coachella. “A fan made this for you right?”

“Yes, she did! Isn’t it sick?”

“It is. How does it feel having some of the most creative fans there is out there?”

Dominic looks between you, and the plush, then reaches his hand out for it. “You know, it's almost surreal. This fame shit kinda came out of nowhere for me, so there was a huge adjustment period I went through when it came to people supporting me and giving me things they put so much time into.”

You nod, letting him continue.

“I think I’m still adjusting to it really, but nothing brings me more joy than like seeing this stuff you know? I love my fans, and I’d be nothing without them.”

“It seems they love you back just as much, if not more.” Dom grins and nods, “Yeah, I’d say so. They’re so fucking creative.”

“Have you read your fanfics?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Because I have one right here we can—” You stop mid-sentence and pull out your phone.

“Are you serious?” He looks at the camera as if he was Jim from The Office when you ignore him, and begin typing with urgency.

“This is the most excited I’ve seen you since this started.”

You ignore his comment and hand him your phone with a fic pulled up.

“Read this.”

“Yo, do you read these yourself? You found this way too fast.”

“I found this one last night. Now read.”

It’s a Tumblr story you saved for this very moment, and you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“Smut? What’s smut?” He looks at you for an answer, but you just gesture your hands toward the phone for him to keep reading.

It’s silent for a few, and you signal your cameraman to zoom in on Dominic’s face.

You watch as his face morphs into confusion, then surprise, then what you assume is mild interest, before he’s pulling the phone back and his eyes are blown wide.

“Holy fucking shit y’all write porn about me?” The crew erupts into laughter, and you tuck your lips in to avoid laughing too.

“Smut.” You say.

Dominic glances from you, back to the phone.

“Why am I kinda turned on by this.”

“Because I wrote it.”

Dominic whips his head towards you, and his mouth drops.

“Wait really?” You don’t respond, reaching down to the floor and pulling up a box of Reese’s Puffs cereal.

“Reese’s?” You ask, dropping a handful into your mouth and holding the box out to him.

“Where did you—” Dominic keeps the same shocked expression and turns back towards the camera. The cameraman starts to laugh again and zooms in on his face.

“When did you—” He stops, watching you chew with mild interest to his confusion. So he presses his lips together, clicks your phone off, and folds his hands together over his lap.

“Yeah, let me get some.” You wordlessly lean over and Dominic tilts his head back so you can shake some cereal from the box into his mouth.

“Good?” You ask while chewing.

“Yeah.” He nods. Silence ensues while you both continue to chew while staring at each other. Then at the same time, you turn to the camera with monotone expressions. It’s unplanned, and the crew let out chuckles once again.

“So how was touring?” You swallow, and reach down towards the floor again, pulling up two bowls with spoons in them. Dom’s learned not to question you anymore at this point, and just accepts a bowl.

“It was fucking fun dude. I wasn’t expecting everyone to know the words of my album for the first few dates since I toured a solid week after the release.”

“Resse’s, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or Lucky Charms?”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

You pull up that box, and pour some into his bowl, then yours. “It must have felt incredible to hear them yelling it back to you. Did it?”

“Oh man, I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get used to. A lot of my songs are me just fucking around and making stuff that people can dance to you know?” You nod, and bring up a jug of milk, filling up your bowl, then Dom’s.

“So when I’m performing, it kinda feels like me and my fans are just kicking shit up. I’m dancing, they're dancing, it feels good. It’s fun. Whatever’s bothering them can just be forgotten for a bit.” He takes a spoonful of cereal to his lips and hums around his spoon.

“I was at one of your shows, the LA one. And what I noticed was that your energy on stage is unbelievable.” You press your cereal down into the milk with your spoon, before continuing.

“Like, you look so youthful, and just in your element up there. You bring such an intense and loving energy to every show and I strangely found myself missing you when it was all over and I’d never even formally met you until now.”

It’s silent for a moment, Dominic soaking up your words while you begin eating.

“Was that your way of confessing? Are we like gonna kiss now?”

You roll your eyes and your crew giggles.

“No, but seriously, thank you. That means the world, especially when like I said before I’m still adjusting to this shit.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re navigating through all this perfectly. It’s why I became a fan in the first place. Your talent is unique to you and only you. And I mean it when I say talent like that only comes once in a lifetime.”

You point your spoon at him, “I’m sure I can speak for all of us when I say we’re beyond lucky to experience you and all your greatness in our lifetime.” You give him a big smile.

Dominic stares at you, and you can’t read his expression but you also don’t look for too long. Opting to look into your cereal bowl, because you could feel the love-sick look that was about to show on your face.

“You’re too good at this sentimental shit dude, what the fuck.” His voice sounds a bit choked up, so you try to lighten the mood.

“Don’t start crying on here or I’ll be forced to use it as my thumbnail for views.” The staff comes to your aid with laughter, and Dominic joins in.

“You wouldn’t do that.” He goes to wipe his face with his shirt but is met with silence and your face back to its deadpan. He looks between you and the staff, then the camera. He speaks a little unsure, his voice going up a pitch.

“Right?”

You fully break character and full-on laugh. Unable to keep up your act with him.

The podcast continues for a bit longer before you bring it to a close.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say before I take a nap in your bed?” The cameraman zooms in on Dominic.

“Um, thank you for having me. This was easily my favorite interview I’ve done. The cereal was great.” he laughs and holds up the bowl. “To my fans, I love you all so much, thank you for always showing out for me.”

“Please continue to love my album, and stay tuned for what’s to come.” Someone behind the camera whistles, and everyone begins clapping.

The camera zooms out and shows you staring at Dom with the expression you feared the most. You’re looking at him with a dopey smile, cheek resting against the palm of your hand.

One of the staff calls out your name, and you blink, jumping up and looking at the camera, then back at Dom who’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh my god, were you falling in love with me just now?”

“No, what.” You scoff, looking around like he’s crazy.

“Holy shit, you were totally falling in love with me!” He laughs while moving up and pointing at you excitedly. The staff once again, betray you and join Dom. You mutter curses and pull back the blankets, stumbling off the bed and speed-walking away. The camera follows you, as you go behind the staff and all the equipment.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Dominic’s still laughing, hopping up and following after you.

“Let me take you out to dinner, I’m sorry!” He calls, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and slinging himself over you, while you cover your face and groan.

The camera follows you both all the way out until you turned the corner. Laughs still loud and boisterous on the set.

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lovelyela · 4 months

Text

she's thunderstorms || theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis: you and theo smoke session, loosely based off 'shes thunderstorms' by arctic monkeys

ela’s note: i felt like writing a song fic and my best friend is like in love with theo and arctic monkeys so i decided to try n write something ! :D hopefully you guys enjoy this!

warnings: use of y/n, smoking, cursing (?), fluff, bad descriptions of smoking (i dont smoke so idk wtf im talking about), mentions of cheating, bad british slang attempt (im also not british), implied slytherin!reader BUT it never actually says it so like whatever, inappropriate teenage boy jokes, time jump, lazy ending :p

word count: 1.1k

・❥・

the rain made the pavement darker than it was, the lightning flickered and the thunder hushed the party going on inside the slytherin common room.

theodore was in the hallway, sitting on the windowsill while taking a smoke break.

mattheo was busy on the dancefloor, flirting with girls and getting drunk and whatnot, so theo was alone with his thoughts for the smoke.

he inhaled the grey smoke, letting it sit for a little before exhaling slowly. his eyes were glazed over, allowing himself to relax.

the booming sound hit again, dampening the laughter and chatter theodore could barely hear.

he closed his eyes, allowing the effects of the weed to settle in. the peace and quiet settled in until footsteps approached him.

"do you have another?" a voice rang though his ears, taking him out of his trance, it was you.

"what?" he asked, taken aback and caught off guard by you.

"do you have another blunt i can have?" you clarified.

"oh, yeah- yeah, of course." he replied, "here." he said, taking a rolled sheet filled with weed.

"thank you." you replied, taking the bud and putting it between your lips. theo took the lighter he had out of his pocket, holding it a few inches from you, signaling that he was ready whenever you were.

carefully, you put your face a little closer to the flame, just enough for the end of the blunt to ignite an addicting burnt orange color.

you slumped up against the wall, sliding onto the floor.

theo watched as you took another drag, letting the smoke take its effect on you this time.

"what are you doing alone?" theo asked, which he regretted immediately, as it sounded like he was a complete and utter creep. "i mean, why have you decided to take a break from the party?"

your eyes fluttered open before answering, "i found out the guy i've been talking to had a girlfriend the entire time." you answered honestly, not showing a single sign of emotion. "i've been feeling foolish about it so i figured i'd take some air."

the boy hummed, "dickhead." he muttered loud enough for you to hear.

"definitely." your eyes shut again, still allowing the weed to settle in.

"what's your name?" theo asked, genuinely curious. he had seen you around before, you two were in a few classes together as well, but the both of you had never spoken.

"it's y/n y/l/n." you replied, holding the rolled paper between your index and middle. you already knew who he was. whenever snape would pick on him in your potions class, he would use his name, so you caught on. "and you're theodore nott, right?"

"yeah- yup, you're correct. just theo works too, though," he stumbled, being caught of guard by your knowledge on him. why was his heart speeding up so fast?

"i didn't ask, what are you doing here alone?" you questioned, "i thought you had that whole big and mighty friend group."

"i do, i just..." he trailed off, "wanted to take a smoke break." he shrugged.

"i get that," you sighed. "the rain is bad, don't you think?" you switched the conversation to the ruthless storm outside.

"i guess, yeah," theo said, his blunt long forgotten.

"i like the rain," you shrugged.

"yeah? i guess it can be nice sometimes, it's stunning." theo replied, looking back at you while you stare out the window. he managed to get a good look at you this time, you wore black baggy jeans, an off-the-shoulder ghost band t-shirt, and black motorcycle boots. you left your hair down and it was a bit ruffled from dancing in the slytherin common room.

you let out a cloud of smoke, "do you have a staring problem?" you joked. you felt his eyes piercing through your skin.

"uh- sorry." he said, heart racing even faster when he realized he had been caught, "you just don't seem like other girls."

"ew," you coughed, nearly choking on foggy air when he said that. "never say that again," you stated.

"you like being like everyone else?" he questioned, curious on your reaction.

"i think everyone is a bit different from each other." you said, "plus what you said was cringe."

"huh." he breathed, "my apologies."

"you're good," you said, standing up, "i'll see you around."

theo stood up quickly too, not knowing wether he should reach out a hand or go in for a hug or walk with you. "yeah, for sure." he choked out, cursing himself for the new awkwardness he had never encountered before you.

you shot him a smile before walking back into the party.

・❥・

theo walked into the slytherin common room, his best friends already yelling and joking around. he took a seat on a couch next to draco, facing mattheo and lorenzo.

"what's up, lads?" he greeted the laughing boys.

"nott, where were you last night?" mattheo smirked, thinking the taller finally had some game.

"took a break outside." theo explained, making a smoking motion with his hand.

"well, you missed out." enzo added, "the party was crazy."

"y/l/n always knows how to put on a party." draco chuckled, remembering the events of last night.

"it was y/n's party?" theo wondered why he had never heard your name before the party.

"yes?" enzo nodded slowly, thinking it was common sense.

"she always throws a party before summer, before the heat gets too much, you really didn't know that?" mattheo said, tilting a head at him.

"speak of the devil." draco said as you walked in.

"did you guys do the potions homework?" you questioned as you got closer, slightly waving and smiling at theo to acknowledge him.

"blimey, it's the second time this week." draco rolled his eyes as he reached for his satchel, removing a piece of parchment covered in writing, "bring it back before tuesday."

"thanks, malfoy!" you drew out the y, smiling at the other boys as you walked out of the room, again.

once the doors thumped close, the boys began hollering at theo.

"we saw that, mate!" mattheo teased, "did you run off with y/l/n?" draco and enzo snickered as they saw his face turn red.

"no, she just joined me for a smoke last night, is all." theo said, shutting down the allegations that made his heart speed up and yearn for you.

"for sure." mattheo said before chatting about the party. something about enzo finally meeting someone he got along with and found attractive, and another thing about draco losing miserably at cup pong, and one more thing about him being able to dance with gorgeous girls.

theo wasn't really paying attention, though.

you were looping around his brain the entire time the boys talked.

you were thunderstorms.

・❥・

part two maybe? lmk!!

reblogs, likes, and replies are ALWAYS appreciated <3

dni if you support pro-life, racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, sexism or anything along those lines!

#theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theodore nott imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x fem!reader

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titan-senpai · 4 months

Text

Let me go Valentino..

A Sinner that signed a contract with Valentino to work for him just like Angel.

[Inspired by the song: Valentino, Olly Alexander]

More of my Hazbin/helluva content ? [xxx]

Warning: Cursing, Smoking, toxic relationship, Abuse, NSFW, smut, spitting, chocking [GN Reader]

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

Sitting on the soft bed with camera's flashing around me as I was barely naked. crying on the inside as I knew I didn't have a choice. " Places everyone." Valentino said, clapping his hands. As he sat down taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Let's take everything from the top." he exhaled as i stood up entering the scene as the cameras flashed red recording everything i did. Acting a scene. The Shark guy sitting on the bed as I got to my knees and sat between his legs. as he put a collar on me. looking at him forcing a lustful look. " You've been bad haven't you." He pulled the collar making me flinch as he stood up and crawled behind him.

Patting the soft bed as I sat obediently " You're a good boy/girl/Puppy Aren't you." he smiled grimly. as i looked up " Yes.. I am at your command." I looked at him like an obedient dog, he gave me a tooth grin as 3 other guys walked in with Bondage, a mouth gag, leather whips. "Who do you listen to.." he smiled with his friends. " You Sir." I looked at them as one put one mouth gag on me as the other pushed me on the bed trying me down.

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

Arching my back on the bed as the last guy finished inside me." That's a wrap." Valentino said as he stood up. The guy pulled out the white liquid dripping out on me as i layed there bare naked. As everyone left the studio my body layed there in the freezing cold. "My Doll.. " He said, exhaling smoke. as I sat up wearing a white robe. "Come.." He curled his fingers, signaling me to follow him to my changing room.

Entering the room as he shut it loudly. his slim body walking behind me as his hands run on my body. " Sit" he said as I sat on the cold concrete floor " Open" He put his fingers between my lips as I opened like he asked as he spat in my mouth on my tongue. as he sat down pulling me with a pink smoke chain around my neck as I tugged at it in pain. " Don't tug at it." he said as i crawled to him between his legs as he opened his fly revealing his purple cock dripping in pre-cum as i swallowed as i never took him in my mouth.

I opened my mouth as he grabbed a fistfull of hair pushing me down to his base. letting out a loud moan as he pulled me back just barely on his cock, quickly pulling me and pushing me down his cock a couple times. as he sped up choking me every time I went down to his base. Finally he let go and pulled me up for air. Now his cock covered in my spit as I caught my breath he stood up choking me against the wall smashing his lips on mine as he took off my robe with his other hands and the other his shirt.

feeling the cold air on my body as he slowly inserted his cock tip in me without a warning he slammed his whole cock to the base in me as the lack of oxygen and his cock in me led me to my orgasm cuming on the spot as he sped up. my eyes rolling back as he let go of my throat kissing me still holding me up against the wall as my hands reach for his back my nails scratching his back as he spun me around pushing my face into the wall as he tugged on my hair as his moves became sloppy, my breath shaky as he pulled me my back on his chest as he grabbed my neck painting my insides white as he buried his head into my neck.

Finally letting go, dropping me on the cold concrete floor now white liquid dripping out. i layed there shaking as he left the room shutting the door. slowly getting up looking at myself in the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. My makeup ruined, Bruises and hickeys on my body. and the worst of all. His hand prints on me.grabbing a robe and tying it around my body. Sitting on the bed i should be used to this but i wasn't, softly sobbing on bed hands on my face as tears fell on my thighs.

When will i be free... let me go Valentino...

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

#hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel smut #valentino smut #hazbin hotel valentino smut #valentino lemon

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salfishersface · 4 months

Text

Fun With Friends || Larry Johnson || Sal Fisher

Synopsis - A game of truth or dare turns into something more with your best friends Sal Fisher and Larry Johnson. {NOT a Sal x Larry fic!}

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 5k.

{Caffeinate Me}

You were sitting in Larry’s bedroom in the basement flat of Addison Apartments with both Larry and Sal. The three of you were smoking, drinking and generally just having a good time. It was four in the morning and there was no sign of anybody going to sleep when Larry piped up, “let’s play truth or dare.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. It was such a childish game and yet, you couldn’t help but say yes to him. Sal looked to Larry in confusion and asked, “how do you play?”

“You’ve never played truth or dare?” Larry asked, watching as Sal shook his head while he tightened the loosening prosthetic to his face. You sighed to yourself at this movement. You wish Sal felt more comfortable around you to remove his prosthetic after all, you’d been friends for years. However you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by bringing up the subject. Larry went on to explain the game to Sal, “it’s simple, really. We each ask each other, ‘truth or dare’ and whichever one they pick, we give them! Y/N, let’s go first, show him how it’s done.”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Larry, truth or dare.”

Larry thought for a moment, stroking the small hairs on his chin. “Erm, go on then. Give me a dare.”

Now it was your turn to think. You thought hard, looking around the room for potential dares when your eyes settled on the whisky bottle in front of you. You leaned over to Sal and whispered in his ear so Larry couldn’t hear. When Sal nodded, you pulled away and looked at Larry with a grin. “We dare you to drink that whisky, without stopping, for ten seconds.”

“That’s it?” Larry chuckled, grabbing the half-empty bottle of whisky from the floor.

“I don’t think you can do it,” you said playfully, folding your arms.

Larry opened the bottle of whisky and gave it a sniff before responding. “Well prepare to eat your words.” Larry smiled before he began to chug the bottle of whisky and you and Sal counted down from ten. This was more so to try and put Larry off, but that man was determined to never break a dare. And just like that, his ten seconds were up. When he pulled away from the whisky bottle, Larry made a face of utter disgust but with equal amounts of playfulness. “Tastes better with lemonade that’s for sure,” he chuckled as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

You were half impressed with your friend and nodded slowly. “Well, I didn’t think you’d be able to do it.”

“So… What happens if you fail a dare?” Sal asks, cocking his head to the side.

“You shook your head and laughed. “Nothing Sal-”

“You’ll just be known as a chicken forever and we’ll lose all respect for you,” Larry interrupted jokingly. You pushed Larry in the side, causing him to fall off the bed and onto the ground with a drunken giggle.

“I think I’ll take a truth then,” Sal said, smiling underneath his prosthetic.

Larry stood up and sat back onto the bed next to you while flashing his friend a toothy grin. “Alright Mr Straight A’s. Did you ever cheat on a test when we were at school?”

You could see Sal’s eyes widen through the holes of his prosthetic. He wanted to lie and say no, but what fun would the game be if he lied when he was supposed to tell the truth. So, he nodded. “Once, yeah. It was on a physics test.”

“Why did you do that? You were great at school!” Larry laughed, pouring himself another glass of whisky and lemonade for the three of you.

“That can be another truth for you and I’ll tell you,” Sal smirked, winking at his best friend before turning to you. “Okay, Y/N. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, not even hesitating.

The two men looked at each other and Larry nodded, signalling that he had a truth for you. “Do you have a favourite best friend?” He asked, pointing between himself and Sal.

You chuckled and shook your head. “No. I love you both equally.”

“Come on Y/N, that’s no fun!” Larry pouted, watching as you took a sip of your drink.

“Next time, ask me a better question then,” you remarked. “Okay Larry, it’s you again. Truth or dare?”

“I pick dare,” Larry said immediately.

“Erm,” Sal thought before raising up a finger, signalling he had a dare for Larry. “Try to lick your elbow!”

“Sally, that’s a shit dare,” you said, smiling widely at him.

“It’s all I could think of,” Sal said with a shrug, smiling back at you awkwardly.

But once again, Larry wasn’t one to break a dare and so, he attempted to lick his elbow. He failed miserably. You and Sal burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha, so funny. Larry can’t lick his elbow!” Larry said sarcastically, returning his arm to his side.

“No, no, it’s not that. It was just the look of pure determination on your face!” You squealed, leaning towards Sal and pulling the same facial expression that Larry had pulled. Sal’s laughter echoed through the room whilst Larry pouted at the pair of you.

“Alright alright,” Larry said in an attempt to get you to stop mocking him. “Sal it’s your turn, truth or dare?”

“Truth, again.”

“Are you crushing on anyone right now?” Larry asked, watching as Sal lifted up his prosthetic slightly so he could take a large gulp of his drink.

When he had finished drinking, he placed the glass on the bedside table and nodded shyly. “Big time.”

“Oh my God!” Larry exclaimed. “Who is it? Why haven’t you told me?!”

Sal found himself shrugging, “I didn’t think it was important to be honest with you.”

Larry looked confused. This was major news and he wanted to hear more about it but you interrupted, a frown on your face. “If Sal doesn’t want to tell you who his crush is, then leave him alone.”

Larry stuck his tongue out at you before asking, “do you know?”

“Not a clue,” you said truthfully, shaking your head.

“Hmm, fine. But one day Sally Face, your secret will become common knowledge to me,” Larry said, his voice joking threat. “Your turn Y/N.”

“I think I’ll go for dare this time,” you grinned, nodding your head feeling confident. The last two dares had been easy ones, ones you would kill for, so you thought your two best friends would go easy on you. But no, Larry had to be Larry.

“I dare you to take off your shirt,” Larry said with a sly grin.

You looked between your friends, shock laced your face. “My shirt?” You asked, tugging at the bottom of your shirt anxiously. Larry nodded, a mischievous grin on his face while Sal gulped down a lump in his throat. There was no way you were actually going to do the dare, right? You sighed and began to slowly remove your shirt, exposing your bra to your two male friends. Both of their eyes widened and Sal was thankful for the prosthetic covering his face because he was undoubtedly bright red.

“Huh, I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Larry said, biting his lip as his eyes raked across your chest.

“Didn’t want to be known as a chicken,” you replied, trying to act calmly as you took a sip of your drink. You sat awkwardly looking down at your chest before glancing at your friends. “What? Neither of you have seen a bra before?” You joked, but they both shook their heads. You were slightly taken back by your friends answers, but just nodded your head and covered your chest with your arms before returning to the game. “Alright Larry, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

You didn’t confer with Sal this time. After his little confession of never seeing a bra before, you had the perfect question. “Have you ever had sex with somebody?”

That wasn’t the sort of truth question Larry was expecting you to ask and he was slightly taken back by it that he ended up choking on his drink. “W-What?” He stuttered, wanting to make sure he had heard you right before confessing that he had indeed, never had sex before.

“You heard me, have you ever had sex?” You repeated your question again, this time more slowly.

Sal looked down at his feet awkwardly, tearing his eyes away from your half-exposed body as Larry shook his head and answered. “No. I’ve not. I mean, I’ve kissed girls but never actually had, you know, sex.” You smirked somewhat triumphantly. It felt as if you had gotten revenge for your dare, but little did you know this just meant Larry was about to ramp up the game.

“Alright Sally Face,” Larry slurred, the alcohol getting to him now. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” he said stoically, although he already feared what his dare was going to be.

“I dare you to take off your prosthetic and show our lovely Y/N here your face,” Larry said.

Your eyes widened at Larry’s dare for Sal and you shook your head. “Sal, you don’t have to do that-” you started, holding your hand out to touch his shoulder gently in a reassuring manner. But Sal was already removing the straps on the back of his head. When his prosthetic fell off onto the floor, Sal didn’t look at either you or Larry. He kept his head down and his eyes on the ground before downing the rest of his drink. That’s when he looked at you, flashing you an awkward and yet somewhat apologetic smile. You leaned in closer to your friend, pressing a soft kiss to his scarred cheek. “You’re beautiful, Sally.”

“Y-You think so?” He asked through a slurred stutter. You pushed some strands of blue hair away from his face and nodded, a soft and gentle smile gracing your lips.

“That’s cute,” Larry snickered. “I dare you to kiss now.”

“But I was going to pick truth-”

“I picked for you,” Larry shrugged.

You sucked in a deep breath and looked at Sal, a silent way of asking him for permission. He nodded to you, indicating that he was okay with it although he was shaking slightly from anticipation. You were so beautiful to him, and even more so with his prosthetic off. He could see every inch of you and he was loving it, and to know that you weren’t scared or repulsed by him just made his heart sing. You shuffled closer to Sal and wrapped your arms around his neck before pressing your soft, wet lips against his chapped ones. Sal didn’t know what to do with his hands, but he settled on placing them on your bare waist gripping ever-so-slightly. Meanwhile, Larry watched the two of you share a sweet, yet clumsy kiss. You stayed like that for a few moments, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours before you pulled away. As you did, Sal smiled softly at you, licking his lips. He had been rendered speechless.

Larry spoke up once again, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Now, I dare you to kiss me.”

You turned your head to look at him, eyes wide. You looked at Sal before looking at Larry once more, nodding sternly. You moved from Sal, shuffling across the bed to Larry’s position. Before you even bent down to kiss him, Larry’s hands were already on your waist pulling you down on top of his body. The kiss with Larry was more forceful than the kiss with Sal, but it was equally as clumsy. Larry became a little more suggestive as his hands moved along your hips, stroking them before sliding up your back to unhook your bra. A gasp of surprise tumbled from your lips as your bra slipped down your arms and off of your chest, leaving you completely bare to your best friends.

“But what about the game?” You asked, pulling away from Larry’s lips to look between him and Sal.

“Fuck the game,” came Larry’s response as he kissed you again. His tongue poked into your mouth and swirled around, savouring the taste of whisky and lemonade on your breath. Both Larry and Sal felt themselves harden at the sight of your exposed chest and Larry couldn’t hold himself back. His hands moved from the top of your back to your chest, pawing desperately at your tits. Then, his lips moved to your neck and Larry began to suck and bite at the soft flesh separating him from your jugular vein. You turned your head to the side to give Larry better access to your neck, taking the opportunity to look at Sal. A soft whimper escaped you as your eyes met Sal’s and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself making any more noise. You could feel the wetness growing between your legs at both Larry’s movements and the way Sal was watching you intensely. As Larry continued to kiss up and down your neck, you used your forefinger to beckon Sal towards you. He hesitated but slowly made his way over to your side. You turned the top half of your body to face him, still sitting on top of Larry and grabbed Sal’s shoulders, pulling him towards your lips again. This time, the kiss was much fiercer. A whimper of surprise left Sal’s lips as he welcomed the kiss, your tongue trailed his bottom lip begging for entrance. Larry looked up from your neck to see you making-out with Sal and in response, bit down hard on your neck.

“Larry!” You shrieked softly between Sal’s lips. Sal’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, the mixture of pain and pleasure evident in your tone only seemed to turn him on even more. His cock twitched in his jeans, begging to be released. Your lips moved against Sal’s desperately wanting a reaction from your best friend. Larry continued to palm at your chest as he sucked on your neck, flicking your nipples between his fingertips.

You pushed Larry away and quickly manoeuvred yourself off of his body and grabbed the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down slowly to reveal his grey boxers. His cock strained against the tight fabric and you could see a wet patch starting to form around his tip as the result of the pre-cum. Larry’s breath was shallow as you finally took off his trousers, eyes gazing up and down your body. He felt slightly embarrassed that you were seeing him in his boxers, but he wasn’t complaining. He had thought about this moment countless times. Once Larry was completely naked and gasped at the coolness of the air against his cock, you turned to Sal and smiled sweetly at him. “Your turn.”

Sal gulped and nodded, allowing your fingertips to grace across his crotch as you unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans almost effortlessly. “Please Y/N,” Sal whispered, his voice barely audible.

As you began to slide his jeans down his muscular legs, you raised an eyebrow at him and asked, “what?”

“If we’re really doing this, I don’t want to be teased for my first time, please,” he moaned. Sal’s boxers were looser than Larry’s, but you could still see his distinctive hardened length twitching at your touch. You finally tugged off Sal’s jeans and boxers and threw them across the room to meet Larry’s sweats.

You looked between the pair of them and smiled sweetly. “Who wants my mouth first?”

The pair looked stunned and looked at each other, silently deciding. After a few seconds, Sal nodded and Larry spoke up. “Me.” You looked at Sal, making sure he was okay with being second, but he just shrugged. As long as he got you, he didn’t care. That was all the confirmation you needed to start moving back towards Larry. You teasingly lowered your mouth around him and looked up with your eyes to see Larry staring down at you. Once your lips touched the head of his cock, Larry couldn’t stop the moans. “Oh fuck,” he hissed, watching intensley as you lowered your head between his legs and wrapped your mouth around his length. Your mouth was so warm and wet around his hard dick that he wanted to cum immediately. Larry couldn’t help but grab your hair and keep your mouth still around him for a moment while he got used to the feeling of your mouth. Once he felt he was ready, he pushed your head further down, causing his cock to hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, but took his cock expertly. Sal was watching you the entire time, his hand hovering over his own cock desperate to relieve the itch he was feeling. Larry looked at Sal and grinned as he began to thrust in and out of your mouth. You closed your eyes as you began to suck, swirling your tongue around the tip and licking up the droplets of pre-cum oozing from the head. “Oh God.”

You opened your eyes and looked up to see Larry in a state of complete bliss. His eyes were now screwed shut and his mouth was hanging open for the silent moans to leave his throat. You looked at Sal, mouth still around Larry, and held out one of your hands. Sal looked confused and tilted his head to the side, but found himself moving closer to you. From what you could see, Larry and Sal were quite similar in size but Larry’s cock was much fatter whereas Sal’s was thinner. Your hand wrapped around Sal’s skinny length and you began to pump experimentally as you continued to suck on Larry as if he were nothing but a lollipop. Both of the men were moaning your name in perfect harmony, it almost made you laugh at how easily you had gotten them in this state.

After a few more moments, Larry gasped. His eyes shot up and he jerked his cock out of your mouth. You looked at him in confusion but he quickly answered your silent question. “I was going to cum.”

“I think I’m nearly there myself,” Sal whispered, biting his lip.

You removed your hand from Sal’s cock and looked between the pair of them, shaking your head. “Not yet. Neither of you.”

Sal couldn’t help but groan as your small hand moved away from him, a cry of desperation leaving his lips. “Why not?” Sal asked, bucking his hips up in the air.

“Want you cum inside of me. Both of you,” you said, eyes narrowing. Both Larry and Sal widened their eyes at your words and looked at each other.

“Y/N… Are you sure?” Larry asked, earning a nod of approval from you. Sal didn’t say anything, just watched on in surprise as you began to take off your pyjama pants and underwear. Was this really happening? This was a dream come true for both of the men in your presence that they almost had to pinch themselves to make sure they weren’t dreaming.

Once you were completely naked, you looked between your best friends. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you would be but maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins. You couldn’t be sure though. You lay down on the bed and spread your legs wide, waiting for one of them to make the first move. Of course it was Larry. He pressed his lips to your lower leg and trailed up your thigh, stopping right before your cunt. You were about to look down to see what he was doing, when you felt cool air against your folds. Larry had blown on you and it had sent a shiver of pleasure up your spine, causing you to open your legs further. Larry grinned devilishly at you before plunging his tongue against your folds. You gasped and cried out, grasping at the sheets below you. Larry was relentless against your cunt, lapping and sucking like a dog starved. You never would have thought that this was his first time eating pussy, but it was. Sal waited patiently, watching and licking his lips as the sight of your legs quivering over Larry’s shoulders.

“Does that feel good?” Larry asked you as he began to nibble on your clit. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence for the life of you, so you just nodded excitedly. Your hands made their way to his long, brown hair and tugged lightly. This made Larry groan and another wave of pleasure spread through your body at the sensation.

“I think she likes it,” Sal mused, more so to himself than to Larry, but Larry heard and nodded. His hands grasped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises but you didn’t care. You pushed Larry’s head further into your cunt and revelled in the feeling he was giving you.

“Oh Larry!” You cried out. “I’m going to cum if you keep on going like that.”

“It’s that easy to make you cum?” Larry teased, but you didn’t hear him. Instead, you came. Harder than you ever had before. Your hands on Larry’s hair tightened and you let out a yelp as you squirted over Larry’s face, and that man didn’t waste a drop. He slurped you up like a cold drink on a summer's day. When you came down from your high, Larry was laying on top of you, staring into your eyes. “Oh you look so hot when you cum Y/N. Doesn’t she Sally Face?”

Sal nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah she does.” Sal’s hand was now wrapped tightly around his cock as Larry slicked the tip of his head against your soaked folds, lubricating himself.

“I already know you’re going to feel so good,” Larry mumbled to you, pressing his lips against yours as he slammed into you. You let out a choked cry and threw your head back against the mattress, eyes meeting Sal’s.

“Larry, wait!” You whimpered, attempting to stop his hips from moving. You were being stretched and were fuller than you have ever been before that it hurt, but it hurt so good. Larry halted his movements when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked, panic lacing his voice.

You shook your head and smiled at him. “No I’m okay, just… Just give me a minute to adjust before you carry on.”

Larry nodded in response and Sal came over to your side to begin literally kissing your tears away. “You’re okay,” Sal cooed, his hand stroking your head gently. You wanted to reply, but you couldn’t and that’s when Larry started moving again.

Larry’s pace was brutal. Fast and snappy, just like him. He had been craving this moment since he learnt what sex was and now that it was finally happening, he was going to give it everything he had. Your hands flew up from the bedsheets to Larry’s back, scratching down his skin and definitely leaving marks. Moans tumbled past your lips as Larry continued his strokes, his eyes never leaving yours with each movement he made. It was romantic, in a weird way. Sal continued to pump at his cock as he watched Larry pound into you, eagerly awaiting his own turn. “Fuck you feel so fucking good,” Larry growled as he dipped his head against your neck and began to bite yet again.

“Larry, oh God Larry!” You cried out, almost screaming. It was a good job that Larry lived alone and in the basement, because you definitely would have woken people up with the noises you were making. The bed began to creak and you feared for a second that it would break from the sheer intensity of Larry’s thrusts, but it held. The headboard, however, began to slam against the wall which only spurred on your arousal. Sal tilted his head to the side as he watched Larry’s cock emerge from your cunt before disappearing again, a sheer coat of wetness ringed around the base of his cock from your arousal and it was obvious that you were close to cumming again. Larry was close also, but he wanted to hold on for you. He wanted to give you one more orgasm before he finished inside of you, so he pulled his cock from your pussy and slipped two fingers inside of you with ease. He began pumping ruthlessly, your breasts bouncing from the force.

“You’re making it so hard not to cum right here and now,” Larry grumbled. It was then that he felt you clench around his fingers and he knew that you were cumming. You tried to vocalise it, but you had definitely been fucked dumb and could only nod. “Okay. I’m going to cum now, okay?” Larry said to you in a soothing voice. You looked at him through glossy eyes and opened your mouth to beg for him but all that came out was a loud shout as Larry slammed back inside of you, continuing his ruthless pace. Your walls fluttered around Larry’s cock and within seconds he was spurting hot ropes of cum inside of you, moaning your name repeatedly as his head fell against your neck. His hips slowed down to a halt and after a few seconds, Larry pulled out of you. His hands caressed your face and hair as he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, passionate kiss. Then, he sat up and turned to Sal with a grin on his face. “Your turn.”

You lay on the bed completely breathless as Larry rolled off of you and Sal climbed on to you. “Y/N, you with me?” Sal asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “I’m with you. Please Sal.”

Sal smiled softly at you before slowly inserting himself inside of you, stretching you in a different way to Larry. His pace was slow and sensual, loving almost. As if pouring all of his emotion into making love to you. Sal’s lips were on yours in an instant and you immediately kissed him back. Your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him as close as possible all while Larry lay on the bed next to you and poured himself another whisky and lemonade. “God I love you. I love you so much,” Sal whispered against your lips. Your eyes widened at his confession, but you couldn’t say you were totally surprised. You let out a gasp as the tip of Sal’s cock stroked your cervix and you fell apart immediately.

“Sally,” you whimpered breathlessly, hands locking through his blue hair. Sal pulled away from your lips and rested his forehead against yours, eyes staring into your soul as he continued to thrust his hips against you. The pleasure felt too good that tears began pouring from your lower lash line.

“Shh you’re okay,” Sal cooed, pressing his lips against your forehead. You smiled at him in reply and pressed a hand to his scarred face.

“You’re so beautiful Sal,” you whispered, causing him to tear up.

“I’m glad you think so,” he let out a breathy laugh and bit his lip as he sped up his pace slightly.

“Touch my clit,” you whispered to him. Sal trailed a hand down the front of your body and rested it between your legs, fingertips fumbling across your clit clumsily. Although he didn’t know what he was doing exactly, it felt good. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” Sal reassured you. “I won’t ever stop.” At those words, you felt your third orgasm approaching. You prompted Sal to move his fingers faster across your bundle of nerves and he did, finally pushing you over the edge. You cried out his name with a sob as you gushed around him, wetting the bed sheet and a bit of his torso. Sal smiled lovingly down at you as he felt your pussy clench around his cock. “Can I cum? Can I cum Y/N, please?”

“Yes Sally, please cum,” you begged, continuously nodding your head. Sal sped up his pace again, the headboard snapping against the wall once more. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and with a loud growl, he came. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, swear you could feel his creamy load filling you up until you physically couldn’t take anymore.

Panting, Sal kissed your cheek and your lips before whispering to you. “I love you Y/N.”

You let out a sob at his words and pulled him close to you, not allowing his cock to slide out of you just yet. You could feel him softening inside you, felt his and Larry’s mixture trickle down your thigh. It was definitely a feeling that you could get used to. Eventually, Sal moved and lay down next to you on the bed. He stared at the ceiling before he looked at you. You were already asleep, snoring ever so softly. Sal watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath you took, completely enamoured by you.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Larry asked quietly, looking at Sal over your naked body.

“Hmm?” Sal asked, biting his bottom lip as he turned his head to face his best friend.

“The person you’re crushing on. It’s Y/N, isn’t it,” Larry questioned, although it was more of a statement than an actual question. He already knew the answer.

“Of course,” Sal mumbled, laying down and throwing an arm over you. He was careful not to wake you with his movements.

“I… Think I love her too,” Larry confessed, gulping the rest of his drink before laying his head down on the pillow and closing his eyes. Sal didn’t respond, just hummed in acknowledgement. There wasn’t much he could say after all. Neither of them knew where they stood and they wouldn’t until you woke up. Did this mean something? Or was it simply just fun with friends? They would ask you in the morning, but for now, they let you sleep peacefully between them.

656 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 6 months

Text

Can’t Bring Myself to Hate You - Part 11

Pairing: Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sister!Reader

A/N: I restarted this about four times—re-wrote the last few sentences for about half an hour. Also I was so excited to write Eris again but he wouldn’t fit in this chapter 😔

Warnings: sexual assault, Bas and his bloody knuckles, Azriel

Word Count: 5,830

-Part 10- -Part 12-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Azriel is going to die.

He’s going to die, and it will be at your hand.

Silence echoes through your mind, the world filled with dark blues and dismal greys—the colours of rainclouds and heavy fog over a midnight river. While the air is warm, ice prickles the layer beneath your skin, seemingly caught in your clothes, captured in your flesh. The perpetual cold of the mortal lands perhaps never fully having left the marrow of your bones.

At the table you sit still, trying to silence your mind to focus on the task at hand. You don’t want to be thinking about that right now. Not today.

Brow pulls together, lips twisting down as the bone of your thumb presses to the line between your eyes, pushing away the pressure.

Ease out a breath, shoulders slumping, muscles draining away as the door is closed on the world. Locked cozily within the dark quiet of the open kitchen.

The last time you’d sat here feels like months ago, presents stacked upon the table with a pretty cake to tuck into. Now there’s nothing to offer but a meagre cupcake, a lone candle put sadly into the spongy head you hadn’t even paid for—it had been a sample, someone giving out free little things so none of the food would go to waste.

It isn’t even decorated, aside from the thin waxy stick the House had offered up.

Lower lip curls, scowling with hot eyes at the small cake.

You stare for a long while, vision blurring every so often before it’s cleared away by a disciplinary blink. Loathing carved between your ribs, twisting and slicing, but never ending. A muscle flickers in your jaw, before finally shifting into motion, sitting straighter.

This night isn’t about you, and you’ll be damned if you make it so.

Breathing deeply, the wooden figurine is placed on the table, palm damp and cool without it’s warmth in your hand. The maiden looks on at the small cupcake, disappointed, pretty flowers drooping in elegant fingers. The skirts of are caught frozen in motion, the hem lifting from her ankles, the graceful sweep of hair being pulled gently toward the candle, as if the breeze is luring her in.

Eyes stare at the sight, and you have to sit back in your chair. Observing the scene, how small and meagre it is for something that deserves much more.

When the world blurs this time, you don’t blink it away, letting it fill and swell. Break over the edge of picked-thin lashes.

Slowly, you lean forward, picking up the light box of matches, taking one out, and striking it against the abrasive card. Fire flares before dimming, wisps of smoke curling from the glowing light, putting a pleasant scent into the room as you lower it to the candle, spreading the scant glow. With a single flick of your hand, the flame is put out, sending up a poor last signal with its diminishment, glowing weakly, before finally extinguishing.

Inky blues and grey-blacks dim the already sparse light, encroaching on the small patch of light like wolves circling a small, run-down hut. Waiting for the first sign of dilapidation before pouncing, sharp canines sinking into the soft, fleshy centre.

Your head hangs, forearms braced on to table either side the little show. Fingers curl, pressing into the now-soft skin, callouses from the days of wood-chopping and frostbite softened by a single dip into freezing cold water. Murky and depthless.

Bringing forth irrevocable change.

————

Azriel’s wings stretch out over his chair, the muscles rippling, shoulders working free of the tension before standing from his desk.

For what ever reason, the House has decided he should get his own food for tonight, evening long since passed with the days becoming shorter and shorter. Light waning, the dark sidling closer the deeper into autumn time flows. Like clockwork, shadows skitter off down the hallway, floating along floorboards and dipping beneath rugs, settling at the darkened threshold of her door. No light warms the gap, and habitually they listen out for the soft sighs of breathing, forgetting the enchantment that’s been placed on the room.

They hurry back, curling around his ear, delivering the information seamlessly as he makes his way silently down the dim halls. He can see perfectly fine in the night—there’d be no point to lighting a candle.

Strain remains tight in his shoulders, having finished reading through Cass’ letter as well as the dozens of other reports monitoring various changes and shifts in courts. Other things to deal with, to allocate time and resources to, seamlessly shifting his network of spies to target and attend to the more prominent catches in his web.

He doubts he’ll be able to catch even a wink tonight, a tight pulse in his chest warning him of sleep.

————

The breath exhales softly, staring at the lone flame, flickering dimly in the overbearing darkness, and you can’t help but think of your youngest sister. The wane light in the wintry forrest, battered by icy winds and freezing frosts.

Calming the beat of your heart, you press your palms together, leaning forward so the knuckle of your thumbs slot above the bridge of your nose. Head bowing toward the candle, eyes sliding shut, keeping the pressure at bay.

“Happy birthday, dad,” you whisper.

Already the edges of your mouth tremble, but you try to stay firm, sucking in a shaky breath. Blurred memories of the war begin seeping back in, the damp smell of blood and sickness, mixed with sweat and leather. Slowly lower your hands, palms pressing flat against the table as you look at the flickering light. The miniature wood carving bought in memory of his carpentry.

“I miss you,” you murmur, voice wobbling in the silence. “It’s been difficult since you’ve gone. Difficult for a while now.” Throat rolls, shifting in your seat, spine straightening. “Feyre’s doing well though. As much as I can tell, anyway. She’s had a baby too, did you know? I don’t know if you’re still able to watch us anymore, so sorry if you’re all caught up—I just thought might as well be on the safe side, and I don’t know what else to talk about besides them.”

Tongue darts out to wet your lips, breathing softly, calming the emotion in your chest. “He’s called Nyx, and he looks just like them.” The flame blurs, light dripping out in dots through the room, and you quickly wipe your eyes. “She’s been busy with him—I think she’s been taking him out on walks through Velaris every now and again when he wakes up early, though sometimes the others take on some tasks. I know Mor likes having him around, and even Amren has a soft spot for him already.” The corners of your mouth tug down, head lowering as you stare into the flame. “I think she’s doing well, after all this time. She can stand on her feet.”

Night-kissed memories float up through the fog, of crunching snow and steaming blood, dribbling out of a doe carcass.

“Elain’s good too,” you manage, attention flicking to the wooden maiden. “I think her and Lucien have begun getting along better, or at least not as awkward as they once were. I went with her to visit him a while back—to the old human lands, and—” You fumble, tripping over your words. “Do you know it all worked out?” You ask quietly. “I must’ve told you last year, but just in case I didn’t: we won. The war, I mean.” Vision blurs again, blinking away the dampness.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, dad,” you whisper, lip trembling. “I know it’s morbid, and maybe if I had been there, I would have wished I wasn’t, but Nesta was, and Feyre was there too, and Elain got to… They got to see you again.” The first tear splashes onto the wooden grain, and you hastily wipe it away, fearing it might stain somehow. “I wish I’d gotten to see you again before you went away,” you mumble, swallowing thickly. “I miss you a lot. And they’re all doing well, and getting better, and…”

Take in a deep breath, lungs stuttering, hauling in quivering pulls of air. Dip your head slightly.

“They’re doing well,” you whisper, nodding to yourself. Repeating it in your mind.

“I think you’d be happy with them.”

————

Shadows swirl at his wings, shifting as they dip ahead into the kitchen, skittering back with their message. She’s in there, sat at the table.

Azriel pauses in the hallway, debating the merits of bumping into her at such a late hour. He remembers how poorly his last late-night interaction went, and is frankly disinclined to revisit the memory on any level. The softness of Elain’s skin still registered in some chamber of his mind, laying dusty and untouched for some time, unable to bring himself to quite take it back out just yet.

His stomach grumbles quietly, and he sets a hand on his lower abdomen, rubbing absently as he thinks. Wonders why she’s decided to come out of her room tonight instead of keeping to her space—why tonight of all nights the House is throwing him under the wagon. But he’s a full-grown male, he can handle one short interaction, even if it’s with her. It’ll be a good chance to check on how she’s doing physically in person, too, having been putting off that task for a while, satisfied with the imaginary rendering his shadows bring him every now and then.

Azriel continues down the hall, noting the dim flicker of light from the doorway, warming the blue darkness to a sparse orange, a clear outline of colour in the deep shadow and he wonders what she’s doing. A few quiet steps bring him to the threshold, steadying himself for her longing eyes and the dipped shoulders.

He rounds the frame but halts on the threshold, shadows instinctively slinking across his skin, pressing silently back into the darkness of her peripherals.

She’s crumpled over, sobbing silently, shoulders trembling as deep breaths heave and shudder from her lungs. Her features protectively hidden by the sleeves of her cardigan, pressed tight to her features as quiet, wet cries gasp from her lips, trembling in the dim light of her single candle.

He watches from the edge of the room, observing silently, caught on the force of despair. How it’s shaking her frame, wracking it like a paper lantern in a storm, tossed and battered until it’s soaked and dissolving beneath the downpour. Flame reflects in the golden pool beneath her on the table, rippling with hot droplets as they drip heavily, splashing between the grains, growing steadily larger.

The tips of his fingers tingle, but he resists stepping forward—with everything that’s between the two of them he doubts it would help.

The familiar scent of gardenias floats over to him, stronger than usual, and hazel eyes trace the bare skin of her hands.

They’re horrifically dry, despite the intensity of the scent that always accompanies her nowadays, skin peeling around her nails, cracked and flakey like freshly baked pastry, rough patches of rawness peeking through, sore and worn from the interior of her gloves.

To a less observant pair of eyes, it may have appeared as a case of frostbite, or treatable dryness, but he recognises that formation—the slight warp of burning flesh.

Her palms press to gleaming cheeks, as if the wetness will absorb into her hands, curing the desiccated expanse, soaking up until they’re perfect again, without a flaw or crack to be found. The bones in his hands ache dully, pains blooming beneath his own warped flesh, swollen and melted in parts, scarred and misshapen. Deformed.

She starts mumbling under her breaths, sobs becoming heavier, lungs gasping as air is harshly sucked in, stumbling and stuttering in her shuddering chest. She’s apologising. Over and over, murmured sorries and desperate pleas. Repeating over and over how sorry she is as the water ripples beneath her, lips tugged down, brows knotted in sheer self-loathing. So concentrated it knocks him in his chest.

He should turn away—he can wait a few hours easily, allow her to vacate and recover at her own pace—but he’s kept at the edge, watching silently, wreathed in shadow saved for the flame-lit hazel of his eyes. Observing such a pure display of sorrow and wretchedness, a sense of foreign familiarity ghosting within his chest. Like finding a new path to an exact location—one he hadn’t known existed until then, completing a fraction of the unknown map.

Azriel takes in her curled up form, hunched over the candle, back curved as she sobs into damp wool, familiarising the sight. His expression tightens ever so slightly, brows pulling in, edges of his mouth twisting down, working into the beginnings of a frown.

With one last scan, he turns silently, retuning her the privacy she’s unaware has been disturbed.

————

You ease out a heavy sigh, but your shoulders remain tense.

Half a cupcake remains on the table, the house setting a glass dome over its top.

You peer down at the symbol numbly, eyes sore and swollen. Aching from intense use. That’s all the emotion you can manage for the night—a drought forming in the desiccated innards of your soul. Tears have been bled dry to a state of numbness, skin tingling absently. Breathing mindlessly. Wandering listlessly.

————

You land three light taps to the door, the warm lamp far above you illuminating the small inlet of the entrance, a wooden frame either side to hold the vines as they’ve reached and crawled over the years, the tiny pale flowers putting out a lovely fragrance—like lilies, or sweet peas. Long moments pass, then the door is quietly opening, one dark hand resting casually at the height of it, the other against its frame.

“Hey,” he greets, the edges of his mouth relaxing a little.

“Hi,” you reply, realising how scratchy your voice is, raw from that long hour. Hastily clear your throat, shifting in the entrance. “Would you— I mean, are you busy tonight?” You ask, wringing your fingers slightly, stopping when gold flicks down to mark the action.

Bas releases the door, opening it a little wider, standing straighter and clearing his throat. “Nope,” he says, “something on your mind?” Instantly the lone candle flickers in your head, the sponginess of the small cupcake, and you blink away the prickling pressure. “Yes,” you answer quietly. “I just— I don’t want to talk about it,” you settle on, returning your gaze to his. Anxiety beginning to melt away—you can be something other than fine around him. Lower lip wobbles with the thought, but you hasten to push the welling emotion away. Your eyes would hate you if you started crying again.

A deep breath eases into your lungs, then blown out heavily.

“I had a rough evening,” you say vaguely, “and I’m feeling pretty awful at the moment, so I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a bit.”

He watches silently from the warm inside of his home, the smell of rosemary and thyme cozily wrapping around you, almost enough to make you wish for a night in, but you’d rather not feel for a little bit. “You do that a lot, y’know?” He says at last, stepping back to allow you inside. You follow quietly, looking up at him with a furrowed brow, keeping to the wall. “Do what?” You ask, wondering if he’d like you to take your shoes off since it looks like you might be coming further in.

“Phrase questions weirdly,” he laughs faintly, the deep sound breathing a small spark back into your blood. “Like that one, ‘I was wondering if you’d like to out for a bit.’ I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a bit?” He repeats, raising the inflection at the end. “You know you can ask me stuff, yeah?”

You feel the faint tug of a smile on your lips, amusement crossing your features. “I know,” you reply, “maybe I just didn’t feel like saying it as a question.” Bas rolls his golden eyes, mouth copying yours, forming a slight smile, before shaking his head and turning. “Let me grab something. Anywhere you want to go?” He calls from over a broad shoulder, reaching for a warmer piece to put over his indoor clothes.

Shake your head, keeping to the edge of the room, wary of the clean floor. “I just want to be outside tonight,” you say quietly. “I don’t…the inside just…” You purse your lips in a grimace, and he nods. “I get you.”

Another well of emotion builds in your chest, but again you push it away.

Tongue licks out over your lips, shifting on your feet, making an effort to brighten your demeanour. “What’s going on with you at the moment? There was that thing you wanted to talk about last time…?” When you’d had a small crying session in his arms. Whenever the memory inserts itself into your head, you’re torn between embarrassment and jealousy. Embarrassment at breaking down over such a small thing after having kept it together for so long, jealousy over how easily that comes to other people. That small, sad part of yourself wanting more, but as usual, she’s gently pushed aside.

Bas sucks in a slow breath, guiding you to the door. “Yeah, about that…” The two of you step outside into the crisp night air, and you wrap your scarf closer, huddling beneath the warmth. Even after all this time, the warmth in the chillier months is something you can’t help but find your stress in.

“So…” you encourage when he goes quiet, linking his arm with yours. “What did you want to say?” But he shakes his head. “To be honest, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he answers with forced lightness. Brow dips—is it something to do with his dad?

“You okay?” You ask softly, stepping a little closer as you make the walk down his small front garden, the gate creaking open before he shuts it behind you. “Fine,” he replies, then relents. “A bit tense.”

You try to come to a stop, but he gives a gentle tug on your arm, telling you to continue on. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

With a heavy swallow, you direct your attention forward, hand pressing into the warm muscle of his arm, firmly linked together. “You’ll tell me when it’s been enough, right?” You ask quietly, forcing yourself not to peer at him through your peripherals. He has an uncanny sense for when people are watching him.

He’s quiet, continuing on with the walk, but you don’t make the mistake of trying to rush him. Sometimes he just takes a bit.

“Sure,” he says at last, and this time you do look at him, a slight glint of amusement in your eyes to soften the stern set of your mouth. “Sebastian,” you warn, and he cringes at your side. “Fine, yeah, I’ll say something,” he relents, waving his free hand, not quite meeting your eye. You manage a quiet laugh, before you both settle back into silence, quietly paying attention to the swish of the breeze, skirting around the subjects at hand.

The question’s on the tip of your tongue, eyes watching him from the side, but then he gives and almost undetectable squeeze to your arm. So light you’d think you might have imagined it. Had the two of you been human, you would have dismissed it. But fae bodies have an entire new level of awareness to them, impossibly sensitive on depthless levels. Utterly overwhelming at first. Still getting a handle on some of the more intense senses.

As it is, you take it as his answer. The promise he won’t voice.

So you continue on into the night, neither of you quite fully present in the moment to be doing something like this. But bad decisions happen, and mistakes are made. Without them, life would be boring, and dull. You’d never progress.

————

Skin buzzes pleasantly, a wide smile on your lips as you lean into Bas’ side, greedily taking in his warmth, mourning already forgotten and pushed to the side.

You stumble along, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as laughter rings between you, fuel for the rest of the night, replenishing the emptied wells of emotion like he’s pouring molten gold straight into your blood.

He’d been tense at first—nothing outright, or obvious in any sense of the word, but those small tells were there. Patterns one can only pick up on after spending pure, concentrated months with someone. And his behaviour had been erratic. The tension in his jaw when a female had bumped into him, spinning clumsily on her feet to apologise. The pause before he’d forgiven her, and continued on with his night. Then he’d refused to even take a sip of your drink, politely but firmly refusing your attempts to get him to loosen up.

You’d tried plying him with all sorts of methods, from joking and humour, to offering up some of your own little pieces, to asking directly what was going on inside his head that night. He’d diverted the first two, and snapped at you to mind your own business at the last one, which—to be fair—he was entitled to do. You know you wouldn’t appreciate one of your sisters trying to worm their way back into your life if you wanted your peace.

Eventually, you’d gotten up, telling him you’d pop outside for some fresh air—the night sky is always beautiful here—but he hadn’t wanted to come with you, simply sipping quietly on the non-alcoholic drink before him. Was it something to do with whatever he’d wanted to speak with you about?

While you’re out on the balcony, you explore the possibilities of what he might want to say. Though, you decide to stop once you notice the thoughts steadily becoming worse and worse, pausing the process before you cause yourself a public meltdown—you can theorise once you get back to the House.

But with thought of the House comes thoughts of that dangerous piece of parchment on your desk. The open challenge left for you, daring you to bring out some imagined claws. Outrageous and bold and brazen. You can’t even begin to imagine what those sorts of characteristics would imply to your personality. Do you even possess the capacity to become anything other than the flimsy spec you are? To make something out of the damage, to make it worth an amount, so it’s anything but weight, and trauma, and baggage.

Running gloved fingers over your face, you raise from the balcony, turning and heading back in. You don’t know why you didn’t try and turn back sooner when he obviously wasn’t in the right state to be coming out, certainly not surrounded by alcohol.

(I wanted to, so I did.)

(I disregarded him because I am more important.)

When you re-enter the fairly crowded room, you edge your way along the walls until you can spot him, a glass of water in his hand containing a slice of lemon and what looks like a leaf of mint. He’s speaking with a female, his expression softer than usual, and you wonder if you should perhaps complete another lap of the room if he’s managing to relax. But then another male sidles up, his arm wrapping around her waist, and she’s promptly whisked away onto the floor. Golden eyes follow the two, watching as they disappear into the night.

“Hey,” you greet, pretending to be a little more fatigued than you truthfully are. Bas inclines his head in reply, taking a deep drink of the liquid, draining the glass before returning it to the wooden surface of the bar. “Ready?” He asks, standing promptly. A smile softens your features as you nod—wondering how long he’s been wanting to leave but sticking it out. He nods again, the warm piece he’d grabbed before setting out into the night getting put over his free arm as his hand grazes the space between your shoulder blades.

You both cross over the threshold of the establishment, and the cold air smacks you right in the face, draining the warmth in an instant. Bas chuckles lowly, tossing you the outer layer, immune to the cold.

You peer at him hesitantly, but he just rolls his eyes. “You’re cold, and I’m offering you a solution,” he says pointedly. “So take it, yeah?” You give in, sliding your arms into the too-large sleeves, wrapping it around your bodice, relieved to keep out the raw bite of oncoming winter. “Thanks,” you murmur, allowing hesitant comfort to settle over your skin as his arm pulls you out in into the street.

The two of you walk mostly in silence, content to mull over your own issues in peace, the frenetic pulse of others’ lives colliding off one another.

A scream pierces out of nowhere, so shrill that you startle, Bas flinching at your side, heart pounding in your chest. Laughter echoes in response.

Both of you peer toward the sound, but all you find is a female getting to her wobbly feet, surrounded by mirth filled faces offering her various hands up, pulling her back to standing, arms linking close with one another.

You exhale heavily, but beside you Bas is tense, muscle coiled tight beneath the warm heat of his skin. Lightly, you pull on his arm, encouraging him to start moving again because it’s cold outside, and he’s given you his only good piece of protection against the piercing autumn chill. He moves along stiffly, tension tightening across his muscles, hands tucked tight in the deep pockets of his trousers.

Silently, you peer at him from the corner of your eye, noting the rigid posture, the downward tip of his brows, the tension in his jaw, as if biting down.

“Hey,” you say softly, laying your hand on his shoulder, bringing him out from whatever space he’d dropped into. Golden eyes flick to you, more distant than usual, and you realise just how lucky it was that male scooped up the female when he did—he’s clearly needing to be alone right now, in the peace and solitude of his own home.

You put a smile across your features, “scary, huh?”

A beat passes and he’s silent, just watching you.

Then muscle slopes, tension rushing from his body all at once, a heavy sigh deflating from his chest, breath billowing out into the biting cold air. He nods, a smile beginning to form on his lips.

A hand drops to your ass, squeezing with interest before smacking the plump flesh hard.

Your entire body goes rigid, legs shaking as you spin around, clutching tight to Bas’ arm to keep upright, shock disturbing your stomach as your eyes lock with pale green.

“Nice ass,” the male compliments lowly, a slight grin on his lips as he prowls forward, arms wrapping around your waist, large hands settling lightly over your rear, cupping with interest. Instantly you raise your arms to your body, itches breaking out across your skin, pulse kicking up to the beat of a war drum as disgust slithers beneath your flesh. “What—? Get off—”

“Get the hell off her.”

Bas turns on a dime, the tension breaking across his features as his lip pulls back from gleaming white teeth, golden eyes glittering with rage as he shoves one hand into the male’s chest, sending him stumbling back a few paces, storm clouds thundering in his expression.

Hands tremble at your front, managing a few hastened steps away, putting shaky stumbles between you and the male, breath shuddering in and out of your lungs as you stare with wide eyes. Bas takes a step forward, bringing his hands up out of his pockets to remove the rings adorning his deft fingers, golden bands sliding up over his knuckles. “looking for trouble?” He growls, eyes trained on the opposing male with deepening anger.

The male raises his open palms, a faint smile on his sober features, pale green eyes gleaming beneath the hot faelights. “Calm down man. I didn’t know she was yours,” he drawls smoothly, “no harm done.”

“No harm done?” Bas hisses, baring his teeth, an icy gleam in his normally perfectly golden gaze. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” he growls lowly, keeping you behind him.

The smile fades from the male’s face, shifting into a slight scowl. “Calm the fuck down,” he snaps irritably, “it was a fucking compliment.” Bas snarls, discipline slipping as he stalks forward, fist snatching up the collar of the male’s shirt, a faint tearing sound ripping through the crisp night air. Pale green eyes widen, before deepening with anger. “What the fuck is your problem? It was a fucking—”

“You fucking try and put your hands on her again,” he mutters softly, the threat reverberating deep in his chest, staring down the opposition. “Fucking try, and see what happens.”

The male’s brows dip, lip curling back as he bares his teeth, shoving the flats of his palms into Bas’ chest, roughly pushing him off. “You tore my shirt,” he mutters, staring down at the ripped fabric. Pale green clashes with raging gold, darkening to viridian. The male looks down his nose, folding his arms over his chest. “You better fucking pay for that, prick.”

“For what? The improvement?” Bas barks, hands tightening into fists at his sides, aching for a brawl, that familiar itch practically scrawled across his features. Obvious to no one but you. Silvery moonlight catches his knuckles, something sharp and glassy catching your eye.

The male’s features twist with anger, then they’re slamming into one another, light gleaming; darkness swirling.

They’re using magic.

Your pulse kicks up, hands trembling as you stare helplessly, unable to formulate any thoughts. Before you power crackles in the air, tension buzzing like static before lightening strikes, and you need to intervene. But it’s as though you’ve been vanished from the world, physical form obliterated so you’re simply a wisp of conscious being tossed brutally in stormy seas. Just your skin tingling disgustingly in the shape of large palm prints. Like he’s scorched your body, so everyone can see the patch where—

The male pins Bas to the floor, his large body thudding heavily against the stone of the cobbles, one hand splaying across his shoulder, fist pulled back tight as a bowstring, shooting down, landing blow after blow to the centre of his face, blood spraying across a vicious smile. Gold practically glows in the hot light, enjoying it, letting the rage and fury build until it’s ready to combust, to be released on the male atop him. He’s savouring it, and you can do nothing but watch as he slides back into that state of self-destruction. Right before your eyes.

A wet crunch sounds, cartilage shattering, blood coating sharp, gleaming teeth that are bared in a feral grin.

“The fuck are you smiling at?” The male laughs, pulling Bas up by the collar, arm wound back, preparing to strike hard now the bone has caved. “You fucking brain dead?” He shouts, ears wincing from the volume, green eyes lit with bloody glee, liquid dripping from his knuckles.

Nausea roils in your stomach, recognising the path Bas has settled on. The numb violence in his gaze having your throat closing up. Before you can help it, your feet are moving on their own, pushing through the shadows as you run over to the two, arms wrapping tight around the male’s elbow, locking it in place as you lean to counter-weight his strength. “Bas…” you manage, voice cracking, muscles turning weak with adrenaline, legs like custard as they tremble.

Pale green eyes snap to yours, his head whipping round, only to grow wide, features illuminated with a blinding glow. Skin burns, from your fingertips to your stomach to your heels—you’re burning. The male flinches beneath your hold, and you hardly have enough time to catch yourself before he’s jerked his arm out of your grip, the point of his elbow hitting the dip of your collar bones, just shy of your throat. Heart stumbles in your chest before a force shoves at your spine, pushing you back into the male as the knuckles of his hand smack across your cheek, sending you tumbling to the ground. Copper bursts on your tongue as you flip over, scrambling to get up but trembling so violently you might be sick.

The male raises his curled fist again, preparing to strike, but Bas has gotten his dose of violence, bloodlust glittering in blazing gold eyes as lips pull apart into a wet, bloody smile. You catch the gleam of ice coating his knuckles, cold moonlight glinting across frozen, jagged edges before he flips the male over, fist connecting with his jaw, a bloody tooth being spat out onto the cobbles. Then the furore begins, fist pulling back over and over as he keeps the male choked to the ground, sawtoothed ice smashing against skin and bone with every wet crunch.

You try to call out, but your lips are too numb to move, skin stinging with piercing pain. Dark red splatters on the cobbles, flecked through with tiny shards of ice as the crunching continues, getting wetter and softer with every hit. Like the heavy thump of raw meat upon a carving table.

Trembling, you move to get to your feet, fingertips itching with adrenaline, shaking with indecision. Bas is going to regret this, you know it. He’ll come out of that haze drowning in self-loathing for giving into the impulse after so long of numbing it. You can’t let him continue—stop him before he does serious damage to himself.

He’s been there for you, and you need to be there for him.

Breath eases into your lungs, skin itching deeper, the burning again raising as your fingertips tingle, trying to reach out for your power. The sting of the green light begins to manifest, aching in your stomach, head pounding, rising to the surface—

You’re hauled upright, turned around and directed away from the beat down, magic extinguished the second his scent wraps around you in a night-kissed breeze.

Azriel doesn’t say a thing, simply curves his wing round at your back, guiding you off into the night.

You don’t have the capacity for dread or fear at what he’ll say once you’re far enough away.

All you can think about is the quiet warmth of him at your side, steady and assured.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01

cbmthy taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @fall-myriad @historygeekqueen @erin-m-harmon

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #cbmthy #multi part fic

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loveisfriendship · 2 months

Text

A rare occasion

Never would one have thought that a simple smile would mean so much to you. It being such a rare occasion probably meant that the importance to you was that significant.

Watching your husband from afar you noticed that his mood around his family got more and more irritated. Family meeting.

But not one gathered by him. One of his brothers asked for it. You didn’t really listen for what. Probably something about a women.

You were lost in your thoughts, looking at your husband. Thinking about his smile. It’s been a while that you saw it. But he just came back from London.

You’ve known him all your life. Running through the forests, sleeping under the stars. As children his smile was constant.

Time changes that… more war changes that.

Now that smile was reserved for family, but his real smile. The one that you remember from your childhood. The one from ear to ear, when he teases you and tells bad jokes. That one was strictly for you.

Usually in the intimacy of your own room.

Apparently you had been in your thoughts to long. Under the table a careful and gentle tap of your husbands foot gets you back to the reality. His blue eyes look at you confused with a subtle worry behind them.

You smile at him and reach for his arm and give him a gentle squeeze. A sign for him that you are fine. But nonetheless he sets down his cigarette and puts his hand above yours. He gives you a signal with his head that you two should leave. You nod and stand up, realizing again what his brothers are talking about.

“Where are you two of to so quickly?” Arthur asks or more slurs, pausing his discussion with John. Both of them eying you suspiciously.

“Sorry Boys, but it’s time to head home.” You smile at them on the way to the door of the snug. Tommy also stood up and put on this jacket before taking his cigarette again.

“Oh so that’s why you need to head home.” John says and winks at you, grabbing the toothpick between his teeth. It quickly earns him a smack across the back of his head from your husband.

“See you later boys.” He mumbles before opening the door for you. You wave and smile to Polly before you leave, leaving the pub and heading towards the car.

Tommy opens the door for you and you give him a small kiss on the cheek before getting in. The drive home was silent but your hand rested on your husbands neck whereas his hand rested on your thigh. Your finger slowly rub circles on the back of his head.

At home you hand your jackets to Frances before Tommy grabs your hand again and pulls you with him up the stairs to your bedroom. He opens the door and pulls you in before telling the staff not to disturb and closing the door.

You take of your shoes before Tommy stands before you and pulls you close by your hips. His hands settling there loosely squeezing your hips.

“Are you okay?” He asks looking into your eyes intensely before closing the gap between you as you lean in giving him a kiss.

“I’m fine, just daydreaming.” You smile, winking at him, causing him to smirk smugly.

“Oh yeah, what about?” He asks intrigued before pulling out his cigarette case, offering you one. You gladly grab one and wait for him to light it for you.

“A certain someone’s smile.” You answer, blowing out the smoke. But as soon as you see his face you giggle. His confused look was adorable.

“Love, you lost me. What are you talking about?”

“Remember when we used to sleep under the stars?” You ask and he nods, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“I was just thinking about that, and how we talked through the night and fell asleep barely before the sun rose.” You smile fondly, pushing your cigarette into the ash tray, Tommy doing the same. You take his face into your hands and giggle.

“And I thought of all the bad jokes you used to tell. Which cracked me up nonetheless, causing me stomach aches.”

At that description you saw it. That smile you meant.

“And that, that right there was what I thought about.” You smile back, Tommy putting his hands above yours on him face before planting a kiss in the palm of your right hand. Moving his hands to your waist he pulls you closer with a quick and strong drag, but by now smirking down at you.

“Is that so?” He hums and you hum back.

“For my favorite smile of you, we need to do something else first.” He smiles

“Is that so?” You retort and giggle as he nods and grins.

“Well than, Mr. Shelby. Better get to it right?” You say as he immediately crushes his lips to yours, slowly walking you backwards towards the bed.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #lis writes

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justagirlwholikesadam · 3 months

Text

The American: Visiting the Dursley

Remus Lupin x American! Fem! Reader

Summary: Sirius slips out a name Harry has never heard of before, He wants to get to bottom of it and wants to know who is this so called, Yankee.

A/n: I had comments on people telling me to continue this story. Here's chapter 2. I want to start off saying, I haven't read the books. I have seen the movies and I'm doing a bit of searching here and there but I'm making stuff up as we go so my plot can work. With that being said, don't come for me. Not sure how many chapters I'll be doing, really depends on the feedback. please read the tags before reading. Enjoy -L

Warning: mention of rape, breaking and entering, ANGST, MAJOR ANGST, weapon, reader has it rough, threats being made, mention of killing bad people, drunk Sirius, sad childhood, mention of child abuse, reader has a temper and bad childhood, NSFW, smut is here duhh we are with Remus

WORD COUNT: 10.7k

Chapter 2: Visiting the Dursleys

Stepping out of the grimmauld place, you walked beside Harry, down the steps asking him what kind of food he likes. Harry felt dumb for getting excited over a simple question. When was the last time someone asked him a simple question, he can’t recall. A question that didn’t have to do anything with the war or with magic. He hears Remus and Sirius behind him, shutting the front door. He was excited, he was going to spend time with his aunt and uncles. He was going to spend time with his family.

“I have a place in mind.” You told him with a smile as you stood by him waiting for Remus and Sirius.

“It’s a bit far so I’ll do the apparition.” You told the three of them. Remus held your hand as you grabbed a hold of Harry’s hand. Sirius held Remus and Harry’s hand, forming a circle. Harry watched as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your magic was something he could feel, it vibrated off of you.

In a flash, Harry dropped your hand and turned to see you had apparated them in the middle of an alley.

“Come on, Harry.” You said signaling him to follow you.

Sirius smiled to himself as he saw Harry’s eyes grow wide when they walked out of the alley to the busy street. Harry took in the crowds of people and the different colored signs around the streets. He had never seen this street before, the air was different as well. It looked too busy to be the streets of London. He passed by a hot dog stand and noticed people using flip phones while waiting to cross the street. Harry looked ahead to see Remus and you holding hands walking, Harry grinned when he saw you speaking with Remus who looked over at you with a smile. He hasn’t seen his ex professor smile so much before. Remus' eyes were lit up and a wide toothy smile was on his face.

Crossing the streets, Harry feels Sirius nudge his shoulder and points at a mime standing by the corner doing tricks. Harry hears you call for him and he quickly walks up to you. Remus walks ahead of you and opens the door of a restaurant. Harry looks up the red neon sign on top of the glass door, Lucky’s Joint. The atmosphere was cool and reserved. There were a few people drinking while watching a game on the TV above the bar. Others were smoking in the corner while others were enjoying their drinks and food.

Harry looked ahead when someone called out your name. He saw you smile as you opened your arms for an elderly man who welcomed you. You hugged the old man, patting his back.

“Oh my! Remus!” The older man walked towards Remus giving him a hug. Remus patted him on the back as well.

“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Lincoln.” Remus said as he pulled away.

“It’s been far too long.” Lincoln told Remus and you, grabbing Remus’ hand and yours. Harry can see both of you meant something to Lincoln. The older man had white short hair and was shorter than Harry. He had a plump frame and wore dark dress pants with a blue button down shirt.

“I want you to meet my brother, Sirius.” You said looking over at Sirius who was curious about this old man. Sirius shook hands with Lincoln, who raised his white bushy eyebrows in surprise.

“And this is, my nephew, Harry.” You look over at him. Harry tried his best to blink the tears away. You called him, your nephew.

“Brother? Nephew?” Lincoln asked in a shock tone.

“Yes. They live out of the country. They came to visit.” Remus said, looking over at Sirius and Harry, giving them a wink to play along.

“Just here for a bit. Vacationing with my son.” Sirius told Lincoln, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“That’s fantastic. Enjoy your vacation. Now come. I’ll show you to your usual booth.” The booth was all the way in the back, giving them some privacy.

“He has no idea?” Sirius asked and Remus shook his head while a waitress came and dropped some menus on the table before walking away.

“He’s a kind hearted muggle. Yank and I have been coming here for years.” Remus said while removing his coat before sitting by the wall.

Harry sat down across from you next to Sirius. Harry froze when he saw you taking your coat off and saw a hostler attached to your hip. Sitting down, Remus passed a menu to you. Looking up to see Harry, he quickly glanced away from you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked and Harry shyly looked at you.

“You have a gun.” Harry whispered and you just smiled at his reaction. “I do. Every auror who does special missions in the states carries one.” You answered him.

“You shoot Death Eaters with it?” You nodded. Harry looked a bit nervous so you took your gun out and took the magazine of the gun out. Pulling a bullet out you showed it to Harry.

“This gun is just like any other gun. The difference is the bullets. The bullets contain a spell.” Harry's eyes widen as you hold it out in front of him.

“This gun contains immobulus in each bullet. We use the gun when we don’t have our wand. The gun is our last resort and yes, to answer your question. I have used it. It saved my life many times before.”

Harry grabs the bullet from your hand and looks at it. He stared at the bullet, the silver bullet shines and he sees the word of the spell engraved on the bullet. He holds it to Sirius who was equally curious about it as well.

“What if it kills them?” Harry asked. “If you shoot them in the head or the heart then yes. It will kill them. We were taught to shoot them in the non-vital parts of their body until the authorities come and get them.”

“But sometimes you have to shoot them down.” Your voice gets low and Harry notices the look on Remus' face.

“Why am I not surprised that our Yankee has a gun.” Sirius said, making you chuckle as he passed the bullet to Harry.

“I was just as surprised as you when they introduced me to it but it’s America, what do you expect? They love their guns.” You said as Harry gave you the bullet back.

“You knew about this?” Remus nods at Sirius as you put the gun away.

“Well, of course. I’m her husband. She taught me how to shoot the damn thing.” Sirius’ mouth dropped, not believing that shy and quiet Remus knows how to shoot a gun.

“Nearly fell back when I shot it but I got the hang of it.” Remus said, looking over at you.

“We have lots of catching up to do.” Sirius said, making you nod.

“That we do. Harry, let me just say you look like James but your eyes are your mothers.” Harry smiled at you.

“You really do.” Remus said as he grabbed your hand under the table while Sirius told Harry about James going on and on about Lily’s eyes when they were in school.

Ordering the food and the drinks, Harry’s face hurt from all the smiling and laughter he was doing. You were a breath of fresh air to him. He thinks it’s because you treated him like an adult. You didn’t sugar coat things when Harry asked about Voldemort and stories about his parents. Harry listened attentively to every word you said during dinner. He can see the admiration in Remus’ eyes when you spoke about your job in the states.

“You said only aurors who do special missions have a gun?” You nod at Harry’s question.

“What kind?” You wiped your fingers with a napkin before answering.

“Many missions that required protecting items or people. Sometimes very rich muggles, sometimes wizards or sometimes creatures. Others and I sometimes go out to look out for Death Eaters who have escaped the first war. That’s how we found out that he had been planning on using mind control on the muggles.”

“He’s been planning other things, Harry.” You said softly. “He thinks he will win this time around. He has already started making plans once he defeats us, not to take over London but to rule over everything.”

“He won’t win.” Remus’ voice was firm and strong.

“He won’t.” You agreed with your husband.

“That’s right.” Sirius commented before looking over at his godson. “We are here with you, Harry. You are not alone anymore. We are going to stop him once and for all.”

Harry bites the inside of his cheek to not cry. Harry had Ron and Hermione with him, but it wasn’t the same thing being with Remus, Sirius and you. Ron and Hermione were teens just like him. The three of them had no experience with dealing with war. You reach out your hand across the table to touch Harry’s hand when he doesn't respond right away to Sirius. Harry’s hand is so soft compared to yours and you hope he didn’t reject you. You were relieved when Harry grabbed a hold of it. His eyes looked down at your hand, to him your hands were like Sirius and Moody. You had light scars over your knuckles and he rubbed his thumb over the golden wedding band on your ring finger. You frown when Harry’s eyes begin to fill up with tears when you feel him rub a scar on your knuckles. Harry lets out a whimper when he remembers Cedric’ having a familiar scar like yours on his hand. He remembers because he was holding on to Cedric’s hand for dear life when bringing his dead body back home.

“I just don’t want any of you to end up like Cedric because of me.” Harry whispered and Sirius was quick to pull him next to him. Sirius wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

“No need to cry, my dear boy.” Sirius told him softly as Remus grabbed a few napkins from the table sliding them over to Sirius. Harry still held your hand as you moved his plate away giving you space.

“Harry.” Remus calls for him over the table. Remus’ heart breaks when Harry looks over at him with teary eyes. He swore that he saw Lily for a second but shook his head to continue.

“You do know, Cedric’s death was not on you.” Harry was quick to shake his head.

“Listen to me.” Remus said. “It was not your fault. No one knew he was going to be there. No one knew that he was coming back at that moment. Cedric knew the risk when entering the tournament as well. Peter was the one that killed him. Not you. Peter.”

“He’s right, my sweet boy.” You said to Harry. You gave him a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“What happened to Cedric was horrible. You shouldn’t have to experience that but Remus is right. This was not on you. I don’t want to lie to you, Harry. Yes, we may die, we may die tomorrow, in two days, in a year or we may die during the war but I can say this about the three of us.” You looked at Sirius and Remus then back at Harry.

“Risking our lives for the greater good and to protect you is worth losing our life. We will help you defeat him.” Harry sniffed as Sirius kissed the top of his head.

“You are not alone. We are here now.” Sirius whispered to Harry as you grabbed Remus with your other hand, the table stood quiet for a few moments.

“Do you remember when James and you showed me how to ride a broomstick?” You asked Sirius trying to lighten up the mood, Harry seemed to calm down when he heard your question. Sirius lets out a chuckle before Remus does the same.

“Oh Merlin! We tried to convince your aunt to join the quidditch team.” Sirius said, looking at Harry before grinning at you.

“What was the first thing you said?” Sirius asked, making you roll your eyes when you realize what you had just done.

“Do we have to wear those witches hats to start the broom?!” Remus answered in a high pitched voice making you gasp as Sirius and he started to laugh.

“I didn’t know, okay! I thought it activated the broom. Back home all the witches had those hats on when riding the broom.” You tried to speak over Remus and Sirius’ laughter. You shook your head and looked over at Harry who was smiling again.

“Your mother yelled at your father for laughing at her and made him wear a witches hat for the entire lesson.” Remus told Harry before looking at Sirius.

“Let’s just say I did not play Quidditch after that.” You said releasing your hand from Harry.

“You didn’t like it?” Harry asked as you pushed his plate in front of him.

“To be honest, flying around and throwing balls was not my cup of tea but watching Sirius and James fly was something out of this world. I’ll never forget the time I saw it, I kept thinking to myself that this was just a dream.”

Sirius continues to lighten up the mood by telling Harry about a quidditch story from the old days. Remus and you just watched happily as Sirius talked with Harry. Harry needed this, needed time together with his godfather. Time with his family, Remus and you both knew Sirius needed this time with Harry as well. Both of you can see how Sirius looks at Harry, it was the same way he looked at James all those years. James was there at a time when Sirius had nobody, no money and no home. James and Lily’s death had broken Sirius into pieces.

Remus squeezed your hand under the table before bringing it over his lap.

You look over at Harry who was finishing with his burger and fries as Sirius spoke. You stared at the scar peeking behind the strands of his dark hair. You felt an overwhelming sensation as you stared at the kid across from you. You can see glimpses of James trying his first greasy burger. You bit the inside of your cheek when Harry laughed at a joke Sirius had just made.

You saw flashes of Lily, laughing. Harry’s eyes sparkle the same way Lily's did. You look away when you feel Remus gives your hand another gentle squeeze. Looking at your husband, he gives you a look. No words had to be said, you knew what Remus was asking. He was asking if you were OK, you just nod.

Remus started to rub your arm under the table, it made you feel at ease. You missed Remus so much. You only got to see him after weeks of doing missions. You missed his warmth, his presence and his touch. It was hard at first when you left after being together for so long. You felt like you didn’t know how to live the first few weeks away from him. Remus and you were like a team from the very beginning, you met him. You had brought him up from the lowest point in his life and he did the same with you.

“Dream team.” He would say to you. He said those very words to you when you left. You left because you needed the money. After everything, Remus and you were all alone. Barely making it by. No one wanted to hire a werewolf and he had refused to let you work because he knew deep down that Fenrir Greyback was still alive. Remus was in tears when he begged you not to work in London.

“I can feel him for some reason when I’m a werewolf. I know he’s alive. Sometimes during a full moon, I hear his howl and if he is still alive that means you know who can still be alive. They can still be looking for you.”

“Okay. I won’t work here.” You told him before hugging him. Trying to console him because he was in tears. As much as Remus tried to forget about Greyback, there was no point because they were connected to each other. Grayback was the one who bit Remus making him into a werewolf. They will always be connected.

Dumbledore was kind enough to contact the Ministry of Magic in the states. They knew about you and oh how excited they were to have someone like you over there because who shall not be named had died causing a few Death Eaters escaping from their homes to reside in the states and of course they were causing havoc.

The money was fine and it helped with restoring the cottage, Remus and you lived there. It helped Remus get by, not as much but bearable. He always felt bad taking money from you, his hard-working wife, who was risking her life every day. He has done a few muggle jobs here and there but he will always get fired at the end for missing work too much after the full moon. Most of the money went towards his Wolfbane potion, such an expensive thing it is. It was something that you told him at first when giving him money. Remus didn’t want to take it, saying it wasn’t right and fair but you simply shook your head at him before telling him.

“The thought of you being alone, not in your right mind while I am across the world hurts me. I won’t always be there during a full moon to hold you and take care of you but knowing that you have taken your potion. I know you will be alright and it makes me happy.”

The days when you came back to the cottage was everything to both you. Coming home to Remus after a long mission was what you needed to come back. Meaning, missions were always physically and mentally utterly exhausting. You have seen death and destruction during your missions and sometimes you were the one to cause it. You have lost coworkers and friends throughout the years. Remus would hold you until the next day, allowing you to cry and scream. He would wake you up from your nightmares. This went both ways, you were so happy when you came back home when a full moon was going to happen. You enjoyed taking care of him, healing him and providing for him. It reminded you of the old days when both of you were at Hogwarts.

You would wipe the blood from his cuts on his body when the boys would bring him back from a full moon. You would ease his pain and anger when a full moon would be near. Remus would cast a spell for you to stop your bleeding nose or hold you after you were bullied. He’s been with you after everything you had endured in Hogwarts and your home.

You looked over at Harry again, you saw he was done with his food and was speaking with Remus and Sirius. Looking out the window you saw the sun was setting, taking a peek of your watch, you let out a tsk. “I should take Harry back. It’s almost curfew over there.”

Harry looked sad at this and you were quick to grab his hand that was laid on the table.

“This isn’t our last dinner, you know. We are finally together again, all of us. Not trying to be the overbearing aunt but you can send me letters. Use the floo to come over. Maybe spend the weekend at our place, perhaps invite your friends over as well. Remus has told me good things about them.” Harry nods at you with a bright smile.

All his life, his real family didn’t want anything to do with him. Petunia had never once made him feel this wanted and loved. He felt like this was a dream and he was scared that he would wake up soon and all of this would be gone.

“I’ll take him back, you boys stay here.” You said standing up grabbing your jacket from the hook outside of the booth. Remus stands up to kiss your cheek, telling you to be careful as Harry said his goodbye to Sirius.

Waving bye at Remus and Sirius, you walked out of the restaurant. “Wait, I have-.” You stuff Harry’s money back into his pocket.

“No need, my dear.” You said as you signal Harry to follow you. “Thank you for dinner.” Harry said.

“Let’s walk for a bit.” You told him as you walked down the block.

“I didn’t mention anything about my time in Hogwarts in the restaurant but if you like, I can tell you a little bit as we walk. Maybe one day, I'll tell you all about it.” Harry nods at you and he notices how tense you became while stuffing your hands in the pockets of your coat.

“I really didn’t have a good time at first in Hogwarts. I came in pretty late. In the fifth year, I didn’t know much. To be honest, I didn’t know anything about magic. I was an outcast and I was bullied because I was a muggle-born. It did not help that I was in Slytherin, how they hated me at first until they saw the potential in my magic. Some students were kind to me while others were just plain cruel.”

“Did your parents know about the bullying?” Harry asked you as both of you crossed the street to a small park.

Harry saw your eyes closed for a minute before stopping at the corner. “Not really, home was even worse for me.”

Harry frowns as he looks up at you. “My mom died when I was young and my father was an alcoholic who liked to hit.”

“You said he was, does that mean he stopped drinking?” Harry asked and you shook your head.

“He died a few years ago. My father would’ve never stopped. I’m sure if he could, he would be drinking in hell.” You noticed the look in Harry’s eyes.

“No need to look sad.” Harry lets out a deep breath.

“When Remus said you had a rough life, I didn’t think it would be that. I thought it was only my family but not yours.” Harry flinched when you got close to him. You stared at his eyes and he saw your nostrils flare.

“The Dursleys?” You said. “What have they done to you?” Your eyes grew hard when he didn’t say anything.

“Harry! Tell me?” You asked him. Harry shook his head at you but the look in his eyes told you something else.

“It’s over now. They don’t do anything anymore.” He lied. You pulled Harry into a hug and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” He heard you whisper as he hugs you back. He shut his eyes tight as you held him, not caring that his glasses were pressed tight against you. Harry looks up at you as you push his hair away from his face. You cup his face with your hands.

“They will never touch you again. I swear it.” Harry just stares at you. You said it so nonchalantly that he almost believes you.

“People like us, we survive. We survive because we have endured it. We lived through that pain inflicted by others. Use that to your advantage, my dear.”

“Don’t tell Sirius about it. I haven’t told anyone about it. I get enough pity and looks from people because I’m Harry Potter.”

“I know what you mean. Wanting to be normal, wanting to be like everyone else. The stares and the whispers.” Harry agrees with you with a nod.

“They do it right in front of you so you can hear it.” Harry comments and it pained you that he had to deal with that.

Harry and you walked for a few blocks as you told him more about your time in Hogwarts. You told him how it was Dumbledore, who found you. Dumbledore was the one to take you away from your home and take you to Hogwarts. You told Harry that the whole experience felt out of this world. You were in your bedroom when you heard someone walk inside the apartment. Harry tried to cover his laughter when you told him you thought Dumbledore was a crackhead that let himself in and you had called the most powerful wizard an old man to his face.

Checking your watch one more time, you told Harry it was really time to go back. Grabbing his hand, you apparated in front of Hogwarts by the gates. You walk up the hill with him, telling him about the first time you went to Diagon Alley. He smiled and he told you about his experience with Hagrid. Hagrid took him away from his family on his birthday. Standing in front of the castle, you hugged Harry one last time. You kissed his forehead as you said your goodbye.

“You know I wasn’t lying about sending me letters and coming over. You can always spend the summer with me and Remus. I know for a fact Sirius wouldn’t mind if you stay with him. He said he was fixing the house for you to live with him.” Harry smiles.

“Can I call you aunt or Yankee? Maybe aunt Yankee?” Harry asked and you answered with a yes.

“Whatever you wish, my dear boy. I know Remus would love it if you called him uncle Remus or uncle Moony.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “Yes, we may not be your blood family, Harry but Remus and I think of you as our own.” Harry remembers what Remus had told him about you fighting for him when he was a baby.

“But, I must confess something to you, Harry. I need to say this because I don’t want to keep secrets from you.” You told him.

“You can choose whether or not you still want to talk to me but I need to tell you that I have done things in my life that I am not proud of. I have killed and hurt people, bad people. The most despicable people that you can think of.”

Harry watched as you looked over at Hogwarts with a sad look on your face. It was the same look Sirius had when he first saw Hogwarts again after 12 years. He saw tears rolling down your eyes as you looked at the castle.

“I need you to understand I would never hurt you. I will kill myself before I ever hurt you. I needed you to know because there is a war coming and I will be something else when it comes. I have fought in battles over in the states, I have done things to survive, to ensure my safety and others. I don’t want you to think of me as different because of it.”

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest while you spoke. By the look on your face, he knew you were telling the truth.

“I believe you. I believe you won’t hurt me, Yankee.” You smiled at him as you quickly wiped your tears away.

“Go before you get into trouble.” You said waving goodbye at him. You were about to turn around when you heard him yell aunt. He gave you a last goodbye before walking inside.

Remus and Sirius were still in the restaurant, they had ordered another round of beer when you walked back inside.

“How did it go?” Remus asked you as the waiter came back with 3 pints of beer.

“Good.” You answered them and thanked the waitress.

There was a silence between the three of you and Sirius quickly rose up from his seat when he saw you started to cry. Remus made room for Sirius to sit down and tugged you close to him. Remus wrapped his arm around your torso, while you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook while you sobbed. Sirius leaned his head against your shoulder. Dropping your hands from your face, you let out a deep breath.

“I told him what I have done. Told him about the killing. He still called me his aunt afterwards. I thought I was going to lose him. I thought he was going to call me a murderer.”

“You are NOT a murderer. You have done things to survive. For your team to survive. You have stopped people who have done terrible things. People who kill. People who raped the innocent. Harry is smart. He knows the difference.” Remus told you.

“He’s right, Yankee. Harry knows. He has a good heart. He did a noble thing for Peter. Told me he didn’t think his father would have wanted his two best friends to be killers.” Sirius said softly and you felt Remus tense up.

You look ahead and drag Sirius’ pint of beer in front of him. You gave thought to what Sirius told you. You shut your eyes when you remember James telling you something after your wedding.

James had caught you watching Remus and Sirius dancing in the middle of the dance floor. You were leaning against the railing of his backyard porch.

“How long have they been going at it?” You look over at James who was smiling at them.

“For a while now, they are doing every song on the record of Queens.” You answered, making James laugh. He looks over at you.

You raised an eyebrow at him when James kept looking at you. “You alright?” James nods and shoots a quick glance at Remus before looking back at you.

“I’m just happy you guys are together.” You nudge your shoulders at James. “James, you are such a sap.”

“I’m serious. I just know you’ll take care of him.”

Looking over at James. His blue eyes shine with unshed tears. “You are the strongest person I know. I’m happy he has you. I was worried that after school is done he will be alone and have no one.”

“I know he’s good to you. After everything I’m glad you are with Remus. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. I was just so worried, especially with everything that happened. I love him, he’s my brother. Just as I love you, Yankee. You’re the sister I always wish I had.” You glance over at Remus who was bending down, holding his stomach in laughter as Sirius tried to do the worm.

“I’ll take care of Remus if you take care of Sirius.” James gives you a smile.

“Lily and I are going to ask him to move in with us.” You grew happy at that idea, you had no doubt in your mind that Sirius would refuse.

Remus' touch made you open your eyes and you were back at the diner. You looked down at your own cup taking another deep breath, watching the foam on the beer before looking ahead.

‘Don't worry, brother. I’ll take care of them and Harry.’ You said to yourself as you grabbed the handle of the cup.

“I’m gonna kill that fucking rat.” You told Sirius and Remus then brought the cup to your lips. Sirius and Remus shared a look behind you, they knew you meant Peter.

“We know.” Remus and Sirius said simultaneously. They took a sip from their drinks as well. The three of you could have sworn the ghost of Lily and James sat across from the booth. James had his arm around Lily’ shoulder as they laughed. Drowning the pint, Sirius ordered another round. The three of you kept talking and drinking until late. Sirius, Remus and you were reminiscing about the past. Talking about everyone, talking about the pranks Sirius and James used to pull. Before you knew it, you were helping Remus carry Sirius back home.

“He hasn’t had a drink in 12 years and now he’s a lightweight.” You said as Remus opened the door of the house.

“He’s always been a lightweight, love.” Sirius gasps loudly before laughing out loud making you snort as you and Remus help him up the stairs.

“You’re gonna have one hell of a headache, Pads.” You said as Remus opened the door of his room. Sirius let out a giggle when saw his bed and threw himself on top of the covers ignoring Remus calling out for him.

“You need to change.” Remus told him as you started to remove Sirius’ shoes while Remus walked to the dresser across the room.

“Just like old times.” You told Remus who walked back to you and laid a pair of pajamas on the edge of the bed. You dropped one of Sirius’ shoes on the ground before working on the other.

“Thank god, he doesn’t throw up like James.” You commented, making Remus groan as he remembers cleaning James' throw up. You had taken them to a bar in New York and it was the first time James and Sirius had tequila.

“Let me get him a glass of water and a bucket just in case.” Remus said leaving the room as you grab a blanket from the closet. You walked towards him and laid the blanket over him. Sirius calls your name softly as you tuck him in. He grabs your hand.

“I’m glad you're here.” You smile at your drunk friend.

“I’m glad to be here too.” You said while unbuttoning the first top buttons of his dress shirt so he would be comfortable.

“We should change your shirt at least. Can you move?” You asked him softly before adding that he would feel much better with a sleeping shirt on. You smiled to yourself when Sirius agreed with you.

You grabbed the shirt, Remus laid out as he started to remove his jacket and button down shirt. You froze at the amount of tattoos on his body. He looked fragile and you can see his rib cage. You bite down on your tongue to not cry. Sirius used to be buff back in the day, he was more fuller since he played quidditch. You helped him put the shirt on and he dropped back down with a sigh. You folded his dress shirt and jacket, you looked over at him to see him staring at the ceiling.

“Promise me you’ll take care of Harry if the ministry finds me to take me back to Azkaban.”

“Sirius.” You gently said bringing the blanket up to his chest. He looks away from the ceiling at you.

“If they try to take you away again. I’ll protect you. I’ll fight them.” Sirius takes your hand with his, bringing it up to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat.

“I missed you guys so much. Remus has told me so much and - and I don’t want us to break apart. Stay with me here, the both of you. Don’t- please don’t go back to the cottage. Remus can use the basement when there is a full moon.” Sirius rambles and his words become twisted with tears that were running down his face.

“I’ll speak with Remus about it, okay? You need to sleep now, Si.” Sirius nods at you as you wipe the tears from his face with your fingers.

You hear Remus behind you and he placed the glass of water on the nightstand, he puts the bucket by Sirius’ side. You give a look at Remus when he notices Sirius was crying.

“I’m going to get changed. Goodnight, Si.” You said patting Sirius on the leg and walking out of the room to Remus’ room. You shut the door when you heard Sirius talking with Remus.

You hear Sirius begin to cry. “Don’t leave me alone. Please Moony. I want both of you to stay here.” You slowly walk away from the door.

After calming Sirius down and waiting for him to fall asleep Remus quietly shuts the door behind him and walks towards the guest bedroom. Remus starts to unbutton his cardigan as he walks inside, shutting the door. He hears the shower is on, looking over at the bathroom door. He smiles to himself, he’s smiling because you’re here.

He was happy when he received your letter, telling him you will be returning home. Dumbledore contacted the Ministry of Magic in the states, requesting your help permanently. Remus was surprised when you sent another letter saying you will be arriving a week late due to work. Nevertheless, you were coming back. Remus lets out a sigh as he sits on the edge of the bed, removing his watch and shoes. He hears the shower turn off. A few minutes later, you walk out of the bathroom with a white towel around your body.

“How is he?” You asked, walking towards him, Remus grabs your hand pulling you closer to him. You stood between his long legs.

“Sleeping.” Remus answers as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He can smell the body wash on your skin, your hair is damp and he watches the water droplets dribble down your arms.

“I think we should stay for a while, love.” You nod at him, agreeing with him.

“Yeah. We should. Seeing him crying like that hurts me.” Remus looks up at you.

“It hurts me too. I feel stupid for not believing he was innocent. You were right all along.” Remus said, wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him, pressing his face against your body. You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Do not feel stupid, Remus. At one point I thought he did it but it’s in the past now. Sirius is here with us now. Sirius is alive and we know who betrayed our friends. We know who the real culprit is.” You look down and held Remus’ face in your hands making him look up at you. Your chest tightens at the sight of his red eyes. He let out a soft sob as he shook his head.

“He was all alone there. He looks so different now. So pale and skinny.” Remus’ voice cracks.

“I know. I know but we will help him now. He won’t be alone anymore. We are here and Harry is with us. No more being alone. No more. We are finally together, a family. “ Remus nods.

“Together.” Remus said, you lean down to kiss him. You pull away to kiss his forehead then hug him again.

“I missed you so much.” He tells you. “Me too, baby.”

You feel Remus’ hand touch your bare legs. You truly missed him, it wasn’t the same. Your fingers, the toy you had wasn’t the same as him. He gently squeezed the back of your legs before making their way up to your hips under the towel.

You wanted to tell him about Harry and what he told you about the Dursley. You wanted to do something about it. Remus kissed your arms that were over his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks you in a worried tone. You weren’t surprised. Remus knew your body better than you. Plus it helped that both of you were bonded together. Remus kept looking at you and you grew anxious at your idea that you had. You just hope that he won't get mad at it.

“Baby.” You smiled when he said that. You remember like it was yesterday when you first called him that when you started dating him. He had blushed at the word and asked you if that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends called each other in the states.

“I have to tell you something.” You said in a shaky voice.

The night was cold as you stood in front of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. You drew your wand out as you stared at the white front door. The locks undid itself from the inside out and the door opens.

Walking inside you looked around, you heard snoring coming from upstairs. Shutting the door behind you, you walked further inside. You were about to make your way into the kitchen when you came to a halt when you stood in front of the door of the cupboard under the stairs. Staring at the door, you felt something heavy on your chest. That feeling was there, the same feeling that has helped you throughout your missions. Facing the door, you looked at the small lock on it. Pointing the lock with your wand, it unlatches itself and the lock drops down onto the carpeted ground. Pulling the door open, the end of your wand lit up. Your eyes grew wide when you saw a pillow and a blanket on a thin and raggedy mattress. Looking around you saw drawings taped on the wall with Harry’s name written on the bottom corner of the papers, you took a deep breath as you continued to look around and stopped when you saw three little toys, soldiers to be exact. Dust has collected over them and you took a step away from the cupboard. The door shuts itself.

You hoped it wasn’t true. Your hands shook and you let out a sigh before slamming your fist on the door hard. You pushed yourself away from the door and walked into the kitchen/living room. You walked in front of the fireplace in the living room. Your eyes loomed over the picture frames above the fireplace. You growled at the sight of Petunia with her husband and her kid. All the pictures were of three of them. There were no pictures of Harry.

You let out a shout as you waved your wand at the massive amount of picture frames above the fireplace. The frames came crashing down making noise, you look over at the frames hanging on the wall. There was no Harry and another crash came down.

Vernon woke up from the sound of it. Petunia quickly woke up as well and told him to go down. Vernon got up and began to walk down the steps to the living room with Petunia behind him. There was another crash and Vernon decided to shout for the intruder to stop. Vernon froze when he walked into the kitchen/living room. It was a complete mess, glass from the picture frames were everywhere. The dining table was flipped over and the couch was ripped open, the white stuffing was pulled out.

“What is going on here!?” Vernon shouted as Petunia walked beside him. She let out a gasp not because of the state of the room but because of you. You were sitting in front of the fireplace, facing them while you sat on a dining chair. You had a leg over the other as you leaned back. Vernon's eyes grew wide when he saw you had a cigarette hanging from your lips.

“Petunia. You haven’t changed a bit. You still look like shit.” You said looking at Lily’s older sister. She wore a nightgown and hair rollers on top of her head. Vernon had a gray shirt and plaid pants along with a dark blue robe.

“What is the meaning of this?” Vernon shouted making his way to you but you pulled out your wand and pointed it at him making him freeze.

“You are one of those freaks.” He shouts at you as you blow smoke out from your mouth. He gets more mad when the ashes fall on the ground.

“What do you want?” Petunia asked harshly, eyeing you up and down.

“I know something.” Lily’s sister frowns at you as you stare back at her.

“It has come to my attention on how you have been treating Harry all these years.” The married couple looked at each then down to the ground.

“Not even trying to deny it?” You asked.

“You listen here, you bitch. Get out of my house.” Vernon snapped at you and you laughed while throwing the cigarette in the fireplace.

“I’ll leave after I’m done with you.” They jumped when they saw you disappear in mid air. Vernon shouted when he felt you behind him, your wand pointing at his fat neck. He raised his hands up, in surrender.

Petunia was going to jump at you when you pulled your gun out with your other hand and pointed it at her head. She lets out a gasp at the sight of the barrel aiming at her.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Stand by the wall.” You hissed at her without removing your eyes at Vernon. She obey and leaned against the wall behind you.

“I want to know everything.” You said tilting your head at Vernon. He winced when he felt a horrible sensation in his head. You stared at him as you read his mind. Your teeth grinded together as you watched how they treated Harry. Locking him up under the stairs for days ends, sometimes without water and food. You gave him a frown when you saw how poorly they treated Harry.

Petunia saw your body shake as Vernon shouted in pain. “Stop it! Stop it!” She shouted and Vernon fell down to the ground. Your hand holding the wand dropped down to your side. The grasp on your gun tightened as you turned around to look at her.

“Your own nephew, your flesh and blood.” Petunia flinched under your gaze. She started to cry when you cocked the gun and walked closer to her. You were standing right in front of her.

“You really are a heartless bitch. You are filled with hate because you were jealous of Lily. Do you know how many times I comforted her because of you? She just wanted her sister to love her.” Petunia sobbed when she felt the barrel of your gun under her chin. You let out a scoff at the sight of her and for a second her eyes looked over your shoulders.

“Run!” Petunia shouted and you looked over to see Vernon had gotten up and was now running to the front door. Vernon managed to open it and froze when he saw a tall man with scars on his face standing by the entrance.

“Mr. Dudley.” Vernon’ eyes were wide when he felt something touch his stomach. The man was holding a wand.

“Get back inside. Right fucking now.” You gave Petunia a smile when you heard Remus.

Remus slammed the door behind him as Vernon walked inside backwards into the living room. Remus looks at you and you allow him to look inside your mind. Petunia shouted when Remus let out a growl and grabbed Vernon from the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the wall. His hand wrapped around Vernon’s neck as the images of Harry being abused ran through his mind.

Vernon flinched at Remus’ low growl.

“I’m not the only one that is angry. Petunia, I can feel and hear his thoughts. He wants to kill your husband.” You whispered to her.

“What do you want?” Petunia cried as she looked over your shoulder at Vernon.

“Are you going to do what I say?” She nodded frantically as tears ran down her face.

“You swear?” You asked as you moved the gun to the crown of her forehead.

“I swear!” She shouted with all her might.

“Next time Harry comes here. You will treat him like a son. Do you understand me if he comes to this place for any fucking reason you better treat him right? You will not lock him up in his bedroom upstairs anymore. You’re so fucking lucky you switch rooms because if he was still sleeping under the fucking stairs I would have blow your husband brains out.” Petunia sobbed at you but nodded.

“I promise. I promise.”

“Petunia if you lie to me and keep treating Harry like that.” You grab her chin, making her look down at you.

“I’m going to take your precious son away from you.” You pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her. Petunia trembles against you as she sobbed.

“You have no idea the extent I will go through to protect my loved ones.” You whispered in her ear.

“Now, since we have that settled. I will know if you tell anyone about this and if you do tell anyone, even Harry. Your husband dies and your son gets taken away.”

Remus looks over his shoulder as Petunia promises you. She’s sobbing and her cries started to get to him. His grip on Vernon tightened as Petunia cried out once more that she would keep promise. Remus glanced back at Vernon, his eyes hard and jaw clenched.

“Let’s see how much you like it.” Vernon frowns at Remus’ words. You were about to leave the room when Remus forcibly pushed Vernon towards the stairs. The door of the cupboard opens by itself and Vernon is shouting as Remus pushes him inside.

“I saw it was three days that you left Harry inside of here. Without food or water.” Remus said, placing his hands on the door after he shuts it close. Vernon’s shouting is muffled.

Petunia cried as you walked away from her towards Remus. You saw him shut his eyes as the door locked itself, a golden line appeared around it surrounding the door. The line dissolved and he tried to open it. It was locked.

Remus had always been good with charms.

Remus felt your hand on his back and turned to you. Petunia is standing in horror as she watches the whole thing. She knew about Remus just as she did with you. Tall and lanky Remus was her sister’s best friend in Hogwarts. She remembers being so annoyed that she had to open the door of her home for him. Remus would visit Lily during breaks. She has never seen him look so angry, his eyes were filled with hate. The eyes of Remus Lupin practically glowed as he caught her staring at him.

“After three days it will open.” Remus said before taking to your hand.

“Say hello to Dudley for me.” You told her before walking out of the house with Remus. The front door shuts close by itself when both of you step out. Last thing you heard before leaving was Petunia banging on the door of the cupboard.

Remus and you appear back at grimmauld, he opens the door for you and sees Kreacher standing on top of the stairs. He gives Remus and you a look of disgust before disappearing in mid air.

“What an angel.” You said sarcastically while removing your coat, Remus doesn't say a word, he takes your coat and hangs it up along with his on the coat rack.

You look over your shoulder to see Remus staring at the coat rack. His shoulders are tense and you hug him from behind, wrapping your arms around his torso as you lay your head against his back. You inhaled the scent of cigarette and laundry detergent on him. He was waiting outside the house in case someone had escaped. Remus was smoking as he watched you enter the home of the Dursley.

“Thank you for coming with me.” You said as you felt him grab a hold of your hands. You were nervous he wouldn't come with you to deal with them.

“I didn't want to believe it at first.” Remus’ voice crack. “When I saw his memories, I wanted to kill him. Kill him for treating Harry so badly.”

“We could have raised him better.” You shut your eyes tightly letting him talk. Not being able to be Harry’s parent was heartbreaking for you but it broke Remus. The last connection he had of Lily and James was gone.

“We didn't have much but we would have done a better job than them.” Remus' body shook and you held him tighter.

“We have him now. We have protected him from them. He has two years left until he can decide where to live. I think we scared the Dursley enough for two years.” Remus turns to face you.

“Did you mean when you said that you would have killed him, you would kill the husband?” Remus asked and you looked up at him. You nodded at him.

“I would have.” You said. “Seeing young Harry crying under the stairs-.” You shook your head trying to get rid of the thought. You were getting angry.

“Watching him go hungry and that piece of shit taunting him.” Remus is silent and you can see he was thinking.

“Are you afraid of me?” You asked him softly looking into his eyes, hoping not to see fear. You don’t think you will be able to handle it if Remus was afraid of you. Remus wasn’t kept in the dark from the missions you had done. He knew every person you killed and every person you prisoned. He was there in the states after a terrible mission went wrong years ago, he was told of the horrors you had endured. You were gone for four months before you were founded along your team.

“No.” He told you, bringing his hands up to cup your face. Your hair was now dried and you wore an old sweater you took from him and a pair of dark jeans.

“I can never be afraid of you.” Remus mumbled against your forehead then pressed a kiss against it. His lips went down to kiss the side of your face, you shut your eyes as he rubbed your cheek with his thumbs as he continued to kiss you. He leans down to capture your lips.

He drinks your moan as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He pushed you gently against the wall, he had you pin up as he pulled away from your lips. With his forehead against yours, he’s breathing heavily.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers and you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him. Remus whines as you make out with him. He smirked against your lips when he felt your hands on his hips, fingers making their way to his belt.

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, you look at him with hooded eyes as you undo his belt and unzip his trousers.

“I missed you too. So bad, I would-oh god. I would touch myself with your sweaters back in the states.” Remus lets out a pleased groan as his fingers work with the button of your jeans.

“Did you cum on it?” Remus asks as your mouth drops open when he slips his hands inside your pants. He licks his lips when he feels your soft curls on your mound. The tip of his fingers are wet when he rubs against your clit.

“Yes.” You whine as Remus kisses your neck as his fingers swirled around your clit, pressing hard against it. You grabbed his arms when he nibbled on your neck.

He moans when he licks the healed bite mark on your neck as he fastens his strokes, you blush at the sound of your wet cunt. Remus growls when your underwear restricts him from going faster. He removes his hand and quickly takes you to the living room.

You push him on to the dark green couch that stood in front of the fireplace, it was on. Kreacher must have started a fire to keep the old house warm. Remus watches as you tip your shoes off. He blinks and he sees you have used magic to remove your pants and underwear before he can do the same thing. You got on top of him, straddling him.

Remus meets your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands rubbed your outer legs before pushing the sweater you had up, showing your bare chest. He groaned when he felt your bare chest, you didn’t put on a bra. The thought of you without wearing one made him grow harder.

“Fuck.” You whispered, pulling away from his lips when he rubs your nipple with one hand. Remus licks his lips watching your pretty face.

He feels your cunt against this groin, he’s biting his bottom lip when your hips swirled on him. It’s been too long, too long without you. Remus counted the days whenever you were to return back home. Days would be spent together, in bed and out of bed. Enjoying each other's bodies and minds. Remus felt like he was a teenager again when you removed his sweater and threw it over the couch. Remus’ mouth dropped when he saw your naked figure. He will always be amazed by it.

You looked like a painting to him. Years working as an auror was shown on your body, there were few scars over your shoulders and arms. Some were on your legs and thighs. Scars from your childhood, is a reminder to Remus how strong you are, how you survived. Remus knows how many you have, he has kissed each of them. Just as you did to him. His heart fills up with warmth when he remembers the days after a full moon. You would kiss his fresh scars, kiss his lips and remind him how much you loved him.

Remus watches you place your hands on his chest when you move your hips. Your wet pussy is soaking the crotch of his trousers.

Remus grabs you by the hips and pushes you to rise up. He’s breathing heavily as he pushes his trousers and boxers further down. His cock springs out and he’s looking up at you as he teases your slicked lips with the head of his cock. You gasped when you felt his fat head rub against your clit.

“Please.” Remus begs and you slowly lower yourself down on his cock. He helps you when you cry out when you slide down on his girthy shaft. He groans when your tight cunt clenches around him. His hands grips your hips, he breathes through his mouth, trying to calm himself, to not lose control and start thrusting upwards.

“Oh baby - is so big.” You tell him with a high pitched whine. Remus groaned when you began to roll your hips, his hands on your hips started to help you to move up and down. He was getting impatient, he had to feel you cum in his dick. It’s been so long since he felt your cunt cumming on him.

Moaning his name, you look down at Remus. He brings a hand to your face, pulling you down to lay your forehead against his. His eyes were wide as he stared at you while riding him. Your nails were digging on the shirt he wore. You imagined him naked, oh fuck Remus was still in clothes but you couldn’t stop. How could you stop when his cock is hitting you on your sweet spot. It made your toes curl up, Remus started to speak in Welsh. His voice is low and deep, you clenched around him once more.

You knew a few words here and there but hearing him speak in his mother tongue made your pussy drool. You rode him harder, the couch under him creaked.

“That’s it. That’s it, yes.” Remus praised you as he kissed your neck. You cry out when you feel his teeth on your neck, throwing your head back when he grabbed your hips with both hands and pulled you all the down to his lap.

A growl escapes from his lips and he begins to thrust his hips upwards. He struggles with his trouser now and you swore you can hear it rip. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

“Remus.” You cry out when he starts pounding you from underneath. Your clit is rubbing against his happy trail. You feel him deep inside of you when you cum. Remus is cupping your ass, squeezing it as you cum on him. Remus groans as he squishes his face against your chest. His mouth finds your nipple and he starts to suck on it while you twitch on his cock.

Remus feels you gush in his lap and it makes him release his load deep inside of you. You feel his nails digging into your skin, you drop your weight on him and he welcomes it. Wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you close as he leans back on the couch.

It’s quiet for a few moments, Remus is breathing heavily as he holds you. He hears your heart beating so loudly as he is still pressed against your chest. Your arms around his shoulder move up to his neck. He looks up when he feels you push his hair away from his face.

“Fy nghariad.” (My love.) You whispered to him in welsh.

---

Sirius wakes up with a massive headache. He sat up as he pushed his messy curls out of his face. Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he groans when he starts to remember last night. He was crying, Remus was in tears, Harry cried and you cried. Fuck, everyone was crying.

But even with all the crying and the sad feelings. Sirius smiled as he remembered your words, back together as a family.

He remembered Remus’ words before he fell asleep. His dear friend had grabbed his hands and assured him that they would be staying with him. Sirius' smile didn’t falter, he rose up from his bed and grabbed his wand from the night stand. He had no doubt, it was Remus who placed it knowing he was going to need it.

Sirius opened the door of his bedroom and walked out. Looking down the hall all the way at the end. He sees the guest bedroom door is closed, he keeps walking to the staircase.

‘I’ll let them rest.’ Sirius tells himself. Sirius knew that Remus and you would want to sleep in. He makes his way into the living room when he almost slips. He shouts loudly but catches himself in time. With his hand on the wall, he looks down to see a sweater.

It couldn’t be his because he has never worn a sweater that wasn’t his quidditch sweater. Plus it was dark green, green isn’t his color. He looks around the living room to see other pieces of clothing around the living room.

“Ridiculous, this is. That werewolf and mudblood are messy and leave their disgusting clothes everywhere.” Sirius rolled his eyes and was about to walk into the kitchen when he noticed a pink underwear by the edge of the rug.

His cheeks flared up in a blush and he’s about to continue on to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He yells at Kreacher to answer it as he walks into the kitchen. He gives a silent thanks to that old grouchy elf when he sees the kettle was on. He grabs a cup and a plate from the wall and Kreacher pops near him.

“Master Black. Someone strange is here for the mudblood.” Sirius’ eyes darkened once Kreacher repeated that foul name again. He had to stopped it, if you going to stay here. He pointed a finger at Kreacher.

“Stop saying that. I mean it.” Kreacher just bows and Sirius walks out of the kitchen to the living room. At first Sirius believes he’s still sleeping. There’s a man, a cowboy. A tall man with blue jeans along with a sliver large buckle belt and light beige color suit jacket, he has a brown cowboy hat on top of his head and it matches with his brown boots.

“Howdy, there sir. The name is Miles and I’m lookin’ for Mrs. Lupin.”

Before Miles, the cowboy can speak again. Sirius just yells loudly as he stares at the man in front of him.

“YANNNNNNKEEEEEEEEE!!”

Chapter 1

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