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xoxoavenger · 2 years

Text

Lies of Omission

pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader, Void!Stiles x Fem!Reader

summary: (not based off episode Lies of Omission) Everyone has been lying to Y/N about Stiles, but they can’t lie when she feels Void’s wrath first hand.

word count: 3412

warnings: violence, not proofread

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

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“We need to tell her.” Allison said, looking at the couple across the room. Y/N was leaning against the wall, and Stiles was holding her hands, telling her a couple lies to cover things up. He had to tell her something, since he was going to be gone for awhile.

“Stiles doesn’t want her to know right now.” Scott whispered, not able to tear his eyes away from them. He was slightly jealous that their relationship had outlasted his and Allison’s, even if he was happy for his best friend.

“She’s gonna find out somehow, shouldn’t she find out before it gets worse?” Isaac asked, arms crossed. Scott turned to the group, all their eyes pleading.

“Who’s to say he’s not telling her right now?” Lydia asked, eyebrows raised with hope.

“He’s not.” Isaac and Scott said at the same time. Lydia hit Scott lightly for listening in, and the two werewolves focused on the conversation they were having, letting the couple have privacy.

“We need to tell her before the poison wears off.” Kira said, making Allison look around. They were all conflicted, caught in the same argument they’d been having ever since they found out Stiles was the Nogitsune.

“Aren’t you afraid of how she’ll react? Stiles asked me to keep it a secret for right now.” Scott told them.

“Is it a secret if all of us know?” Isaac looked to the alpha, who looked torn. He took a deep breath, looking at the couple again. Y/N was nodding, and Scott fought off the urge to listen in. “She’s been with you guys since the beginning, she was there for you when you didn’t even know what was going on.” It was a low blow, a guilt trip attempt, but it seemed to work as Scott nodded, wiping his face with his hand.

“If he hasn’t told her by the time the poison wears off, we’ll tell her.” Scott agreed, making Lydia shake her head.

“The longer we keep it from her the worse it’s gonna be when she finds out. What if she finds out because the Nogitsune tries to hurt her? She’s going to think it’s Stiles.” She told them, Allison and Kira nodding. The boys shared a look, neither of them wanting to think about that possibility.

“I agree with Lydia; we can’t keep it from her forever. Especially if it comes back before we figure out what to do.” Before Allison could finish, Stiles was walking over to the group.

“I have to go talk with my dad, I’ll be back later.” He put a jacket on as he spoke, and Scott grabbed his arm.

“Dude, we have to come up with a plan.” Stiles looked around, eyes stopping on Scott.

“Can you guys just do it without me? I really need to talk to my dad right now.” He looked over at Y/N, who was still standing against the wall, and then back at the group.

“I thought you were the one that comes up with plans.” Kira said, making Stiles shake his head and sigh. He looked stressed, tired, and half dead, and everyone was worried.

“I am, but I need you guys to do this one. I’ll be back soon.” With that he walked out. The group was left looking at each other, until Scott and Isaac both snapped their heads to Y/N. She was crying, head in her hands as she tried to be quiet.

“Y/N?” Lydia asked as she walked over to the girl. The group followed, watching as Y/N lifted her head, looking at all them.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I know that Stiles is lying to me but I don’t know why.” She told them, shaking her head. They all tried not to act suspicious.

“Why would you think that?” Kira asked, making Y/N shake her head and look up, wiping her tears.

“I don’t know, it’s just, I have a feeling. I don’t know what he’s lying about but I know it’s something big and it’s driving me crazy.” Y/N confessed, looking back at the group. They all tried to cover their guilty faces, and luckily Y/N was too upset to notice. “I’m probably just being crazy.” Y/N mumbled, looking away.

“Hey, you’re not crazy.” Scott put a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled. “If he’s lying to you, he has to have a good reason. He would never lie to you for no reason.” Scott assured her, watching her nod her head.

“I know, but that’s what scares me. If there’s something so important, why would he lie about it to me?” Before anyone could crack, Kira, Allison and Lydia were all grabbing their bags. They couldn’t bear to lie to their friend any longer.

“Man, it’s really late, wow, I have to go.” Lydia said, not even looking at a clock.

“Same, same, my dad’s probably worried.” Allison said, putting her boots on. They were all in a rush to get out.

“I didn’t even tell my parents I was coming so,” Kira smiled guilty, and they all uttered rushed goodbyes before leaving.

“Why is he lying?” Y/N asked, squinting at Scott. This just cemented that something bad was going on, and she wanted to know immediately. She knew that if the girls wouldn’t stay to comfort her, they had to know too.

“Y/N,” Scott sighed, trying to buy time to figure out what to tell her.

“He’s not just going camping for three days, is he? Where is he really going?” She pressed, making Scott shake his head.

“I don’t know about that, he didn’t tell me.” Scott told her, but Y/N just hit him, tears rolling down her face.

“Just tell me!” She yelled, and Scott just stared, thinking. Why would Stiles tell her he was leaving?

“I’m being honest, I don’t know! You can even ask Isaac.” They both turned to beta, who was shaking his head.

“We had no idea.” He agreed, hands up in surrender.

“So what do you know about?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms, Scott looked down, thinking about what she had said earlier.

“You said he’s going camping for three days?” He asked, looking at her.

“Yeah,” She nodded. “But he’s lying. I know he is.” Y/N looked at them, and then it clicked for Scott; why Stiles hadn’t told him he was leaving but told Y/N.

“Isaac,” Scott looked at him and then at Y/N, and Isaac understood. He grabbed Y/N, who started screaming.

“Scott, no, you have to let me come! What’s wrong with him? Scott!” Y/N yelled out as Scott grabbed his helmet and keys from the table, rushing out. “Isaac! Why are you doing this?” Y/N cried as they watched the lights on Scott’s bike fade. Once the light was gone and Isaac was sure Y/N couldn’t follow Scott, he let go.

“I’m sorry, I-I had to.” Isaac told her, shying away.

“What, Scott becomes and Alpha and you become his bitch?” Y/N spat. She didn’t mean it, they both knew, but it still hurt. She was hurting and angry and she wanted to take it out on everyone else who knew what was happening.

“I’m gonna let that slide because I know you’re hurting.” Isaac told her, moving to go to his ‘room.’ It was a small guest room, one Melissa had graciously let him turn into his own, even if he didn’t have many belongings to do that. “I can sleep on the couch, you can take my bed.” Isaac told her, taking one of the pillows off the bed and moving it to the small extra couch shoved in the corner of the room.

“I don’t have to stay here.” Y/N told him, making him shake his head.

“I know Stiles drove you, and I also know you’re exhausted. Why aren’t you sleeping?” He asked, grabbing the extra blanket off the top of the couch and laying down. Y/N sat on the bed, moving to take her shoes off.

“I’ve been staying with Stiles. He has nightmares, like, a lot, and it always keeps me up.” Y/N took her socks off, then her jacket, laying on the bed.

“Have you said anything to him?” Isaac asked, turning on his side. They were facing each other now, even though in the dark they couldn’t see much.

“No, but he knows. He keeps telling me not to come over, that I don’t deserve that, but I don’t care. I want to be there for him.” She confessed, making Isaac nod. He shifted, not wanting to continue the conversation but also not wanted to leave Y/N feeling like he wasn’t listening or caring. “Goodnight.” She finally said, getting under the covers.

“It’s actually the morning.” Isaac said, just to be a little shit. Y/N chuckled lightly, but she was halfway asleep when her head hit the pillow.

Y/N woke up slowly, much different than the way she normally woke up. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking around before remembering that she had stayed with Isaac last night. Isaac was long gone, blanket folded on top of the couch and pillow back on his bed. Y/N sat up, looking for her phone before giving up, figuring it was in the living room somewhere. When she finally did find a clock, she almost gasped.

It was 6. P.M. She had slept for thirteen hours.

Y/N shot out of bed, not bothering to remake Isaac’s bed like she normally did. She ran down the stairs, looking around for her phone.

“You’re awake.” Scott said, sitting on the couch reading a book. Y/N barely spared him a glance, looking around.

“Where’s my phone?” She asked, not able to find it on the kitchen or coffee tables.

“It’s in my room charging. I figured you’d want to wake up to a charged phone.” Scott smiled, and Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Y/N asked, stretching. Her back hurt and her muscles ached from being in bed that long.

“I figured you needed the sleep. You were up late, and Isaac told me you haven’t been sleeping.” Scott dog-eared his page before setting down his book, leaning forward to talk to Y/N.

“Where’s Stiles?” She asked, her arm over her head. Scott sighed, looking around.

“I can’t tell you yet.” He said, making her roll her eyes.

“No, of course not.” She sighed, walking back up to Isaac’s room. She started putting on her socks and shoes, and was just grabbing her jacket when Scott yelled to her.

“I have to go. Lydia and I, we have a couple things-“

“Great, I was leaving anyway.” Y/N told him, walking down the stairs and to the door.

“Let me take you home.” Scott offered as he followed her to the lawn.

“Pass.” Y/N said, continuing to walk.

“Y/N, it’s not a close walk. It’s supposed to rain.” Scott told her, making her shrug and continue to walk down the sidewalk.

“Good thing I brought a coat and comfortable shoes.” She told him. Scott got on his bike, slowly following her.

“Let me take you home.” Scott begged, but Y/N shook her head.

“I’ll let you take me home if you tell me what’s going on with Stiles.” She bargained, making Scott open his mouth but ultimately shake his head in disagreement.

“I can’t.” He confessed, sighing. Y/N just kept walking, not even looking at him.

“Which means there’s something seriously wrong with him and none of you will tell me.” She sounded pissed, and Scott was feeling even worse now.

“He’s not-“

“Go.” She cut him off, and he just flipped his helmet to cover his eyes.

“Y/N, please call me when you get home.” And with that he left, knowing he wasn’t getting an answer.

Y/N was three hours into her walk, and she was almost there. Her legs hurt like hell, but she had already walked four miles by the time she realized that she left her phone at Scott’s house. She was only about a mile and a half away from her house, and she couldn’t wait to fall back asleep. Just her luck, it had started to rain as well. She put on her coat, one that was actually Stiles’ sweater, zipped up as far as it could go, putting the hood over her head. It was dark and cold, and she could barely see anything as she walked on the sidewalk, just focused on getting back home. It’s probably how she ran into someone on the side of the road.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see. I’m just,” She looked up, cutting herself off. “Stiles?” She asked, looking at the man in front of her. It was Stiles, alright, but he was wearing only sweats and a tee-shirt, not even shivering even though his clothes were soaked all the way through. She could barely make out the large bags under his eyes in the light of the street lamp. When her eyes got to his mouth, which was smirking, she realized something had to be wrong. Everything just felt so wrong.

“Hello, princess.” Stiles smiled, making Y/N shiver. She didn’t leave though; she had to figure out what was going on.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” She demanded. Stiles grabbed her arm, tightly, and she jerked away. He wouldn’t budge, however, and Y/N struggled to continue to make eye contact with him.

“He was a fool for not telling you.” Stiles chuckled darkly as Y/N tried to kick him. Stiles just sighed, then hit her with one brisk movement, knocking her out.

Y/N woke up slowly once more, head pounding. She tried to move, and that’s when she realized she was tied up. When she looked around, she couldn’t see much. It was dark except for the small amount of light that filtered through the ceiling.

“Stiles?” She asked, but as she spoke she realized her lip was split and speaking made it open up again. She breathed through her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut. Her heart was racing as she realized she was alone. She couldn’t think of what to do; she had no phone, no idea where she was, and she was mad at everyone anyway, so they wouldn’t expect her to call for awhile.

“Your eyes may be closed, but I know you’re awake.” Y/N opened her eyes to see Stiles, who was smirking but still looked different. Y/N stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on and what kind of elaborate trick was going on.

“Stiles? What’s going on?” She asked, watching her boyfriend rub his hands together, looking scarily happy and crazy. Something was definitely wrong.

“Oh,” Stiles laughed lowly, making Y/N shudder. “What is the McCall pack weakness?” He asked quickly, making her blink. She was so confused.

“What do you mean?” She had barely gotten the words out of her mouth when he hit her; slapped her across the face without a second thought. She gasped in shock and pain, confused as to why he was hurting her. The Stiles she knew would never lash out at her.

“You know what I mean.” Stiles told her, squatting down in front of her. Y/N shook her head, trying not to look at him. If she thought too hard about the fact that the man she loved was hurting her, she wouldn’t be able to get out. Her heart was shattering by the second. It already made her sick to her stomach.

“Why,” Y/N whispered, tears falling down her face. Stiles instantly stood and grabbed her face, bringing it close to him. They stared at each other for quite some time, quiet and unmoving. Stiles finally moved toward her, his lips brushing hers, and despite everything, her heart sped up. Her brain was muddled and confused, and she couldn’t understand why Stiles would do this. Why was he asking about Scott’s pack?

“You’re just so gorgeous.” Stiles whispered, but his voice was different; it sounded almost slimy. Y/N tried to jerk away, but he held her jaw tight. “Your confusion is delicious.” He licked her neck then, and Y/N suppressed a shutter of disgust. Something was seriously wrong with Stiles, and it was tearing her apart.

“Stiles, whatever is going on, I can help you. Let me help you.” She pleaded, struggling lightly with the restraints. Stiles laughed, shaking his head as he stood and turned away.

“Your help isn’t needed.” He told her, turning back around with the smirk plastered on his face once more. “And while I do love keeping you here, I need you to go back soon. You obviously don’t know anything, so this part of the plan is over.” He told her. Y/N almost sighed in relief; her muscles were starting to ache and her heart couldn’t take much more. Her body was sore in a couple places, and she figured Stiles had hurt her before she woke up.

“We can help you.” Y/N pleaded, because she knew she’d be unable to leave him. Something had to be wrong, because she was sure this was not her Stiles.

“Hopefully they tell you the truth after this.” Stiles ignored her, pulling a switchblade out of his pocket. Y/N’s eyes widened, and she struggled as he came at her with it. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’m not going to kill you.” He told her before quickly slicing across her collar bone. She let out a shriek at the pain, but it was cut off by another slap to her face. She just kept her head turned, hoping that if she didn’t look at him then it wouldn’t hurt as much.

It hurt so much.

“Y/N? Y/N, come on.” Y/N opened her eyes, surprised to see that it was dark outside. She knew she had blacked out at some point when Stiles had been hurting her, but she wasn’t sure when. When she thought back to her torture, it was blurred and unfocused, not unlike a dream. She looked around, seeing her friends looking at her with concern.

“Oh, thank God.” Allison said, hand over her heart. Scott helped Y/N sit up, and she realized she had been on the concrete.

“It’s time you tell me about Stiles.” She told everyone, groaning as she was lifted up.

“Do you need a hospital?” Isaac asked, looking over her injuries.

“No! I need to know why Stiles did this and how to fix it.” She said, taking in everyone’s shocked and sad faces.

“You’re still bleeding.” Scott pointed out, moving her hair away from the cut on her collar bone. She hissed in pain as the hair swiped across it, trying to hold back the tears as she began to really feel the soreness in her face.

“I’m fine.” She mumbled, but she still felt light headed. Scott held onto her, but his worried face didn’t escape her view.

“I know you want to figure out what’s wrong with Stiles, but he asked us not to tell you.” Lydia said, crossing her arms as a breeze made it’s way through the group.

“Why would he do that?” Y/N asked, now shivering. The group silently decided to make their way to the cars, hopefully taking Y/N to the hospital.

“It’s complicated.” Kira said, sighing as Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Are we really doing this?” Scott asked, making everyone sigh and groan.

“We don’t have a choice.” Allison said, stopping in the middle of the road. “He took her, Scott. Void did all this and she had no idea. We can’t keep Stiles’ secret if it means he’s gonna die.” Everyone seemed to agree, all of them climbing into cars. Scott took his motorcycle, and he let Kira ride with him, leaving everyone else to Lydia’s car. Y/N got the front seat, and Lydia put in directions to the hospital.

“It’s not that bad.” Y/N said as the GPS began to instruct Lydia.

“Yes, it is.” Isaac said from the back, making Y/N roll her eyes.

“You all are avoiding the main point. Stiles,” She couldn’t continue, tears forming in her eyes at the thought of Stiles inflicting this pain onto her.

“He’s been possessed.” Allison said quietly, but Y/N still heard it. She looked at Lydia, who kept her eyes on the road and her mouth pressed into a tight line. She grimaced in pain as she twisted to see Allison, who was looking into her lap.

“What?” Y/N asked, swearing she heard wrong.

“Stiles was possessed by a dark, evil spirit.” Lydia confirmed, and Y/N just nodded, pain fading away as everything began to feel numb.

Her head hit he car window as she passed out.

#void stiles #void stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf x reader #stiles x reader #void x reader

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years

Text

Home

summary: you and tom haven't seen each other in months and he surprises you.

SUPER fluffy !requested one shot!

you can either listen to the song while reading or start listening to it when it tells you to! Home by Caite Turner - the song in which this is based off of :).

***********

5 months.

5 months since I've seen Tom.

He's been in Atlanta for filming Spider-Man No Way Home and at Christmas he spent time with his family before going back.

I hadn't seen him in so long. Facetiming and phone calls could never come close to the feeling of being with him. It feels like such an alien thing now, even thinking about us spending time together. Like it's something of the past...

We tried to call every day but that became difficult as Toms only day off is Monday and I'm working and the time difference. Everything just seems so difficult and forced. But we still do it. Because we want to see and talk to each other but it's just so exhausting with the time difference.

I'd wake up earlier to call and say good morning and I'd end up staying up late on Facetime with him. So my sleep schedule was completely messed up, along with all the emotions that come with a long distance relationship. Then it's heightened even more because Tom is famous and tabloids follow him everywhere. The recent buzz for Cherry has had people asking about his love life - or rather our love life but they don't know we're together. No one apart from our friends and family do.

I missed him. I really missed him. It hurts my heart every time he posts to Instagram or I see interviews from him.

We had scheduled a Facetime for tonight. It was 10pm for me and 6pm for him. Not too bad.

I was absolutely knackered so I was just getting ready for bed when my phone started ringing.

I grinned, picking the phone up and answering the call.

"Hey, handsome." I giggled at the phone screen, sitting it up on my dresser as I got changed.

"Hey, darling. How are you?" He asked, placing a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

He was in his signature pink hoodie with a baseball cap on backwards. His phone was rested against something on his dinner table and I watched as he ate his tea.

"I'm good. Tired but good. How about you? How was work?" I asked, taking some makeup wipes out.

"Oh, sorry baby." He pouted.

"No, no, it's okay. M'used to it." I laughed lightly.

He furrowed his brows slightly as I wiped my makeup off.

"y/n."

I looked at him. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry-

"I love you." He said with a slight smile.

Don't cry, don't cry-

"I love you too, babe. I miss you." I swallowed, trying to keep the lump of sobs from bursting out.

"I miss you, too. It's been 5 months since we've seen each other. I left for Atlanta 5 months ago today." He sighed, taking another forkful of food.

I took a deep breath, throwing the makeup wipes into the bin, "It's been so long."

"I know, darling, I know. But..."

He reached over the table. I heard papers shuffle and I quirked a brow as I got into bed, only my bedside lamp giving me a warm light. I snuggled into my blankets, propping my phone against a pillow.

"I just happened to be coming to London next Friday." He said nonchalantly, fiddling with a plane ticket.

My eyes widened and I stared at my phone screen.

"Y-you're kidding." I felt my heart rate rise.

He grinned, "Nope. Filming finishes next week. I'm coming to you next Friday, love."

I gasped, sitting up and squealing into the phone.

"Oh my god! I can't believe it! We're going to see each other! For real!" I exclaimed.

"For real." He laughed.

"Oh my fucking god...well, I don't know how you expect me to sleep or work until then." I smiled widely, settling back into bed.

"I can't wait. Can't wait to see you again." He bit his lip.

I raised a brow, "Can't wait to see what part of me?"

He laughed, "Hmm, I'll leave that to your imagination. But I'd definitely call your work and tell them you won't be able to come in the whole week because your legs will be too sore."

I spluttered a laugh and got myself flustered.

God, it had been so long since we touched...

"I can't wait to fuck you again." He said lowly.

I widened my eyes, "Are Racheal and Harry not there?" I hissed.

He shook his head, "Racheal's not here and Harry's working in his room."

I shifted onto my side to face him completely.

"Okay then...if you want to fuck me so bad...tell me what you'll do to me when you get here."

***

It was the next night. Friday. Finally. Tom had said he wouldn't be able to call tonight because he was on set all day. I was fine with that, though. Last night was an extremely heated Facetime call.

I went into work and sat at my desk, staring at a blank word document just wishing words would start typing themselves onto the page. My mind was somewhere else. It was with Tom. I didn't sleep much last night as it was an eventful night so I was absolutely knackered by the time I got home from work.

I managed to stay awake long enough to make myself some mac and cheese. I managed one episode of friends, I ate my dinner and I snuggled on my couch, stripping my jeans and top off to leave me comfortably in my underwear with blankets draped over me. I didn't particularly mean to fall asleep at 7pm on a Friday night. It just happened.

Toms POV

"Good luck, mate. Have fun." Harrison laughed cheekily on the phone as I entered y/n's flat building.

"Div. Bye." I chuckled, ending the call.

I hyped myself all the way up to y/n's flat. I looked at myself in my phone camera to check how I looked. I couldn't hear anything from inside but I knew she was in. The bouquet of flowers in my hand kept crinkling loudly and I tried to shut them up seeing as it was midnight.

I could feel some jet lag already hitting me but the nerves and excitement completely cancelled it out.

I was surprising her. Filming finished a few days ago, not next week. I had everything planned out. And she had no idea.

I took a few deep breaths and sat my suitcase and bag down. I lifted a hand to her door and hesitantly knocked. Adrenaline rushed through me.

She was going to open the door and we'd have the best moment, then we'd kiss and then...

She wasn't answering the door. Her car was outside and it was midnight so she should be in.

I gritted my teeth anxiously and knocked again.

Still nothing.

I looked around in slight panic, not knowing what to do. But then I tried her door handle. It opened.

I'll have to tell her to lock it next time, I reminded myself before opening the door slowly. The flat was quiet, only the sound of traffic coming in from the open windows filled the room. I wheeled my suitcase and bag in quietly then shut the door behind me equally so.

I walked further into the flat and that's when I finally saw her. And why I finally saw why she wasn't answering the door.

y/n was curled up on the couch, blankets sprawled across her basically naked body and the couch. Her hair lay messy on top of her head and her mouth hung open slightly as she slept.

My heart filled with love and joy as I watched her. 5 months since I had seen her and she was like this. In her most perfect form. Natural and messy and cute but also hot because the underwear she was wearing and the fact I hadn't seen her body in nearly half a year made me nearly get a full hard on.

I walked closer to her, placing the bouquet of flowers next to her abandoned bowl of mac and cheese. I caught a glimpse of the TV.

Are you still watching?

I smiled and turned back to her, kneeling to come face to face with her. I could smell her signature perfume and it made my heart swoon so massively.

I smiled uncontrollably as I reached my hand to her cheek, brushing my fingers over her skin. I missed her skin on mine. I brushed some of her hair behind her ear and then cupped her cheek softly, rubbing my thumb back and forth to gently awaken her.

y/n POV

I felt a hand on my face, a thumb delicately brushing my cheek. It felt familiar and suddenly I could smell something that made my heart ache. Whatever it was smelled like Tom. Like his natural scent mixed with his usual aftershave.

"y/n..."

I heard my name being whispered. I hummed and nuzzled into the pillow more, enjoying whatever dream about Tom I was having. His hand was warm on my face and it was like it was really there.

"y/n, darling..."

Mmm, the nickname. I missed his voice.

"Love...you awake?"

I furrowed my brows. What? Tom didn't say that in my dream. I felt myself being brought back into consciousness gradually and the heat and weight of a hand on my face was very much there, along with the prominent smell and the literal presence of someone.

I slowly opened my eyes, blurry at first but then everything came into view.

Tom.

He was kneeling in front of the couch, his hand still stroking my cheeks, his face in a soft but wide smile, his skin tanned and glowing but the bags under his eyes were visible.

"T-Tom?" I stuttered in a whisper.

Was I dreaming? Was I hallucinating? I mean, I had been thinking about him a lot and I was exhausted so it made sense.

"Hey, darling," He chuckled softly.

"I- what the- are you- what?"

My eyes were heavy, my voice was quiet, in fear of it breaking and I was so incredibly confused.

"Surprise." He chuckled, tucking a hair behind my ear.

I blinked a few times to clear my vision and I saw a tear run down his cheek.

He was here.

"Tom," I whispered, grabbing him and pulling him into me, my arms wrapping around his neck.

He held me just as tightly around my waist. His skin was on mine. He was here. He was actually here. We were actually touching.

He slowly pulled me off the couch and onto the floor with him, welcoming me onto his lap. I wrapped my legs around him and nuzzled my face into his neck. I fisted his light jacket, trying to get a hold of every part of him.

Suddenly it was as if every emotion I felt in the past five months came flooding to the surface. Sadness, hopelessness, excitement, happiness, love. His hands wrapped completely around my waist, holding me flush to his chest. I felt tears tickle down my face but I didn't care.

His face was nuzzled into my neck, too. He moved a hand up to cradle the back of my head when he realised I was crying. I was actually sobbing. Audibly. But so was he now.

We both pulled away at the same time then immediately crashed our lips together. A new wave of tears pooled into my eyes. He tasted good. He tasted like him. Minty and perfect. I ran my fingers up and into his hair. God I missed his hair.

Our tongues pushed into each others and we both moaned slightly, revelling in the feeling of one another again.

He was here.

We pulled away breathlessly and stared into each other's eyes. I cupped his face and he did mine. I wiped the tears from his face, he wiped the tears from mine.

"I missed you so much." I croaked.

"I missed you too, darling."

"Please just promise me you'll never do that again. I can't live without you for that long again. I can't." I half-joked.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here with you." He rested his forehead against mine.

"I'm home." He whispered.

I sobbed happy cries at his words. He suddenly pulled away and brought his phone out, shakily going onto Spotify and playing 'Home' by Caite Turner, turning it all the way up.

"Dance with me." He whispered.

I stood off of him and he joined me. He held my hand and twirled me around, inspecting my body.

"I feel so naked," I laughed.

He shed his jacket off and then he pulled his t-shirt over his head. I widened my eyes at him. He had gotten fitter over filming, along with a new tan.

"That's better." I sniffled with a smile.

He brought me into him and held me by my waist with one hand then my hand in his other. I had my free hand on his cheek. I traced up and onto his sun freckles, down his crooked nose and then back to his left eyebrow and down to his jaw then back into his hair.

He leaned his head down and encased my lips in his. It was soft and breathless. One of those kisses you wish you had a picture of to capture the moment. I missed kissing him. Our lips slotted together perfectly like they were made for each other.

He slowly pulled away and we rested our heads against each other's, still swaying in time to the music.

"You're my home, y/n." He whispered.

I closed my eyes, feeling a few tears escape my eyes.

"Wherever you are is home to me. I can't be without you again." He spoke quietly and shakily, on the verge of another sob.

"I feel the same. I'm going everywhere with you now."

He chuckled lightly and we pulled back. He brushed my hair behind my ear and looked into my eyes with his gorgeous brown ones. I cupped his face and me sighed into my touch.

"I love you." He stated quietly.

"I love you." I replied.

"You're the one, y/n. No questions. I can't fucking live without you."

I felt my chin quiver at his words. I didn't know how to even respond verbally.

I pulled him down to my lips, my tongue slipping into his mouth almost immediately. He hummed and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You're it, Tom," I whispered between kisses.

He pulled away slightly, our lips just ghosting over one another's.

"You're my home."

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smuts #Smut #tom holland fluff #fluff #spiderman #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #oneshot

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occult-castiel · 3 years

Text

The Same Page

This is my @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @eclypseaf!!! The request was open, but bonus points for Miracle being present. So I wrote some post empty rescue fic!

This one honestly gave me a really hard time and I have no idea why. I hope you like it and have has an awesome christmas!

[Ao3 Link]

The portal spits them out in the dungeon.

Dean stumbles out first, a half step ahead of Cas. Human, malleable, and very much alive with one of the little dude's arms draped over Dean's shoulder.

Cas stumbles forward. Dean shoots an arm out in front of him, places a hand firmly against his chest. He maneuvers his other arms under his trenchcoat, grips his side firm.

His skins almost cool to the touch — much too cold to be safe. Not for a human, especially a brand new one.

And what if he's sick? Or gets sick and can't get better? Without his grace, there's a whole new set of worries. A bad flu that gets worse until he's gone, a hunt going wrong, fucking cancer. Heart disease kills pretty much everyone, doesn't it?

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the gentle thud of Cas' heart against his palm.

The last eight months haven't been easy. Not between the alcohol Sam eventually cut him off from, and the hunts getting sparse, and Jack being terrifying and gone until he wasn't.

Cas lulls his head to the side. His inky heart sticks to his forehead, and his blueberry-sweet eyes are unfocused but still manage to catch Dean's.

It's achingly familiar, and he smiles easy. "Hey there, sunshine."

Cas pinches his brows together as his head swims to stay upright. He slurs through some half-baked, nonsense question about coral reef bleaching, and Dean's so relieved he laughs.

Cas smiles at the sound, dazed and feather-light, but the joy is unmistakable.

It's the best thing Dean's ever seen. Fuck, he missed him. Missed him so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Cas winces — what little help he was giving Dean in holding him up falls. He makes up the difference quick. Weak fingers curl around Dean's wrist.

"Sorry —"

"S'okay. Gonna —" he swallows hard. Tries to shove away the distinct pin-prick in his tear ducts that always means he needs to man the hell up. "Gonna get you to a bed, okay?"

Cas grunts, a pitiful noise that's mostly air and entirely feeble. "Tired."

"Rest then. It ain't far. I gotcha, buddy."

When he nods, his hair brushes Dean's neck.

It's not well thought out. The lack of work and overload of carbs haven't done Dean's muscles any favors. His joints creak and protest every step, but his room isn't far, and he'd be damned before he let's Cas feel like he has to do anything alone this time.

Miracle hops off the bed the moment the door opens.

Dean lays Cas on top of the bunched up blanket. Once he's down, Dean slowly works the trencoast and suit jacket off, his hands careful as they trail across the thin cotton of his shirt.

Cas shivers, and Dean wrestles to tug the blanket out from under him, Miracle nuzzling the side of his leg the whole time.

She's probably hungry. Or just wants attention. He hasn't exactly been available the last couple weeks, too busy with his nose in piles of research. But it all payed off.

Cas grimaces in his sleep, and it twists the cords in Dean's chest. He reaches his hand out and ghosts his fingers across the sweat-stained hair stuck to his skin, gently pushing it to the side.

He'd said it once, not more than a month ago, in the darkness of his room, Miracle tucked as close as he could get her.

He said he loved me, and I — I didn't say it back. But I do. God I do.

Dean trails his hand from his forehead to the flushed pillow of his cheeks. The other knuckles roughly at his eyes and comes back wet.

He has no god damn idea what he wouldve done without Miracle to talk to. Cause he could never get it out to Sam. Not those last moments. Not what Cas really means to him. Always too close to an edge of something larger than any apocalypse they've ever dealt with.

He traces down low enough to brush across Cas' wrist, the pained look still on his face.

Dean swallows, his heart hammers hard in his throat. Timid even though the guy is unconscious, Dean grabs his hand.

His mind blanks. Turns to complete static — a jumble of half-formed thoughts about every reason he ever told himself not to.

He's an angel. The worlds ending. Always ending. He doesn't feel that way. Can't, the equipment for it's not there. It's why he leaves, isn't it? And what the fuck could ever hope to start when it's all always falling apart? When they could fall apart.

Everyone leaves.

A flash of cold prickles down his back, and he tries to takes a deep breath. It goes down ragged. There was something he read once, about picking out a sense.

Cas' breath, slow and steady. The clink of Mircale's claws on the floor. A muted buzz from the florescent lights in the hall.

He breaths again, a little easier. His fingers curls into Cas' palm, and his finger twitch against Dean in response. The dent in his brows relax, his jaw goes slack.

"S'okay Cas." He squeezes. "Just... be okay."

When his phone rings, dumped and forgotten on the other side of the room, he isn't quite sure how to let go. Like the ligaments in his hand have cemented in place, forgotten the muscle memory to make the movements happen.

When the second call comes through, Cas mumbles something. Dean's shoulder slack, and he pulls his hands back, clammy and with a slight tremor.

It's Sam. There's a small tug of guilt — he should've called him the moment he put Cas down. He knows he would've been worried sick if Sam was the one that had to go.

Sam's relieved too, promises to buy stuff for dinner on his way back from where Dean went in the Empty about fifty miles out. And he must hear something in his voice, because he stresses to go watch a movie or something and let Cas sleep it off.

Of course he's right. They knew Cas would be out cold. But leaving the room is still hard, and he lingers in the doorway until he gets a good look at Miracle's mess of tangled fur.

He hasn't brushed her hair, since that's practically what the fur is, in weeks.

"C'mon girl."

He grabs the brush from the bedside table, casts on last look at Cas, and takes Miracle to the TV room.

She hops on the couch next to him, tail thumping with excitement.

"You wanna get pretty to meet Cas later?"

She nuzzles his hand, sticks her nose against the brush, and a little bit of the stress from today lightens up.

He flips on some netflix show about baking food, and talks to Miracle as he starts in on her snout.

It's ritualistic to touch on whatevers going on with her, at this point.

As her fur smooths, he tells her about the Empty. Its piss-poor lighting, the mind boggling way directions work, how it has this awful burnt-licorice and gasoline stench clung to the nothingness of its everything.

It kinda makes his head hurt.

Almost two full episodes in, he has all her fur neat and tidy, and his little monologue has circled back to Cas. She'd know a lot about him if she could talk.

"It's hard to believe he's really back. And — and maybe it'll be good. We could, I dunno, get you a yard?" He nods, smiles. "Yeah, I bet your spoiled ass would like that. The bunker ain't a place for pets."

Miracle leaps from the couch, and someone clears their throat from the door.

Cas stands in the doorway, hunched in on himself. Dark strands of hair twist up in random directions, and the casual clothes Dean left him fit snugly.

He looks... comfortable. Like he slipped into humanity ages ago, not this afternoon.

"Cas."

He tilts his lips up, tight and sheepish. "I see you have a dog now."

"Yeah. Miracle. She uh — she helped me." He motions vaguely to his head. "Might not be batting a hundred up here if not for her."

Cas glances down at her, and the tense smile softens. "I'm very grateful then."

Almost reverent, he scratches the side of her ear.

Dean shakes his head. Blinks. Two things he never thought he'd see side by side mixed with the insanity of the day make none of this seem real.

Deep breath.

"She can — she can be there for you too," Dean says. "If you need it. Dogs are great listeners. Even the Madonna types like this one."

Cas gives a contemplative hum. "They are both blonde."

He puffs a breath of air. It's easy to forget Cas actually knows what he's talking about now, sometimes. Even if he does still miss the point by a mile.

"It was your turn."

Cas raises an eyebrow.

"To, uh, pick a movie." He motions to the seat next to him. "If you want."

Cas runs his bottom lip between his teeth and doesn't look at Dean. Doesn't say anything either. Just nods, walks over, and sinks into the couch.

It's a respectable distance. Close enough Dean would be able to sense him, far enough away they won't touch.

Miracle curls up on the other side of Cas, head flopped on his lap, right next to his balled up hands.

"Is it over?" His voice is small.

Dean doesn't have to ask. "Chuck isn't aproblem anymore." Cas sighs, slinks down bonelessly into the cushions. "We figured it out, took his powers. Jack's fixing up Heaven with it. Says he's gunna do that, find a way to put Amara back together, and then come home."

"Good. I don't think I'm up to fighting standards." He rolls his head to the side. They're close enough Dean can make out each muscle in his neck when he swallows. "You didn't have to save me, Dean. I'd — made peace with that fate."

It's bullshit. It's bullshit and Cas has to know it. He almost tells him a much, but if he can't have that talk now, then he never will.

He licks his lips. It doesn't help the dryness.

"Did you mean it?"

It's a dumb question, but one he needs answered.

Cas doesn't miss a beat. "That and more." The serenity in his words is endearing as it is cutting when he adds, "But we don't have to address it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

It's Dean's turn to melt with relief. "Good — that's good."

Cas winces. "I understand if you'd like some space —"

He starts to stand up, and panic seizes Dean's chest like a vice grip. He grabs his wrist and Cas freezes.

"No! God no. Cas, it — it wasn't supposed to happen like that."

He looks confused, before some amount of understanding smoothes out some of the worried lines in his face. His eyes flick down to Dean's mouth for an instant. "How was it supposed to happen, then?"

"I thought, maybe on a hunt? Or — I don't know. Just... " some place I could say it back.

Its not good enough, saying it without saying it. Cas gave a speech. He saved Dean's life, saved the god damn world. All without knowing.

He shakes his head. Starts again. He had enough practice between thoughts he couldn't shove away and late night pet-therapy. "I thought you knew. Hell, I've been scared everyone knows. And if they did, you did too, right?"

"Subtly isn't always my strongest suit."

He laughs, and it's almost on the wrong side of sane. "Don't I know it."

He can do direct.

Slow enough that Cas has time to pull back, he runs his hand up his arm, cradles it against the back of Cas' neck. He leans across the small distance and kisses him.

It's clumsy and unsure, and Cas places a skittish hand on Dean's side like he's not sure what he's allowed to have even now, but their lips mesh together in a way that feels better than anything he can remember.

When they part, he's not sure either one of them are breathing. And he can't look at Cas, not when he says it. Not yet. So he presses their foreheads together, keeps his eyes fully lidded.

"I don't know how you could think you aren't worth saving. You — you're it for me."

"Dean —"

He shakes his head, and the tips of their noses brush. "I love you more than I know what to do with. You know that right?"

Bewildered, Cas says, "I didn't."

"Yean, well. Now you do."

He scoots back in place, flushed firm against the cushion. Their hands tangle together, and their knees are touching, and it's too much and not enough. But mostly not enough. Dean dares a glance over. Cas is staring at their hands, a pleased smile on his face.

And they're on the same page.

"I think you said something about a yard when I walked in?"

Instead of answering he says, "We should retire. I'm too old for this shit."

"Entirely?"

Dean shrugs. "A hunt here and there wouldn't hurt I guess."

"We'll talk about it later." He reaches over him, grabs the remote. "I think you said it was my turn?"

Dean grins, full and toothy. "Yeah, just no more romcoms, dude. I can only take so many."

Cas nods, curt and serious. "Of course."

He does anyway, and it's the best shitty movie Dean's ever seen.

#destiel secret santa #sorry this is being posted so late in the day!!!#my internets broken at the moment so it was very difficult to get it up #and i also couldnt run it through any spelling/grammer checkers #hopefully theres nothing atrociously wrong with it #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Office Neighbors - Part Six

a/n: here we are, and it certainly won’t be over after this! didn’t have time to proof read sorry, hope you enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!)

warnings: fluff, smut, minor character death

words: 15K

masterpost

The semester was in full swing, and you were counting down the days until Thanksgiving break. It was time you could dedicate to grading, and your brother always cooked this gourmet meal for your family, so all in all, you were just ready to for the little time away. You just needed to get through another two weeks.

It was also time off for Harry. Andy always spent his Thanksgiving break with Paige since Harry got him for Christmas in London. Typically, you ate at Harry’s house for dinner twice a week, and then when Andy was at Paige’s for a weekend, Harry would either sleep at your place, or you would sleep at his. Sometimes you would go to the library together to work. He really helped you find a work-life balance. Now, Harry usually went to Lisa’s for Thanksgiving, but he wasn’t sure if those plans were set to change. He was sort of hoping to go to Boston with you, but he didn’t want to invite himself.

“I think you should just ask her.” Andy says as he helps Harry set the table.

“I don’t want to impose, it’s rude.”

“But you’re her boyfriend, she should want you to spend Thanksgiving with her.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“You say that all the time.” He rolls his eyes.

“It is! It’s not just her and I having dinner, I’d be meeting her whole family, that’s a big deal.”

“Why?”

“Because…well…it’s one thing for her to like me, but I’d want her family to like me too.”

“Dad, literally who has ever met you ever likes you. Even Noah’s parents like you.”

“Thanks.” Harry chuckles. The doorbell rings and he smiles. “Go open that for her, will you?”

Andy races over to the door, and opens it for you.

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles.

“Hi, Andy, how was school?” You smile as you come in and kick your boots off. “Getting cold out there.” You shiver as you take your jacket off.

“School was good.” He shrugs. “My health class just started and it’s really awkward.”

“Oh, I bet.” You walk in with him and the dessert your brought. “I brought cookies, couldn’t help myself.” You say to Harry, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you.” He smiles and takes it to put on the counter. “We’re having chili tonight, thought it would be nice for a cold evening.”

“Definitely, it smells amazing.”

Everyone makes a bowl, and adds what they want. After chatting about something funny one of Harry’s students says, Andy jumps into the conversation.

“Man, I cannot wait for Thanksgiving break. I know it’s only a few days, but I can’t wait.”

Harry slowly turns his head to look at his son, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Yeah? You go to your mom’s right?” You say.

“Mhm, my grandparents and aunt come, and so does Noah’s family. It’s actually pretty fun. My mum and aunt cook everything together. What do you usually do for Thanksgiving, Y/N?”

“Well, when I was growing up we always hosted at my parent’s house, but my brother tends to host now since he’s the one that does that cooking.”

“He’s a chef, right?”

“A sous chef, but yeah.” You smile. “Although, he doesn’t cook everything. I tend to make the more Jewish dishes, and then he makes the more traditional Thanksgiving things.”

“Noah’s mum makes a brisket, do you guys have that too?”

“Mhm! My brother makes it, although I don’t eat it anymore.” You shrug and take another bite of the chili.

“Dad goes to Auntie Lisa’s.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah…”

“That must be so much fun! Her husband is such a good cook. At the last game night there he made this spinach puff things, and I think I ate the whole tray.” You laugh.

“It’s usually a good time, yeah.”

“I’m surprised you don’t do Thanksgiving at Paige’s.”

“Nah, we tend to keep holidays separate. Her family doesn’t really understand the co-parenting.”

“Gram and Gramp are kind of snooty.” Andy says. “I love them, but I usually cap the convo at five minutes, and then I find an excuse to walk away.”

You burst out laughing and so does Harry, and Andy ends up laughing too. After dinner, and the cookies, Andy goes off to start his homework, which leaves you and Harry to clean up in the kitchen.

“He’s a lot like you, you know? He’s very smooth.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bringing up what we all do for Thanksgiving, almost seemed like he was hinting at something.” You smirk. “It’s cute you talk to him about me, honestly.”

“What…I wasn’t-“

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to invite you?”

“I…well, it’s a couple of weeks away and you haven’t mentioned it, so I just figured you weren’t ready for me to meet your family.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“I was going to run it by you tomorrow…I took me a minute to work up the courage to tell my family I was going to invite you, I’m sorry.”

“No! It’s okay, so, you want me to come?”

“I do, would you?”

“Yes.” He puts his hands on your hips and kisses you. “I’d love to.”

“Great!” You wrap your arms around his neck. “I was thinking we could drive down Thursday, and then spend the night at a hotel in the city, and then Friday we could, like, do a ton of touristy Boston things before driving back up.”

“That sounds amazing. Um, let me pay for the hotel though.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff.

“Come on, it’s gonna be really expensive because of the holiday.”

“Julian, Phil’s partner, manages a hotel in the city, he said he could cut me a deal. It’s really no problem.”

“Oh…well, alright then.” He smiles. “I’m excited.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think they’ll like me?”

“I think so, yeah, but I have to warn you…when I first told you about them they had a lot of concern that I was getting involved with someone who has a kid, so they may ask a lot of personal questions. I told them not to, but they tend not to listen to me.”

“Guess it sort of comes with the territory. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You kiss goodbye before you leave, and Harry nearly squeals. He goes down to Andy’s room.

“Guess who got invited to Thanksgiving?”

“Are you serious?!” Andy stands up and gives Harry a high five. “That’s great! You should bake a pumpkin pie, you make the best pumpkin pie.”

“I do, don’t I?” He smirks. “I’ll ask her what I can bring. We’re gonna be going over night together, wow.”

“Is it that big of a deal? You have sleepovers all the time.”

“Andy…”

“I’m not stupid, Dad, she leaves…girly things here.”

“Okay, so we have sleepovers a lot, but going away with someone overnight is, like, next level.”

“You went camping together before you were even together, and then you went to that conference.”

“We didn’t share a room at the conference. It’s…it’s just different, okay? A good different. It’s gonna be great.”

“How come she doesn’t stay over when I’m here?”

“We haven’t really been together long enough for that. I don’t think she really feels comfortable just yet.”

“Why? You’re just sleeping.”

“Right…”

Andy gives Harry a weird look, and then his eyes widen.

“Oh, Jesus, Dad, don’t be gross!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You’re so annoying, get out!”

Harry puts his hands up in defense and walks away. He really didn’t mean anything by his response, but Andy was smart, and sex was still an awkward topic. He wouldn’t even watch a movie with Harry now if there was a kissing scene in it. Things were okay with Brandon, and that was all Harry cared about. He was sort of hoping health class would help.

Andy had a half day at school on Wednesday, so Harry had to pick him up and bring him back to the university. When he was picking him up he noticed him saying goodbye to Brandon. They were hugging…for a while.

“See you Monday, have fun at your mom’s.” Brandon smiles as he lets go of Andy.

“Thanks, have a good time in Connecticut.”

“Text me if you need me…I know it’s a lot for you over there for so long.”

“I will, I’ll probably need to call you Thursday night.”

“Works for me, it’ll give me an excuse to get away from cousins. I really don’t feel like staying up to play Barbie’s with them.” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re the best.” He looks over and sees Harry’s car. “My dad’s here…bye.”

“Bye.”

They hug one more time and then Andy walks over to Harry’s car, getting in the back seat.

“Hey, how was the half day.”

“Good.” Andy shrugs. “We just ate food and watched a movie.”

“Are you still hungry? I brought some extra snacks to my office this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry. Did you bring anything good?”

“Cheese sticks and grapes.”

“Guess that’s fine.”

“You’re gonna eat a lot of junk this weekend, couldn’t letcha eat a bad snack with me before Mum comes to get you.”

When Harry gets back to his office with Andy, he sees you laughing with Andre. Now, Harry knew he had nothing to worry about with Andre, but he was definitely curious to see what was so funny.

“Hi, Y/N!” Andy says, hugging you.

“Oh! Hi, Andy.” You smile and hug him back.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks coolly.

“Oh, Y/N was just pointing out how students just skip class all week to beat the traffic, but we don’t have that luxury.”

“I mean, I know all classes after three are cancelled, so we can sort of leave early, but come on. At least let me know you’re not gonna be there.” You say. “Whatever, just need to teach one more class.”

“Can I go?” Andy asks.

“Andy…Y/N’s teaching a class about rhetoric, it’s a little high level for you.”

“I don’t have any homework or anything to do, and I don’t feel like just sitting around.”

“He can come if he wants.” You shrug. “Gotta go now though.”

“Okay!” Andy runs into Harry’s office to grab his snack and then joins you.

“He really likes her, huh?” Andre says to Harry.

“Yeah, he does.”

What you were talking about in class was way over Andy’s head, but what he did understand was when you put an episode of The Office. You wanted to show different persuasion tactics used while making a sale, and you thought it would be relatable for the students. Andy thought you were the coolest person in the world for showing it.

“Alright, I hope you all have a great few days off, I’ll see you Monday.” You say at the end of class. Andy gets up from the back of the class and comes towards you. “So, what did you think?”

“I liked the part where you put on The Office.” He giggles.

“I thought so.”

“I didn’t understand a word you said, but I sort of got some of it when you put the show on. It’s sort of cool how, like, a sow you could watch just for fun could have a deeper meaning.”

“It’s very cool.” You smile and walk with him back down to Harry’s office.

You stop short when you see Paige sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Mum?”

“Hi, honey! I came to surprise you. I had a half day today too.” She smiles and hugs him. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Dad already helped me put your things in my car, so we’re good to go.”

“Oh…alright.” Andy gives Harry a hug goodbye. “Have in Boston.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Harry stands up and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Boston?” Paige raises an eyebrow with a smile.

“He’s coming home with me.” You say.

“That’s great! Well, safe travels.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Andy hugs you and out the door they go.

“Did you know she was coming here to get him?”

“No, she texted me, like, two seconds after you went to class, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”

“You know, she mentioned a while back that she’d like to get together with you sometime…I think it might be a good idea for you to get to know her better.”

“Harry, no offense, but I don’t need to be best friends with your ex.”

“I’m not asking you to be, but you’re in Andy’s life, she wants to get to know you better.”

“Just a one on one thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll think about it.” You say and leave his office. He follows you into yours and you sigh.

“Do you have a problem with Paige?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t feel super comfortable getting together with her so she can grill me.”

“That’s not why she wants to meet up with you.”

“So, it wouldn’t be a couple of hours of her asking me a bunch of questions?”

“Well, you’d ask her questions too. I did the same with Noah, and I get along great with him.”

“I get along just fine with her.”

“You’ve been around her, like, four times.”

“And it’s been great every time, why rock the boat?” You shrug.

“Y/N…she’s the mother of my kid, she’s not going anywhere, and it would mean a lot to me if you got to know her better, alright?”

“Alright…maybe once the semester is over she and I could get together for lunch or something.”

He smiles at you and kisses your cheek.

“You’re the best.”

“Someone has to be.” You sigh and it makes him laugh. “Did you want to just stay at my place tonight so we can leave from there tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good. What time do you want me over?”

“Seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

Harry: what should I pack for clothes, how fancy is dinner?

You: I’ll just be in jeans a blouse, wear what makes you comfortable

You thought it was sweet that Harry was a little nervous to meet your family. They weren’t scary people, but you were the baby, and you knew that came with a lot of questions. Harry comes over a little after seven in some joggers and a long sleeve shirt, and a couple of bags.

“Mm, smells good in here.” He says, kissing your cheek.

“I just finished baking what I need to bring.”

“I made a pumpkin pie to bring, could I stick it in the fridge?”

“That’s so sweet! Of course, go right ahead.”

You take his bags and bring them into your disaster of a room. You hadn’t been very good at putting your laundry away once it was folded, nor were you good about getting your dirty laundry in the hamper. You sigh and start running around to tidy it up.

“I thought you did chores once a week?” Harry chuckles as he stands in the doorway.

“I…haven’t been making much time for it with all the work I need to do. And then I come in here and it’s just too overwhelming. Everywhere else is fine though.”

“You know, having a messy room can cause just as much anxiety before you go to bed because you get reminded of the stress-“

“Har?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t need a lecture from you on my messy bedroom, okay?”

“Wasn’t giving you one.” He raises his hands in defense. “Don’t feel like you need to clean it just because I’m here either.”

“No, I don’t wanna come back to a mess, just…go watch TV until I’m done in here, it’s mostly just laundry.”

“I can help if you want.” You make a face at him. “What? I could throw a load in for you, or help you put things away.”

“You can help by just giving me a minute. I’ve been trying to reconfigure things, I may buy a larger dresser soon.”

“Why? You could just go through get rid of what you don’t need. Perfect time of year to do it.”

“I did that already…” You bite your bottom lip. “I was thinking…well…you come over a lot, and I’ve been trying to clean out a couple of drawers for you so you could just leave some weekend clothes here if you wanted.”

“R-really?” He looks at you like a wide eyed puppy.

“Yeah, we’ve been together five months, I think it makes sense to give you a drawer, I even made room in my bathroom for you, come look.” You tug him into the bathroom “I put up this rack so you could leave some shaving stuff or whatever you usually bring. If you’re comfortable with it.”

“You won’t mind my stuff crowding you?”

“No, if anything it’ll be like you’re here when you’re not here.” You say quietly and look at him. “I leave things at your place, I want you to leave things here.”

Harry tilts your chin up to look at him and he kisses you. He never had a relationship like this before. Well, he sort of did this with Paige, but it was different. He thought it was so sweet that you wanted these pieces of him around, and he knows he should do the same for you.

“Next time you’re at my place, there will be a drawer and some closet space for you.” He smiles. “I’ll go watch some TV while you do your thing.”

“Thanks.”

Around forty-five minutes later you plop down onto the couch next to Harry, and sigh. He throws an arm around you and kisses your temple.

“What are you watching?”

“SNL’s Thanksgiving clip show.”

“Oh fun!”

“What time do we need to be on the road tomorrow?”

“Not terribly early. Today’s the big travel day, I didn’t hit any traffic last year. We can leave around eleven.”

“Amazing. I don’t mind getting up early, but it’s nice to not have to sleep in on our days off.”

“I agree.”

You both shift so you can lay on top of him. He rubs your back, and you both giggle over the funny sketches. You pull a blanket over the two of you, and just get really cozy.

“I’m excited to be going overnight with you in the city. Where are we going Friday?”

“I thought we could take the T to Faneuil Hall and do some shopping, and then we could go to the North End for food.”

“Sounds good to me. Is there anything specific I need to know about your family before I meet them?”

“Not really…my parents can be sort of abrasive, but they mean well. Phil and Julian are pretty chill.”

“How long have they been together for?”

“God, like…six years I think.”

“That’s nice.”

“They’re a great couple. I think everyone will like you, Harry, nothing to worry about.” You lean up and kiss his forehead.

He cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to kiss your lips. You skootch up his body, and his hands slide down to your ass. You bite down on his bottom lip briefly before pulling away.

“Can we be lame and just go get really cozy in bed?” You say.

“Not lame at all, I’m pretty tired from all the grading I did this afternoon.”

You get off him and you both do your nightly routines before getting into bed.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is your bed so warm already?”

“Oh! I turned my heated blanket on before I came out to watch TV with you. Nice and toasty, right?”

“Very.” He chuckles. “Now turn over so I can have that booty.”

“Harry.” You laugh, but do as he says, and adjust right into him. His leg goes right over your hip like always, and he holds you nice and close.

“I’m so glad you like sleeping like this, I don’t know what I’d do.” He chuckles into the back of your head.

“I know, could you imagine if I wasn’t to feel crushed while I’m sleeping?”

“Y/N.” He laughs.

“For real, I sleep so well with you.”

“Me too.” He nuzzles in closer. “Maybe when I get back from London you could try sleeping over on school nights.” You turn over to face him immediately.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah…wouldn’t be so weird, would it?”

“How would Andy feel about it?”

“He asks all the time why you don’t just spend the night when you have dinner with us. We could try it out and see how it goes.”

“With you in London for a few weeks, what does he do for school?”

“Oh, Paige just drives him back and forth.”

“That’s not annoying?”

“She really doesn’t mind it, it’s just extra time to spend together. It’s only two weeks for him to deal with it.”

“I could…help with rides if need be…or if he misses the house at all I could always stay over there with him.”

“Oh, so you’ll have sleepover with him without me?”

“I’m just saying, I can be helpful.”

“I appreciate that.” He kisses you. “So, will you try sleeping over some night when I get back?”

“Yeah, as long as he’s okay with it, we can give it a try. I wouldn’t mind carpooling.”

You kiss again, and you turn back over so he can spoon you. Five months together, and things were going so well.

The next morning your alarm goes off at 8:30. You turn it off quickly, and when you try to get up Harry clings to you tighter.

“Harry.” You giggle. “I need to shower.”

“But you’re so cozy.” He groans.

“You know how long it takes me to blow dry and curl my hair, please let me get up.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “But I’m going in there with you.”

“Oh, you are?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Mhm, gonna fuck you in there.” He grins at you. “If you want.”

“Hmmm.” You pretend to mull it over, but you grin back at him and nod.

Now, typically, you wouldn’t just let a guy stick it in, and trust his pullout game, but condoms in the shower never felt good, so you and Harry may have agreed that shower sex was the one time he didn’t need a condom. The first time you did it like this, not too long ago, you nearly cried from how good it felt it really feel him inside you.

“Oh, fuck, right there, Harry!” You moan out as he thrusts into you from behind, his skin slapping against yours. You reach back to squeeze at his arm as you come undone, and he pulls out shortly after to come on your ass. You both sigh with relief.

“Feel like horny teenager with you sometimes.” He chuckles as he starts to lather up his body.

“Me too.” You start washing your hair.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I know you said you got off the pill because it didn’t make you feel good, but…are there other birth controls out there that don’t fuck with you?”

“Yeah, they’re called condoms.” You say as you put some conditioner in.

“Y/N.” He rolls his eyes and steps into the water once you’re done rinsing your hair.

“I mean…I know there’s an IUD that doesn’t mess with your hormones, but the procedure is a tad invasive, and it probably wouldn’t even be in there that long.”

“Why’s that?” He scrubs his own head so he doesn’t see your face flush.

“I just mean, like, I don’t know, what’s wrong with what we’re doing?”

“Nothing…I guess selfishly it would be nice to do it like this all the time, and not have to worry.” He looks at you. “You done?” He asks as he reaches to turn the water off.

“Yeah.” You pull the curtain and get toweled up, and hand him his. “I get where you’re coming from with that…I just…selfishly I don’t wanna compromise on it. If you’re worried about pulling out, then we don’t need to fuck in the shower like this. We can just go back to what we were before.”

“But I like fucking you in the shower like this.” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips. “You won’t even think about going on something?”

“I’m sorry, Harry…I don’t want to.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “I get it, I suppose. Condoms it is.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to do your hair.

When you finish with your hair, you don’t see Harry in your bedroom. You go into the kitchen and see him fully dressed, getting some peanut butter on toast.

“Here, a light breakfast.” He smiles.

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, and take a bite of the toast. “You look handsome.” You smile at him and he smiles back.

“I’m gonna go call Andy while you’re finishing up. Do you mind if I use your office?”

“Not at all! Go right ahead.”

You finish up the toast and then go back into your room to finish getting ready. You put on a pair of black jeans, and a blue long sleeve blouse, and then go into the bathroom to put a little makeup on.

“Y/N?” Harry pops his head into the bathroom.

“Yeah?” You giggle.

“Andy wants to wish you a happy Thanksgiving.”

“Oh!” You reach out for the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi, Andy, happy turkey day.” You smile.

“You too! You and Dad are going to Boston for a couple of days, huh?”

“That’s right! Want us to bring you back anything special?”

“That depends…where are you going?”

“We’re going to be where a ton of Italian restaurants are, which means Italian bakeries. Would you like a fresh cannoli brought back to you?”

“I think I’d like you forever if you did that.” He laughs and so do you.

“Then I think that can be arranged.”

“Okay! Sorry, Mum wants to talk to Dad…”

“Oh! That’s fine, it was nice talking to you.” You hand the phone back to Harry. He was smiling ear to ear.

“Hey, yeah, he is polite isn’t he?” Harry chuckles and steps out of the bathroom. When you come out to the living room he’s sitting on the couch reading.

“All set?”

“Yeah, was just waiting for you. You’re good to go?”

“Mhm, would you carry the food down to the car for me?” You say, putting your jacket on.

“Yup, I’ll grab our bags too.”

“Thank you.” You give him a quick kiss and out the door you go.

You didn’t have an automatic start on your car and you wanted to warm it up a bit. Harry brings everything down to the car, and off you go towards the highway. He keeps a hand on your thigh as his other hand’s fingers drum along to whatever music you’ve put on. You liked that even when you were the one driving he still had a hand on you.

“I can drive us back tomorrow if you’d like.” He speaks up.

“That’s okay, it’s really not that long of a drive. Hour and twenty, max.”

“Takes me two hours to get to Boston…”

“You, my darling, drive like a grandma, that’s why.” You smirk.

“I do not!” He laughs. “I’m careful.”

“You don’t go over seventy…”

“That’s the speed limit! And you know as well as I do the state police up here pull everyone over.”

“You know what’s funny? I got pulled over before I got my NH plates, now I never get pulled over. I do eighty on the highway up here, and that’s perfect.”

“It’s too fast.”

“No, going ninety would be too fast. Just wait until we’re really driving in the city, you’ll be amazed at my swiftness.”

“You mean at your aggressiveness.”

“It’s called being a defensive driver. Maybe when Andy gets older I should be the one to teach him how to drive, or else we’ll have two grannies on our hands.” You throw him a cheeky grin and he just rolls his eyes at you.

“He’s never going driving with you unless I’m there too.”

Harry would never admit it, but he really liked it when you’d drop little hints that you were in this for the long haul. It would be years until Andy would be able to get his permit, and yet, here you are, thinking ahead about it. It was something you did once in a while, even this morning, Harry picked up on it when you mentioned how pointless an IUD would be. It was too soon to talk about kids and stuff, but he knew that was where your head was at, and it made him feel really good.

“You teach him how to park a car, you’re way better at that. I’m such a nervous parker.” You laugh. “One time I had to drive my boss to a conference we were both going to, and I had to park in a garage, and you know how narrow those spots can be. I told him I was nervous at parking, and he covered his eyes so I could park the car. He was such a sweet man, had kids my age at the time.”

“Would you like for me to do that from now on? Cover my eyes so you can park your car?” He chuckles.

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

“Why do you get so nervous?”

“I have my dad to thank for that. He’d watch me back out of the driveway just to make sure I didn’t run over the grass, it was so annoying.”

“Ah, a very dad thing to do. Grass is really important to us, you know? If you’ve got a shitty lawn it reflects poorly on you.” He smirks.

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes. “You both can bond about going to Lowe’s on the weekends and looking at planks of wood.”

Harry bursts out laughing because that is definitely something he’s done before.

“I don’t just look at planks of wood, I also often go and look at the different types of mulch.”

“Do you ever bring a tape measure with you?”

“Keep one in my trunk, actually. Never know when you’ll need to take measurements for something.”

“Jesus.” You laugh and shake your head. “When you become a dad is there like an initiation ceremony where you get a bunch of that stuff?”

“Oh, sure, but it’s top secret. I’ve said too much already.”

You giggle at him. You were happy long car rides were never awkward with Harry. You could joke around, and then also sit in a comfortable silence. Today was going to be a good day.

Phil lived in a really nice condominium in the newly renovated areas of Southie. Harry was impressed that a sous chef could afford such a nice neighborhood.

“It’s kind of sad because this used to be where more of the affordable housing was, and then it got really gentrified. In their spare time, Phil and Julian try to help out and volunteer their time to help the people that got pushed out.”

“Wow, good for them.”

Harry helps carry the food as you key into the building, and lead him towards the elevator. You knock on the door before going in.

“Hello!” You say brightly as you both walk in.

“Hey!” Julian says, giving you a hug and kiss. “Come on in, Phil’s just basting the turkey. Hello.” He smiles at Harry.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” They shake hands, and Julian takes the food from him.

“Oh! A pumpkin pie, just what we needed, thank you.”

“No problem.” Harry smiles. You hook your arm around his waist as you walk further into the home.

“Hey!” Phil says coming over to the two of you. He gives you a hug and shakes Harry’s hand.

“This is Harry.” You say.

“Nice to meet you, man. Heard a lot of good things.” Phil smiles.

“Nice to meet you too. This is a great place.”

“Thanks! Been here for, like, what…three years?” He asks Julian.

“Yup! Almost three and a half. Got for a steal at the time.”

“Are Mum and Dad here?” You ask.

“Yeah, in the living room. Go and get comfortable, everything’s still cooking. They’re watching the parade.”

You nod and lead Harry into the living room.

“Mum, Dad, we’re here.” You say and they both get up to say hello. “Harry, this is my mum, Rebecca, and my dad, Richard.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both.” He shakes both of their hands.

“Finally!” Your mom nearly squeals and throws her arms around Harry, and gives him a nice, wet kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to meet you, Harry. We were starting to think you were made up!”

“Mum…I’ve shown you pictures.”

“You’re awfully good at that photoshop nonsense, could have just been edited.” She scoffs. “You’re very handsome.”

“Um…thank you.” His cheeks were incredibly red.

“Where’s your son today?” Your dad asks and you want to smack him for diving right in.

“Oh, he’s with his mum and her family today. She’s not from the U.K. like I am, so she actually celebrates Thanksgiving, I just observe.” He jokes, but it doesn’t land, so he clears his throat. “It’s just part of our custody agreement, I get him for Christmas.”

Your parents share a look, and then both smile at Harry.

“Your brother put out some munchies until dinner’s ready.” Your mom says. “Come, sit, I know the drive was long.”

“It wasn’t too bad, not much traffic to complain about.” You say as you stick a carrot into some dip. “Can I get you a drink, Har? Phil’s got beer and wine.”

“Just a beer would be great, thank you.”

You smile and go into the kitchen. He almost wishes he followed you because your parents stay looking at him. He was wearing a nice button up, so his tattoos weren’t overly exposed, so it couldn’t be that.

“So, how old is your son?” Your mom asks.

“Eleven, he’ll be twelve in May. His name is Andy.”

“Is it short for Andrew, or is it just Andy?” Your dad asks.

“It’s short for Andrew.” Harry smiled. “Andrew Jacob Styles.”

“What a lovely name.” You mom smiles. “Is he named after anyone?”

“Um, Jacob is a family name on his mum’s side, and Andrew was just a name with both really liked.” He shrugs. “Nothing more to it than that.”

“You’re still close with her, his mum…” Your dad notes.

“Sort of. We do the co-parenting to the best of our ability. Living close by helps with that.”

“I think it’s nice you can get along so well. We have some friends who have divorced, and they can’t stand each other. I feel terrible for the kids, they get caught in the middle, unfortunately.”

“Well, my ex and I were never ma-“

“Here were are.” You say, handing Harry a beer, a glass of red in your other hand. “How’s the parade?” You ask sitting down next to Harry.

“Y/N, you interrupted our conversation.” Your dad says. “Harry was just explaining to us how his co-parenting works.”

“Dad…I don’t think Harry really wants to talk about that right now, okay?”

“It’s alright.” Harry says. “I know it must be a tad odd for your daughter to be dating someone with so much baggage, I get it.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I was young, accidents happen, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” He puts his arm around you and sits a little more comfortably.

“Well, we hope to meet little Andy at some point.” Your mom says. “Maybe this summer we can come up for a little visit, Y/N.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You smile and lean into Harry. “He’s so sweet, and funny. He’s a really talented painter too. He’s decorated some things in my office for me.”

“Wow, that’s a big deal. You wouldn’t even let me help decorate.” Your mom chuckles.

“Because your taste is terrible, Mum, no offense.” You grimace.

“She’s right, Becky.” Your dad laughs.

“Oh, what do you two know?” She stands up. “I’m going to see if Phil needs help.”

You and your dad laugh a little.

“Good, now I can switch it to football. I actually don’t give a fuck about the parade.” Richard says. “Pardon my French.”

“No worries.” Harry says. “I don’t give a fuck either.” He grins and it makes your dad laugh.

Okay, despite the bit of awkwardness at the beginning, this was actually going pretty well. You knew your parents had their reservations with Harry, but they didn’t seem too put off. After an hour or so of watching football, everyone is called to the dining area for dinner. The spread looked incredible, your brother outdid himself. He and Julian sit at the heads of the table, and then you and Harry sit across from your parents.

“Before we dig in, I just want to say how thankful I am that we could all be together today.” Phil says. “This is the first year I didn’t have to work, so we were able to do this at a normal hour like other families. It’s nice having to wait until nearly eight o’clock.” He smiles. “Two is much better. Enjoy!”

Everyone hums in agreement, and take what they want. Phil made plenty of veggies and other meatless options for you and Harry.

“Harry, how long have you been a professor for?” Julian asks once everyone has what they want.

“Um, like, ten years I’d say. I taught while I was getting my master’s, so I count that. Got my PhD a little over four years ago, though.”

“Very cool, and did you know you always wanted to be a teacher or…?”

“Honestly, no.” He chuckles. “But I really liked what I was studying and researching, and I knew I wanted to keep doing that, and so when I was getting my master’s and became a TA, I fell in love with teaching. I don’t think I could do it at a K-12 level, but I really like teaching at a collegiate level.”

“That’s exactly what Y/N always says.” Phil says.

“It’s true! I don’t think I could teach young kids, but I really like the college kids. Especially the upperclassmen, they’re a tad more mature.”

“Harry, how did you end up over here in the states?” Your mom asks.

“Ah, well, I was looking to study abroad. I went to a school in London my freshman year, and I liked it, but I really wanted to branch out, so I ended up in New York for school. I loved it.”

“And…now you live in New Hampshire?” Your dad asks.

“Yeah, so, when I was looking for master’s programs I was looking for schools in that area because, um, my ex’s grandparents lived in the lakes region, and we needed a bit of help. Her parents live in Connecticut, and there weren’t any schools I wanted to go to out there, so I ended up at UNH for that. The drive to Manchester every day wasn’t fun, but it made things easier to have her family closer by. It was a decent compromise. I almost moved to that area full time, but her grandparents passed away, and she had to take their home over, so I ended up at our university for my doctoral program so I could stay close to my son.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I fell in love with area. I got into hiking and some of the other outdoorsy stuff there is to do. It’s home now.”

“And your family, they’re in the U.K.?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, my mum and sister both live in London. Mum’s retired and lives with my sister. She’s married with a couple of kids, so she may as well be a live in nanny.” He chuckles. “I bring Andy home to see them for Christmas, and sometimes they come to visit in the summer.”

“So, do you have dual citizenship or just a work visa?” Julian asks.

“He wouldn’t need that since he married a U.S. citizen.” Your dad says.

“See, I was trying to explain earlier, we never got married.” Harry explains. “Um…so, yeah, I have dual citizenship. I was here on a school visa for a bit, and then I got the work visa, but I knew I was stayed so I went through the citizenship process. It was a real bitch, I have to say.”

The table laughs and agrees. The conversation turns to politics, only briefly, and then goes back to light chatter. Once dessert is out and eaten, everyone is stuffed. You and Harry help clean up, and then your parents leave shortly after. Everyone feels like they can take a deep breath now.

“So you two are staying at Julian’s hotel, yeah?” Phil asks.

“Yup, why?” You raise an eyebrow.

“How about we meet you guys in the city, and we go to that bar we all like?”

“That sounds great! Meet us there around eight?”

“Works for me.”

“That work for you?” You ask Harry.

“Yeah, sounds like fun.” He smiles.

Once you’re checking into the hotel, you head to the elevator, and go up to your room. Harry notes how nice the hotel is, and you agree. Julian was a really good manager, and did well to make sure that the place ran smoothly. You key into the room, and you both plop down on the bed with a big sigh.

“I’m stuffed.” Harry says with a slight chuckle.

“Same here.” You look over to your bag and tug it towards you, rummaging through it and pulling out a small purple bottle. “Um…so…usually we each have two different bathrooms to use when we have sleepovers, or maybe…we don’t tend to use the bathroom in a certain way, but that’ll be different tonight so I brought this.” You show him the small bottle. “So…we can just use the bathroom and not feel embarrassed.”

Harry smirks and takes the small bottle to read it.

“Poo-perize…” He looks at you.

“You just spray it before you go, and it’s like you never went at all.”

“Ah, well, good thinking. I wouldn’t want you knowing that I took a shit.”

“Harry.” You groan and snatch the bottle from him.

“Are you telling me you’ve never shit at my house in the five months we’ve been together?”

“I…have…just not a lot. I don’t know, I’m not good with other people’s bathrooms. I’m just gonna go stick this in there.”

You get up while he shakes his head and laughs at you. You come back out and lay down next to him on the bed.

“I’m gonna tell you something I told Andy when he was about two years old.” He says to you.

“What’s that?”

“Everybody poops.”

“Gah!” You exasperate. “I know that, obviously, I just don’t want you thinking about me doing it…”

“It’s not like my ear’s gonna be pressed up against the door!” He laughs. “Lighten up.” He pulls you to rest your head on his chest and he kisses you on the top of your head.

“Did you have fun earlier? I hope my parents weren’t too invasive.”

“They were fine, I totally understood why they were asking what they were asking. I know it’s odd for someone my age to have a kid in middle school.”

“I just don’t want you to think they were judging. I actually think they really liked you.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’ll be nice for them to come visit in the summer. Maybe we could all go to the cabin.”

“God, they would love that, babe.” You snuggle further into him.

After resting for a while, and using the bathroom, you both head down to meet Phil and Julian at a bar down the street. You all grab a booth and start a tab for drinks.

“So, this is where you all go when you visit?” Harry asks you once the drinks are on the table.

“Sort of, this is where I come with them.”

“Y/N has probably been to every bar in this city.” Phil laughs.

“You’re gonna make me sound like an alcoholic!” You laugh. “When you go to school in the city, you gotta find the good places to go. All trial and error.”

“You also had a really good fake ID.” Julian smirks. “Remember when we took her out for her twenty-first, and the bartender practically scolded her?” He laughs.

“Oh my god, he was so mad at me.” You take a sip of your drink. “There was this one place I had been sneaking into for years, and I wanted my twenty-first birthday party to be there, and I had been pretty friendly with the bartender, right? So I had him my new ID, and he, oh my god, I thought he was gonna flip his shit.”

“He gave you free shots though, so he couldn’t have been too mad.” Phil winks at you and you just shake your head.

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes.

The reason the bartender had not flipped out, thrown you out was because you promised a very a good blow job in the bathroom on his break. You had delivered, and then he gave you free shots all night, and you ended up going home with him to further explore after said blow job, but you weren’t about to expose yourself to Harry like that. You didn’t want him to think you were immature, even if it was something that happened years ago.

“Must be nice to have grown up in a place where the legal drinking age is eighteen.” Julian says to Harry.

“Yeah, it was pretty sweet that last year before going to uni. My friends and I would go to the clubs, get in a bit of trouble.” He chuckles after taking a sip of his drink. “I’m kind of glad I came to America for the rest of school, I think it helped me settle down a bit.”

“I studied abroad for culinary school,” Phil starts, “mostly in France, but when I would go out with my friends it would definitely get wild. It was a culture shock to start the evenings so late! We wouldn’t leave until midnight sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how it is, and we’d stay out until after four in the morning most times.”

“That was the first time I saw hard drugs being used so casually. People just doing lines in the bathroom and stuff. It happens here too, but it was way less taboo over there.”

“Phil, did you ever…?” You ask him.

“God no, I mean, I smoked share of weed, but I never did anything more than that. I was too afraid of being fucked up while chopping something in the kitchen.”

“Did you?” You ask Harry. You were more curious than anything.

“Yeah.” He says casually with a shrug. “Like I said, I’m glad I came here to finish school.”

“Holy shit, what did it feel like?” You gaze up at him. “I’ve never done anything like that, I’ve never even gotten high…”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “It was so long ago, I don’t really remember, honestly. You just sort of feel happy and out of it.”

“Y/N, you never smoked or did an edible or anything?” Phil asks, almost shocked.

“I mean, I’ve been hot boxed before, but that’s it. I just stuck to drinking.” You laugh. “I was too scared, I didn’t know if I would be one of those people that would freak out or have a bad trip or something.” You finish your drink and so does everyone else.

“Does everyone want the same thing? I can go up and get the next round.” Harry offers.

“That’d be great.” Julian says, and you and Phil nod. Harry gives you a quick kiss before getting up to go to the bar. “He’s dreamy, Y/N, I don’t know how you get any work done.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what type of guy I was expecting, but I’d let him leave marks on me too.”

“Phil!” You giggle. “I’m glad you both like him so far. He’s amazing.”

“And things are still good between you and his kid?”

“Yeah! Andy really likes me. I think it helps that he had time to get used to me a little when Harry and I were just friends. Something tells me Harry had mentioned he had a little crush on me to him though because there was this one time Andy texted me from Harry’s phone to ask me to come get ice cream with them.” You giggle again. “It was so cute.”

“Little wing man, that’s sweet.” Phil nods.

“Sometimes I feel bad because you can tell he prefers to be with me and Harry, as opposed to his mum and soon to be step-dad…I don’t really get it.”

“He’s eleven, right?” Julian asks and you nod. “I get it. I was a total momma’s boy, and then when I started middle school, I wanted nothing to do with my mom, and it killed her. We fought all the time, and I found myself wanting to be with my dad more. Not even to talk, just being in his presence, you know? I think it’s puberty. I have a great relationship with my mom now. It’s just a phase.”

“Yeah, plus, it must be weird to have two father figures in your life. One’s telling you what to do, but you also wanna respect your actual father. Must be confusing.”

“Alright.” Harry says as he sits down with the four drinks. “What I miss?”

“Nothing, babe.” You smile and kiss his cheek. “These two were just swooning over you, that’s all.” You grin at your brother and his partner.

“Really? Well, I’m flattered.” Harry jokes.

“I have to know, do students, like, throw themselves at you?” Phil asks.

“Um, not so much anymore, when I was younger they did. A lot of them also know I’m spoken for now, so that helps.”

“It’s so awkward! Some of the senior boys I advise have tried flirting with me in our meetings, and I’m like…you’re kidding right? Keep your shrimp dick to yourself.” You take a large sip of your drink and sway your head to the music in the bar.

“I’d love to know what some kid could possibly even say to you in that setting.” Phil chuckles.

“They think they’re so adult, you know? It’s all in the body language. They adjust themselves, trying to get me to look down, and they’ll bite their bottom lips to be sexy, it’s repulsive really. But my problem is I bite my lip when I feel nervous so then they think it’s working, and then they’re shocked when I’m like actually you deserved a D on this.”

Phil and Julian laugh, but Harry doesn’t really like the sound of anyone flirting with you.

“You know, you can report that if it gets aggressive.” He says.

“Oh, it’s fine. They realize when I don’t give in that it doesn’t work, and they should just put the work in.” You see the concern on his face. “Don’t worry, if it was that aggressive I’d call H.R. right away.” You put your hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze.

“You know what I think we should after this? Go to an actual club. I feel like dancing and working off all that food.” Julian says.

“Ugh, I knew you were going to say that.” Phil groans. “I’m exhausted.”

“Can’t help it.” He shrugs and looks at you. “Y/N?”

“Fuck yeah.” You look up at Harry. “What do you say? You’ve never really seen me dance before.”

“That’s true, I could be up for that, although, I probably won’t do much dancing.”

“Good, I’ll have someone to hang back with while these two pop their asses.” Phil says and it makes everyone laugh.

Phil and Julian order an uber to take you and Harry to one of the lgbtq+ friendly clubs they knew of in a different part of the city. You had been there with them before so you were excited. You were also excited that Harry was being such a good sport.

You get into the club easily since the bouncer knew Phil and Julian well, and you all go up to the bar to get drinks. You decide on something fun and fruity while Harry opts for a gin and tonic. Wannabe by the Spice Girls comes on and Julian yanks you onto the dance floor.

“It’ll be hours before we see them again.” Phil chuckles and takes a sip of drink.

“You never dance?”

“Sometimes I do, but it’s not my favorite. I’m not very coordinated.”

“Neither am I! I look like an idiot whenever I dance.” Harry laughs. “But I suppose that’s half the fun.”

Harry peers into the crowd and smiles when he sees you and Julian shouting the words to the song to each other, and giggling. He watches as the two of you dance together and it makes him smile more.

“You two have been together a long time then?” Harry asks. “If you both took her out for her twenty-first?”

“Yeah! That was around the time we made things official. We met right before I went to Italy to do some more studying, and then when I came back we decided to really be together. He’s amazing, an incredible partner. He’s brilliant, honestly.”

“Are you two married, or…?”

“We’re in a civil union.” Phil shrugs. “We’ve talked openly about it, and neither of us really feel the need to get married, you know? We know we wanna be together, we don’t need a court or a piece of paper to lock it in. We each wear these rings.” Phil holds up his left hand. “See the one on my middle finger? That’s a promise ring he gave to me, and I gave one to him. That’s enough.”

“That’s really sweet.” Harry smiles.

“You have a lot of cool rings.” Phil takes one of Harry’s hands to look them over.

“Thanks! Started collecting them basically when I was nineteen. I’ve always really liked rings and bracelets.”

“And perfectly manicured nails?” Phil raises an eyebrow at him.

“Started doing that in uni. The crowd I hung out with was into black nail polish, I got into it too. It’s actually what helped me snag my ex.” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we were friends for a bit, and one night she got really drunk and she started crying because her nail ripped and she just wanted to take all the polish off and start over, and I told her I had stuff back at my room to do that, so I took her back with me and basically did her nails. I let her sleep in my bed and I slept on the floor, and then the next morning before I could even say anything she kissed me.”

“Oh my god, that’s like out of a movie.” Phil swoons, letting go of Harry’s hand. “But I think I like the story of the camping trip with my sister better.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Actually, I think I like that you casually brought her to a family party, and then brought her back to your place to watch the sunset.”

“Told her I liked her that night too, but I back peddled.” Harry chuckles.

“She picked up on that, but I think she chose to ignore it at the time. I’m glad she came to her senses.”

“Me too.” Harry smiles.

After a few songs, you come back to Harry, throwing your arms around his neck. Your fruity drink hitting you much faster than your others.

“Maybe just one more.” You slur.

“Or, and here me out, you could start drinking some water.” He tucks some hair behind your hair to keep it from your sweaty forehead.

“But-“

He dips his mouth to your ear to whisper.

“I’d like to have a little fun when we get back, and we can’t do that if you’re sloshed, babe.” He moves back to look at you with raises eyebrows and you nod. “Great, I’ll go get you some ice water.”

He returns shortly and you guzzle it down. Once you’re all set you make your way back to Julian. Harry taps his foot along with the beat of the song.

“Hey, handsome, can I buy you a drink?” A guy slightly shorter than Harry says to him brightly.

“Um, I’m so sorry, I’m here with someone.” He points over to you.

“Why aren’t you dancing with her then?!”

“He’s got a point, Harry.” Phil teases him.

“You’re not dancing with Julian!”

“Fair enough.” Phil finishes the rest of his drink and strolls over to join you and Julian. You both hoot and holler with excitement.

“Go on, pretty boy, go show your girl a good time.” The man winks and then walks away.

Harry sighs and makes his way over to you. Your eyes light up and your smile says it all. You’re absolutely delighted that he’s come over to you. You wrap your arms around his torso and press your cheek to his chest, swaying back and forth with him. His arms go around you and he rests his chin on the top of your head. It didn’t matter that the song was fast paced, you were happy to just be pressed up against him the way you were. You look up at him, smiling.

“What?” He smiles down at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was a wonderful night out with Phil and Julian, but it had to end sometime, so you and Harry uber back to the hotel around one in the morning. You didn’t want to be too tired for whatever fun he wanted have with you.

“That was fun.” He says to you in the back of the car. “I like them, they were really welcoming.”

“I’m so glad! I figured you’d get along well since you’re around the same age.” You shrug.

“That club was fun too, got hit on by a guy.”

“You did?!”

“Yup.” He says proudly. “Called me handsome and asked me if I wanted a drink, but don’t worry, I told him I was there with someone.”

“Well, thank god, otherwise you’d be in an uber with someone else right now.” You say facetiously and he laughs.

“Should I be offended that you think I could so easily be swayed to leave with someone else?” He nudges you playfully.

“Nah, I’m just teasing. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Besides,” he leans in closer to your ear so the driver won’t hear, “the only tight, little hole I wanna fuck is yours.”

Your eyes grow wide and you feel a shiver go down your spine. You know that he’s referring to your other hole. His mouth had been on it enough times now for you to know he definitely wanted to have anal with you, but you weren’t sure of how you felt about it exactly. You could see him maybe using a finger or something, but his entire prick? Your thoughts are broken when you feel his lips on your temple.

You get to the hotel and head up to your room, hand in hand.

“Oh!” You say as you get inside the room. “I brought something to wear to bed, and I really wanna put it on for you.”

“You never wear anything to bed, though.” He chuckles.

“I know! I brought it special for the trip. I didn’t think we’d be out as late as we were. Please? It’s really cute.” You pout.

“It’s just gonna come off a minute after you put it on, but sure.” He smiles and sits on the edge of the bed. “I’ll humor you.”

You grab your bag and bring it into the bathroom with you. This also gives you a chance to just freshen up since you were sweating on the dance floor. You touch up your makeup, apply some fresh deodorant, and spritz a little bit of perfume onto your wrists, and dab a bit behind your neck. Next you take out the garments you wanted to wear for him. It wasn’t incredibly special, but cute nonetheless. It was a pastel purple set of silk pajamas. The top was tank top style with a little bit of lace where you cleavage would sit, and the bottoms were shorts that just show your under-bum. Class, but sexy. You brush your hair out so it looks less frizzy, and then peak your head out of the bathroom door.

“Ready for me?”

“Ready, babe.”

“Close your eyes.”

Harry sighs and closes his eyes. He had already taken his glasses off and put them away. His palms are pressed behind him on the mattress. You tip toe out of the bathroom and come to stand in front of him.

“Okay, open.”

His eyes flutter closed and then they widen when he looks you up and down. You twirl around for him and giggle.

“What do you think?”

“You look…lovely, Y/N.” His hands come up to rest on your hips. “When did you get these?”

“Not too long ago. I’ve been saving it for a night away where I’d maybe have excuse to change into something else.”

“S’very pretty. I love the color on you.”

You smile down at him and get yourself situated so that you’re straddling him. His hands slide down to your ass and he squeezes you. His hands then move up under the back of the top and then he drags his nails down your soft skin and your head rolls back. He takes the opportunity to sponge wet kisses up your jugular, and around to the crook of your neck. He licks up to just under your earlobe, and sinks his teeth into your skin. You gasp from the sensation, loving the way it feels. Your hands move to clutch at his shoulders as he creates a nice, purple mark on your neck.

“Fuck, Harry.” You breathe after he detaches himself from you.

“To match your pj’s.” He smirks.

A slight whimper leaves your lips, and then you start unbuttoning his shirt furiously. He helps you get it off him, and then you run your hands up and down his torso, making scratch marks of your own. You loved the way his stomach would tighten from the feeling of your nails. Your fingers work next to undo his belt and button on his jeans.

“Need you naked.” You kiss him. “Now.”

He nods quickly and you stand up to help him get his pants off. He kicks them to the floor as he works to get his boxers off as well. Once they’re throw somewhere you kiss him again, and work your way down his body. He opens his legs up more you and you plant kisses up and down his hard dick. You move to tease him a little, nipping at his inner thigh the way he would do to you. He cards his fingers through your hair, and makes a makeshift ponytail for you with his fist. You lick up his shaft with the flat of your tongue and the moan his lets out just eggs you on further. You kiss his tip before taking it into your mouth and you sink down on him, taking him as deep as you can before popping back off him.

Not that he ever thought of her while he was with you, but times like this Harry couldn’t help but compare you to Paige. She never did things like this for him. He always had to ask her to do it, and she’d only do it for a couple of minutes. She’d give him a hand job no problem, but she rarely would put her mouth on him, which made him sad because he had no problem doing it for her. You, on the other hand, would often initiate with him, and he loved that about you. Sometimes you’d be lounging on the couch or even just reading in bed together, and you’d look at him. He knew the look very well now, and he would just nod, and all of a sudden your mouth would be on him. Times like this it was just more confirmation that he was with the right person.

Blow jobs were things you didn’t particularly enjoy unless you really liked a guy, which is exactly what you told him when you first gave him one. If you were going to make a guy feel good, you wanted to make sure that guy was going to make you feel just as good, and Harry passed that test. Now, you loved pleasuring him like this no problem. Even when you were on your period, you didn’t care that you couldn’t have much in return unless you got in the shower.

You lick over his slit and moan from the taste, which you didn’t particularly love, but just the fact that he was already leaking for you was enough for you to make the noise. You smear your bottom lip along his tip because you know he likes it sloppy, and you know his precome his bound to dribble down your chin. You look up at him and see he’s already watching you, chest heaving. You bring your face away, a string of spit keeping you attached to him before you lick over your lip and smirk.

“What?”

“Well…it’s just…I’m a little tired.” You look away and then back up to him, your grin growing. “So, what if I just put my mouth over you and you do the work?”

“Are you asking me to fuck your mouth?” He was being very serious.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Are you comfortable on the floor or do you want to get on the bed?”

“Maybe just hand me a pillow for my knees?”

He nods and quickly grabs a pillow from the head of for you. You get it situated to get yourself more comfortable, and you nod. He tightens his grip on your hair as you lower your mouth back around him. He starts by just easing you on and off, up and down. Your eyes flutter closed so you can focus on breathing through your nose. He bucks his hips up carefully to get a little further down your throat, and to help you adjust. You widen your throat as much as you can. You keep one hand on his thigh, and the other you keep in a fist, squeezing your thumb. An old trick you learned in college to help suppress your gag reflex. A placebo at best, but it worked.

“Oh my god, baby.” He groans as he really gets a rhythm going, bobbing your head up and down for you as he moves his hips. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Your eyes flutter open and you do your best to look at him through your lashes, but all you can see are the ferns on his hips and love handles. You had drool and precome dripping down your chin, and you knew he had to be loving it. He was panting as he looks down at you, biting furiously into his bottom lip as to not disturb whatever neighbors were on either sides of the walls.

He was being extremely careful of you, which just turned you on more. It showed how much self-control he truly had to not just be ramming and thrusting his dick down your throat. Your nails are digging into his thigh, and you do choke on him at one point, but you’re okay. Eventually he has you come fully off of him.

“Don’t wanna come in my mouth?” You ask as you catch your breath and wipe your chin with the back of your hand.

“Not if you want me to fuck your cunt later.”

“Oh.” You blush. “Yeah, I want that.”

“Alright then.” He chuckles and helps you up. “Felt so good, baby.” He kisses your now swollen lips.

He lays you down on the bed, your head comfy on the pillows. He reaches between your legs and groans when he feels how wet you are through the silk shorts.

“Christ.” He breathes. “Taking this all off now.”

You nod and lift your arms up. He gets you fully naked and spreads your legs open. Just as you did with him, he kisses down your body, nipping where he pleases, and starts leaving more love bites on your inner thighs, causing you to squirm.

“Stay still for me, baby.”

“M’trying, sorry.”

You give him a soft smile and he gives you one back before he licks around your folds. You feel yourself almost go cross-eyed from the sensation. His teeth nip at your clit before he sucks on it, and he has to use one of his arms to hold you down because you’re just extremely sensitive tonight for whatever reason. His thumb replaces his mouth on your clit so he lick into you.

“Oh, god.” You moan. Your hands fly to his hair to tug on. “Harry.” You whimper and it’s music to his ears. It just makes him fuck you harder with his tongue. His thumb rubs perfect circles into where you need it most, and you feel your legs shaking around him. “Fucking, Christ!” You cry out as you start panting. You could feel your orgasm already approaching. He just knew exactly what to do, and it was incredible.

He pops up briefly to get some air, and then he looks at you, furrowing your brows.

“Wh-what is it?” You ask innocently.

“Would you…” He holds up his index and middle finger.

“Oh! Mhm.” You smile and open your mouth for him. He smiles back at you and brings his fingers to your mouth to suck on. You make eye contact as you lap and suck around him.

“Thank you, darling.”

Your heart flutters as he works his way back down between your legs. His fingers slide inside you while his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers curl up inside you, and you grip at the comforter on the bed. They pump and twist and pet you, and it’s all too much along with his tongue flicking at your clit.

“Ah! Fuck, Harry!” Your back arches off the bed, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. When he retracts his finger from you, you look at him, your eyes growing dark with lust. “Get the condoms.”

He nods and rummages through his bag for them, tearing one of them open, and sliding it onto his hard, throbbing dick. You put your hands onto his shoulders to brace yourself as he thrusts inside you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he rocks in and out. You get a fist full of his hair and rock your hips along with his.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groans and looks at you, peaking his tongue out. You take the signal and let your mouth fall open so he can kiss you. It’s a searing kiss, needy, like he hadn’t kissed you in weeks. That was the thing with Harry, he always kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in ages, like he hadn’t touched you in ages. It was fucking fantastic.

“Harry, I’m gonna come again.” You whine. It was from the way you were grinding against him, otherwise you don’t think you would have had one again so quickly, not that you were complaining. He keeps everything the same so you can get there, and boy do you get there. He puts his hand over your mouth so you can cry out how you need to. You catch your breath and then you look up at him. “Let me ride you.”

He nods and pulls out, flipping on his back. You grip him to line yourself up once you’ve swung your leg over his lap. You sigh with relief once he’s inside you again. His hands work their way up your body to knead your breasts as move around on him in large circles. He looks up at you and starts chuckling.

“What could possibly be funny?” You ask, giggling.

“Nothing, I just like you a lot.” You pout at that. Since you said your I love yous, neither of you had made your like you a lot statement, and it filled your heart.

“I like you a lot too, Harry.” You lean down to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip before returning up right.

“Gonna fuck me, baby?”

“Mhm, gonna fuck you so good.”

You start to raise and lower on him, his hands coming down to squeeze at your hips. Usually he would even up taking over, but he wanted to let you do it. He knew you wanted to do it, and you were so kind as to let him fuck your mouth earlier the least he could do was let you control the pace just this once. It also inflated his ego immensely to look up and watch your face like this. The joy you were getting from riding him was so delicious to him.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, Y/N.” he squeezes harder at your hips, sure to leave bruises later, but you don’t care.

Your hands plant onto his thighs behind you as you continue to bounce up and down on him.

“Rub my clit, Harry, please.” You nearly whine.

He does so without question and you let out a loud moan. He could feel you squeezing around him and it was bringing him nearly over the edge. He could feel the ecstasy bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He groans.

“Good, want you to come, let go, Harry.”

You feel his warm come fill up the condom, and the sensation along with his fingers rubbing on you guide you to your third release, causing you to collapse onto his heaving chest. He tilts your chin up and he smears his lips over yours.

After the long day and night you both had, neither of you were upset to have woke up at 10:15. You shower together, without any funny business, and get ready for the day. Harry furrows his brows at the booties you put on.

“What?” You ask him. “Don’t like ‘em?”

“No, they’re cute, it’s just…won’t your feet hurt walking around in them all day? I know you lived here and everything, but-“

“I promise, Daddy, if my feet hurt I won’t complain and if I do, you can say I told you so.”

“Y/N.” He sighs. “I hate it when you call me that so condescendingly, my express of concern isn’t me being fatherly, it’s me being your boyfriend who would feel terrible if your feet got all blistered.”

Your features soften, you didn’t realize how much your little joked bothered him.

“Oh…I’m sorry, um, these are actually pretty good for walking in. I wouldn’t wear them if I knew they’d hurt, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”

You give him a kiss on the cheek, and he grabs the bags. You check out, and grab a coffee from the complimentary section of the breakfast area, and put everything in the car.

“Julian said we could park here for the day no problem. We just need to talk to the green line stop, and we’ll be good to go.” You explain after locking the car back up.

You make your way to the green line station, and you just use your Charlie Card to get the both of you through, and onto the train that would get you Government Center. You were happy to be traveling with Harry. Sometimes when you were in town with people who didn’t understand the hustle and bustle of the T it could be frustrating, but Harry had the tube back in London, so this was second nature to him.

You almost feel giddy after coming off the train, and see The Quincy Market sign come into view. You tug at Harry’s hand to get him to walk faster towards the shops.

“There’s a Ray-Bans store here I wanna go to. They’re bound to have a sale right now. Oh! And there’s this store that sells really hot sauces I think you’ll like. Does Andy like graphic T’s? There’s a Newbury Comics here and I’d like to get him a gift from there.”

“For what? Thought you only promised a cannoli?”

“I did, but it would be for Christmas. Is that alright if I wanna-mph!” His lips were on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. He was just overwhelmed with how much you cared about his son.

“Yeah, he likes graphic T’s.” He says it like he didn’t just shove his tongue down your throat, gently intertwining your fingers as you continue to walk.

You clear your throat and nod, giving his hand a squeeze. You go in and out of the shops. You note the sunglasses that Harry pays special attention to so you know which ones to get him for the holidays. You go into Sephora for a bit to look at the expensive makeup on one end of the store, and he looks at the foundation and concealer he would typically use. So much was on sale, you end up buying a ton of new brushes and sponges, and he gets the remover wipes he likes using. You go into spicy sauce store, and pick out a couple of bottles of things you’d each like to try, and then off to Newbury Comics.

“Do you shop at any of these clothing stores?” He asks subtly.

“Not really, I do StitchFix, why?”

“No reason.” He shrugs. Damn. He literally had no idea what to get you for the holidays. You bought yourself a new pair of sunglasses, and pretty much whatever else you needed. He was at a loss.

“So, what shows does he watch? I’d like to get him a shirt that’s relevant.” You say as you both make your way to the clothing section of the store.

“He’s really into Spongebob reruns at the moment, it’s been driving me nuts.”

“Seriously? That show is over twenty years old…”

“I know! He discovered it a few months ago, and he thinks it’s hilarious.” Harry sighs. “He also likes The Simpons, The Office, oh! He’s really into Malcom in the Middle right now.”

“How does even know about that show?”

“He found it on Hulu one night and he asked if he could watch it and I said okay. He loves it.”

“Hmm.” You tap your chin for a second. “I may need to go on Etsy then. I think I know of a shirt he would like, but I doubt they have it here.”

“You don’t have to go to so much trouble, Y/N. He’ll like whatever you give him.”

“That’s just it, I don’t want him to like it, I want him to love it.”

Harry thought his heart was going to burst as you looked around. You come to the section of the store with all of the different card games.

“Is he too young for Cards Against Humanity? Could be fun for him and Brandon.”

“Wee bit.”

“Alright…oh, what about What Do You Meme? That’s age appropriate, no?”

“Oh, he’s actually been asking for something like that. It’s a good stocking stuffer.”

“Perfect!” You snatch a pack. “This will also be from me.” You wink at him and keep looking around.

“What do you usually do for the holidays, anyways?”

“Well, whenever Hanukkah falls, I usually do something with my family, and then I lay low on Christmas.”

“Maybe during one of the nights of Hanukkah you could come over and the three of us could do something traditional with you.”

“I’d love that, Har.” You smile at him. “I could show you how to make homemade potato pancakes.”

“That would be a lot of fun.” He kisses your cheek.

Eventually you both walk over to the North End to get some Italian food for a late lunch/early dinner. You each enjoy raviolis and lots of bread. You make sure to stop off at one of the bakeries to grab some cannolis.

“You can just put these in your freezer, they should still be good when he gets home.”

“Sounds good, he’s gonna be so excited.”

You make your way back to the hotel garage and get into the car.

“Babe, let me drive, you’re tired.”

“No, I can do it.”

“Y/N.”

“Let me just get us through the city, and then I’ll pull over at the rest stop in Londonderry.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes.

You end up doing just that. You zip through the city, staying in the left lane the whole time, and then you pull over at the rest area. You let Harry drive the rest of the way, and he drives back to your place.

“Did you wanna stay over tonight? I could come to yours tomorrow, or if you’re sick of me we can-“

“Why do you always say that?” He chuckles. “I could never be sick of you.”

You beam at him, and you both get up inside your apartment. After you unpack your things, you both get into bed, and fall asleep quickly. It was the perfect Thanksgiving.

“Dad, these are so good.” Andy says, mouth full of cannoli Sunday night. “Y/N is the best.”

“I’ll pass the message on to her.” Harry smiles. “Listen, uh, how would you feel if she started staying over sometimes when you’re here?”

“I’d be okay with that, I don’t really care.”

“I just wanna make sure you feel comfortable with it. It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Dad, I really don’t care. I’d like it if she stayed here. I feel bad that she thinks she can’t. Then we could all have breakfast together in the mornings, that would be fun.”

“Yeah, it would. I’ll let her know you’re cool with it, thanks.”

“Thanks for asking first.”

“It’s your house too, not gonna make any big changes without consulting you.”

Later that night, as he’s crawling into bed, Harry texts you.

Harry: got the okay from the head of the house, you’re good to spend the night any time you feel comfortable doing so…he loved the cannolis btw

You: oh well, glad I was able to butter him up with those, lol why don’t we give it a try tomorrow?

Harry: are you just saying that because you know Mondays are baked ziti night????

You: what?! I’m offended! I want to come spend the night with you, it in no way has anything to do with your delicious, amazing, incredible, mouth watering baked ziti

Harry: god, you know what complimenting my food does to me 😈 😈 😈

You: goodnight, Harry

Harry: no!

You: yes

Harry: don’t do this

You: I’m so tired! You barely let me leave your bed this morning…need to catch up on sleep

Harry: everything we did today you wanted. I know because I asked and you said yes

You: very true! And now I’m telling you I’m going to sleep, I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow

Harry: alright, I love you too, sweet dreams, baby

The next morning, Harry gets up at 5AM to do his yoga in his bedroom, and then goes into the kitchen to get zome ziti boiled. It wasn’t a difficult dish to make, especially since there wasn’t meat in it, but Harry did use three types of shredded cheese, and he had a homemade marinara sauce. Once the ziti is cooked, he layers it all in a glass dish and sticks it in the fridge. It’ll go in the over to bake when he gets home later.

His next task is to shower, and get dressed before waking Andy up.

“Buddy, time to get up.” Harry comes in and sits on the edge of Andy’s bed. “Come on, sun’s up and everything.”

Andy groans like he does most mornings.

“Don’t gimme that. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs, please.” He mumbles.

“Can do, now get up.” He takes the top blanket away and Andy groans louder, but it wakes him up enough to get out of bed.

Harry whips up some eggs for Andy and some peanut butter toast for himself, and sets it on the table. Andy comes out in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt.

“Basketball’s gonna be starting in a bit, you must be excited.”

“Yup.” Andy smiles. “And winter program starts this Friday, I’m really excited for that. Do you think you’ll chaperone?”

“Probably. I’ll find a Friday to come out and help.”

“Y/N should come too.”

“I don’t know if she skiis…”

“How could she not in this area?”

“It’s not for everyone.” He shrugs. “I’ll ask her if she wants to come up to the cabin some weekend or something before having her help out with a bunch of kids.”

“Okay, fair point. Oh! You could teach her to ski, you’re a good teacher.”

“I’d have her take a professional lesson, Andy. It’s not as easy for adults to learn this kind of stuff as it is for kids.”

“You could still show her the basics.”

“Eat your eggs.” Harry rolls his eyes. “By the way, she’s coming for dinner tonight.”

“Of course she is.” Andy giggles. “It’s baked ziti night.”

“That’s what I said! Anyways, she’s gonna try staying over with us. Want you on your best behavior.”

“When am I not?” Andy scoffs.

“Hmm, let’s see…” Harry holds his hand up to start counting on his fingers.

“Okay, okay, I promise I’ll be good.”

“Thank you.”

It was a busy work day since it was the Monday after a short holiday break. You barely saw Harry, but you decide to leave him a little love note on his desk while he was teaching. You notice he left his phone on his desk. Something he rarely does, but it happens once in a while. You see it light up with a news notification, and you do a double take. His lock screen was a picture of the two of you. You pick it up and hold it closer.

“When did he…?” You trail off as you smile. It was a picture of you from one of your hikes. You’re looking up at him, smiling and sweaty, but smiling nonetheless.

“Y/N?” Harry says coming into his office. “What are you doing with my phone?”

“I…I was just leaving you a note, and it lit up…and…I didn’t realize I was your lock screen…” You hand him his phone.

“Of course you’re my lock screen, you have been for a while…”

“I guess I never noticed.” You look away. “I have a picture of the two of us as mine, see.” You show him your phone. “It’s from when we made that mess making waffles from scratch. Makes me smile every time I look at it.”

“Can’t believe I never noticed either…” He looks at the screen and then to you. He steps towards you. “You were leaving me a note?”

“Yeah, I…we barely saw each other today, and I know you need to get home soon, so I was just leaving you a little love note.”

“Oh.” He sets his things down on his desk and comes even closer to you. He tucks some hair behind your ear, his tell for wanting a kiss.

You lean up and he leans down and your lips press against each other. It doesn’t last long, you’re at work after all.

“Okay, well, I have some work to do.” You blush. “Um, I’ll be over by 6:30, does that work?”

“Works great.”

He watches you leave and he sighs dreamily as he gathers his things. He zips home and helps Andy with his homework before getting the ziti in the oven. You get over there around 6:30, with your overnight bag slung over your shoulder.

“Hi, boys.” You say as come inside after Andy answers the door.

“Y/N, those cannolis you got were so good. Thanks again.”

“Oh! I’m so glad you liked them, Andy.” You ruffle the hair on the top of his head and go to put your things down in Harry’s room before coming into the kitchen to give him a kiss. “It smells so good in here.”

“Just took it out of the oven, sit.” He smiles.

After dinner you’re itching to change into come comfier clothes, so you do. You put on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, one Harry gave to you, and you come out with your laptop to the living room.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Nope, Andy?”

“Do your thing.” He shrugs as he flips the TV to Hulu to put Malcom in the Middle.

“Remember, two episodes and then you can go read before bed.” Harry reminds him.

“I’m fully aware, thanks.” He rolls his eyes.

“When I was your age, my bed time was 9:30, but CSI, the Las Vegas one, was on at nine, and I used to watch TV with my mom in bed every night, and CSI was on Thursdays, and so every Thursday we’d have the same fight because I had to see how the episode ended, you know? And then my mom would get so tired that she’d just let me stay up and finish it.”

The boys both look at you with wide eyes. You had a tendency to talk really fast when you had a story to tell.

“Dad says I can’t watch TV right before bed because then I won’t sleep well.”

“He’s right about that! I could never sleep after watching TV with my mom. She’d watch Date Line and scary shows like that.”

“If you were scared, then why would watch with her?” Andy asks.

“Well, my mom worked until eight most nights and I just wanted to spend time with her, so getting into bed and watching TV with her was my way of doing that.”

“That’s sweet.” Harry says, putting his arm around you.

After Andy goes to bed around nine, making sure to give you and Harry a hug, you both decide to get ready for bed as well. You do your routine, and chew on your bottom lip.

“What is it?” He asks he slides into bed with his book.

“Can I still sleep naked? Does he ever come in here?”

“Hmm, how about just a t-shirt? Grab any one of mine from my dresser.”

“Okay, fair enough compromise.”

You change quickly, and get into bed with a book of your own.

“This is nice.” He says, smiling at you. “Having you here on a Monday night.”

“Yeah, feels right.” You kiss his cheek and open your book to the page you dog-eared.

Even though Harry just wanted to ravage you, he knew that would probably have to wait until you showered in the morning. You did look awfully cute when you passed out with your book still in your hand. Harry takes it, saved your place, and sets it on the night table closest to you. He takes his glasses off and turns off the lights, then kisses your forehead before wrapping himself around you. You adjust into him and drift off fully.

You’re woken up abruptly around midnight by Harry’s phone buzzing. It goes off a few times so he finally turns over and grabs it.

“Oh, shit.” He says.

“What?” You mumble.

“Paige called three times, hold on.” He swipes his phone to call her back.

“Harry?!”

“Hey, what’s going on, is everything alright?”

“No…everything’s not alright.” She sobs.

“What happened?” Harry sits up fully. “What’s wrong, darling?” When he says that it makes you sit up. He was clearly trying to calm her down, but you didn’t like him using the term of endearment.

“My…my father died.”

#harry styles #office neighbors #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #singledad!harry #professor!harry

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

For We Are Afar With the Dawning: A RQG Fic

Also on AO3. Contains spoilers for Episode 207.

Augusta is floating. Both literally and metaphorically.

Mentally, she’s floating on a peachy-pink cloud of euphoria and warmth and happiness and contentment. It’s an absolutely perfect day, the kind of day she never gets to experience anymore. The sky is a clear blue dotted with puffy white clouds, the sun bright enough to illuminate the scene but not so bright to hurt the eyes, and it’s pleasantly warm without being oppressively hot. The gentle, cooling breeze brings with it the faint scents of something floral; Augusta’s never been all that great with scents per se, but she thinks it might be roses or something.

Physically, she’s in a rowboat in the middle of a glassy lake, lying on her back with her arms folded contentedly over her chest and her head resting on a lap that seems to mostly comprise of white illusion. Augusta herself is wearing a loose-fitting lawn shirt and a pair of trousers, her feet bare. A pair of oars rest in the locks on either side, but nobody is using them.

“You know, Gus, I think you’re going to have a curly crop when this grows out a bit.” Delicate fingers run through Augusta’s delightfully short hair. “You’re going to look quite rakish.”

“Just so you don’t try to get me to wear one of those dreadful outfits you were talking about that boy wearing in your book.” Augusta smiles. “Really, Lou, where’d you come up with that? Nobody actually dresses like that.”

Louisa laughs. “I wanted it to be really clear that there was no way Jo would ever fall in love with him. Why would she love someone who dresses like that?”

“You should have given one of the girls who came to the Christmas play a name,” Augusta says. “And a personality. And a reason to come back.”

“Are you suggesting I should have put you in the book after all? I thought you didn’t like publicity, O Best Beloved.”

“I don’t like being tied to my brother. Being tied to you is different.” Augusta punctuates this by reaching up and twirling a strand of Louisa’s dark hair around a finger.

Louisa swats her hand away, but she’s laughing again. “Are you going to row us back to shore at any point? Mary and Emma should be here soon. Your Sasha was going to take the carriage and go get them.”

“She’s not my Sasha,” Augusta protests.

“She could be, if you asked, I’m sure. You know we’re all just yours for the asking.”

“Oh, stop it. That’s not how this works.”

“You can’t tell me the idea doesn’t appeal to you,” Louisa says relentlessly. “Having your own personal harem of beautiful and brilliant women. Mary for those delightful scientific discussions and Emmuska for solving puzzles and mysteries and Sasha for going on daring adventures and robbing tombs with and me for...well, when you want to be lazy and bored, I suppose.”

“Louisa May Alcott.” Augusta sits up and takes both of Louisa’s hands in hers. “You have no idea how happy I am. Right here. With you. I don’t need anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Sasha and Mary and Emmuska and I love having them around...and you’re right, Sasha’s so much fun to go poking around places we aren’t wanted with. But if none of them were here, I’d be happy just the same. Maybe more so. Being with you?” She brings Louisa’s hands up and kisses them tenderly. “This is perfect.”

Louisa blushes beautifully, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to row back to shore.”

Augusta laughs. “You wound me. Right here.” She places one hand over her heart.

She’s joking, but suddenly, it feels like Louisa—or someone—has wounded her. There’s a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in her heart, and the last thing she sees is Louisa’s sparkling eyes and sweet smile before the world goes white.

It resolves after a moment. Now instead of sitting in a boat, Augusta is sitting on a rock in a clearing in a verdant forest. Looking up, she can see the night sky and the stars, so many stars, more than she’s ever seen, and the sweep of the Milky Way looks almost green. The moon shines down on the clearing and illuminates her.

Augusta looks down at herself. She’s wearing more practical clothes now—boots, trousers, tunic, leather jacket—actually, it’s a lot like what Sasha Rackett wore when Augusta first met her, nearly two years ago now, except newer and neater. Across her lap is a well-made crossbow.

A big beast swoops overhead, one Augusta can’t identify (she grew up in a city and the only kind of hunting really considered proper for young ladies of her station was foxhunting). A moment later, there’s a rustle in the undergrowth, and a figure pops out into the clearing, a short figure with outsize ears and a drawn bow.

“Wotcher,” the figure says. “Seen a big beastie go by here?”

“It went that way,” Augusta says, pointing the direction she saw the beast fly. “What is it?”

The hunter—she presumes—shrugs. “Dunno. Still haven’t figured it out. Haven’t caught it yet. Maybe once I do, I’ll know. For now I just call it The Beast.”

He doesn’t seem particularly put out by this. He has a hunt, and what exactly he’s hunting doesn’t seem to matter much; he’ll find the answers when he finds the beast. It’s something Augusta feels an odd kinship towards. “How long have you been hunting it?”

The hunter shrugs again. “Dunno. What year is it?”

Augusta tells him. The hunter draws in a breath, then nods. “Well, then...two thousand years, give or take a couple hundred.”

“Ah.” Augusta looks around her. “We’re dead, then.”

“Probably, yeah. Well, I know I am. You probably are too. What were you doing?”

Augusta thinks for a moment. “Dreaming.”

The hunter snorts. “Not the best way to go out.”

“It’s not like I chose to go out that way. I’d rather have gone down fighting.” Augusta sighs. “At least it was a pleasant dream, though.”

She touches her chest, out of habit, and has a moment of panic when she can’t find what she’s looking for. Frantically, she scrambles at her neck until she finds the fine chain, then pulls it out and breathes a sigh of relief when the heavy silver locket lands in her palm. Just to be sure, she pops it open, and Louisa’s eyes stare back at her.

Augusta smiles back at the picture, then looks up to see the hunter staring at her inscrutably. She coughs and closes the locket. “Sorry. Just...checking.”

The hunter reaches into his own clothing and pulls out a photograph, but doesn’t show it to her—which startles Augusta, as she didn’t think photographs were that old—before putting it back. “It’s important to hold onto these things. Until you find them. Everything dies, after all.”

“That...probably shouldn’t be comforting, and yet…” Augusta takes a deep breath. “Everything does die, doesn’t it? I don’t know that this is exactly her idea of paradise, though.” Then again, she hadn’t realized it was hers, either.

The hunter shrugs. “Probably not theirs, either. But they all connect. I’ve got a camp set up.” He gestures off to one side. “Check in there every few...decades, maybe. Just to see if they’re there yet. It’ll be nice to have a home to come back to, someday, but for now...there’s the hunt.”

Augusta considers that as she tucks the locket back into her shirt, then looks down at the crossbow on her lap. “I’ve never really hunted in forests before, but I’m not bad at hunting in general.”

“I’d be willing to teach you some tactics. If you’re interested. Just until we both find what we’re looking for.”

Augusta stands up, shoulders the crossbow, and holds out her other hand. “My friends call me Gus.”

The hunter grins, red eyes sparkling, as he accepts her handshake. “Grizzop.”

~*~*~*~

Sumutnyerl soars, buoyed up by a thermal, then banks to one side and swoops low, skimming over the grass. This is their favorite form; they love to fly, and it’s a perfect day for it.

Beside them, another eagle tacks and swoops playfully, then sheers off. Sumutnyerl beats her wings to gain a bit of altitude and follows. For a moment, they race one another straight up into the air. Then the other eagle dips backwards into a loop. Sumutnyerl screeches in delight and goes into a spiraling dive, weaving around the other.

They continue this sky-dance for several minutes before the other leads up to the branches of a tree; Sumutnyerl follows and lands on a branch, then transforms back. They’re already laughing with delight. “I never get tired of that.”

“Nor should you.” Oblaitko smiles warmly, their eyes soft and kind. “The day one grows accustomed to the gifts that have been given is the day one ceases to live and begins to only exist.”

“I mean doing it with you.” Sumutnyerl looks out over the rolling meadow. “I would that we could do this forever.”

“We can,” Oblaitko answers. “Our duties are...light. And not incompatible. We needn’t go back to the town at all. You can attend to the Garden, I to the River, and we can spend the rest of our time here.”

Sumutnyerl considers. The idea is...not unwelcome. She feels an utter sense of peace here, with Oblaitko by their side. More than that, they feel like herself, like an individual and not just part of a collective.

“I would like that,” they say at last. “Very much.”

Oblaitko tucks a strand of Sumutnyerl’s hair behind their ear. “As would I.”

“A bargain, then.”

“A bargain,” Oblaitko agrees. “We can ask permission in the morning, but I hardly think the Council will object. It will save resources, after all.”

Sumutnyerl sighs and leans their head on Oblaitko’s shoulder. They place their arm around her shoulders and pull them close, one hand idly resting over their heart.

For just a second, Sumutnyerl wonders if Oblaitko is concealing a blade, because they suddenly feel a sharp, stabbing pain in their chest. They look up in shock, but there’s nothing on Oblaitko’s face to indicate they’re doing anything...and then the world goes white.

When Sumutnyerl’s vision clears, they are no longer in the branches of a tree, but somewhere else, somewhere far too familiar. Awareness settles on Sumutnyerl’s shoulders as they look around the Garden of Yerlick, but not as it is in life—currently or under ordinary circumstances. The flowers bloom as they past, trees put out their hands like old friends, and the spirits of the dead are instantly visible, smiling and calling to them.

Ah. This again.

“Sumutnyerl?”

Sumutnyerl turns and smiles again. Oblaitko stands before them once more, not in the same form as a moment ago—no longer young, their hair white, their back bent with age and the weight of their position—but their eyes are the same warm, kind brown they have always been .Right now, they are wide with shock and not a little sorrow.

“Hello, my dear friend,” Sumutnyerl says.

“Sumutnyerl,” Oblaitko says again. “Why...how are you here? Like this? You—you mustn’t. It isn’t your time.”

“Perhaps not,” Sumutnyerl agrees. They touch their heart, where the phantom pain is fading fast. “I—I believe I may have been stabbed in my sleep.” Like Nik, they think, with a mingling of regret and anger.

“You will be given another chance.” Oblaitko states this quite calmly, as if it is a given fact rather than an opinion...or a hope. “The Garden needs you. Our people need you.”

“Perhaps I shall be given the offer,” Sumutnyerl replies. “And...perhaps I will accept. But...well. There is much that has happened. Perhaps if I am not needed...perhaps if my last great task has been fulfilled after all…” They hold out their hands. “Would you allow me to stay?”

Oblaitko takes Sumutnyerl’s hands, and stares into their eyes, and no other words are necessary.

~*~*~*~

Hamid knows, on some level, that he’s dreaming, if only because Zolf isn’t really one for parties. That doesn’t stop him from being happy, though. Hamid’s sleep for the past few months has been dreamless at best, teeming with nightmares more commonly, and occasionally non-existent at worst. A part of him has started to believe he’ll never have beautiful dreams again, so the fact that this is a good dream means he’s going to enjoy it for all it’s worth.

And the others all look happy, too. Aziza sings beautifully, her eyes sparkling and face expressive, and her husband gazes on her with a proud, adoring smile. Saleh, his wife, and Hamid’s mother are listening to Oscar tell some story, gesturing dramatically with his drink, his other hand being occupied holding Zolf’s. Zolf has a faint smile on his face as he listens to a story he’s probably heard a hundred times—hell, it’s probably one he was there for, those are Oscar’s favorite stories after all—but that he never gets tired of hearing Oscar tell. Hamid’s father looks more relaxed and content than Hamid has seen him...well, ever since he started paying attention anyway, deep in conversation with Saira and Apophis. Azu, wearing the gown she and Hamid designed together for the opening of the so-called Bow Bar, is making a valiant effort at letting Ismail teach her one of the fancy dances he’s learned, while Ishaq enthusiastically does the same with Cel. Skraak and Grizzop have become fast friends, which Hamid isn’t surprised by, and he wonders what they’re talking about and if he’s going to have to help Zolf clean it up later.

Hamid dances. He loves to dance, almost as much as he loves to fly, and he doesn’t really mind that he doesn’t have a partner at the moment. As he spins, putting in one of the fanciest twirls he knows, he catches Sasha’s eye across the room and grins; she grins back and shoots him a double thumbs-up.

Hamid starts in Sasha’s direction. She’s so good on her feet, he thinks, she’ll be really good at dancing, and she’ll love it. Aziza’s just wrapping up the song she’s currently working on, and Hamid’s pretty sure she’s going to go into the aria from Act I of Carmen, which was her first leading role and one she’s quite proud of. Hamid knows with absolute certainty that Sasha will kill it at a tango.

Before he gets to her, he passes his mother and gets a kiss on the cheek. Saleh gives him a friendly poke in the chest as he passes, which actually hurts a lot more than Hamid is expecting, but he tries to laugh it off, especially as Saleh is laughing, too.

Zolf turns to face him. Letting go of Oscar’s hand, he reaches over and touches Hamid’s forehead with one thumb. He’s still smiling a little, and the look in his eyes is one he hasn’t given Hamid in a long time—not since the beach south of Calais, after they survived the storm sailing from Dover. It warms Hamid all the way to his toes.

“It won’t end this way,” he says, and while he sounds like he’s talking at an ordinary volume, Hamid somehow gets the feeling that nobody can hear Zolf’s words but him. “I won’t let it. Your heart’s too big to be destroyed by something like this.”

Hamid feels simultaneously stronger than he has in ages and like something’s being sucked out of his lungs. His wings unfurl from his back before he completely registers that the music is gone.

He blinks. Someone is holding him—it feels like Cel—and it’s dark. The memory of the lights dimming and then going out comes to him...and they’d been heading to the lab, he remembers, because of the tunnel, but what—?

Zolf’s voice comes from not very far in front of him. “Get in in the door, and get safe.”

Hamid blinks again. That’s an order, they’re in the field—he promised he would follow Zolf’s orders in the field, so even if he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he’s going to do what he’s just been told and he can ask questions once they’re all safe. Surely Zolf will be right behind him.

He takes in a breath to acknowledge his instructions—and sucks in a lungful of sweet-smelling gas. Instantly, he drops unconscious back into Cel’s arms.

He blinks and he’s at the party again. Zolf is still standing in front of him, smiling as he turns back to the conversation—did he leave for a minute? No, surely not, Hamid’s been here the whole time, he thinks fuzzily.

The song wraps up on a triumphant sting, and there’s a smattering of polite applause, and then just as Hamid suspected, the music starts up and it’s “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle” from Carmen. He hurries over to Sasha and holds out a hand. “Sasha, come on, you’ll love this!” he cries.

Laughing, Sasha takes his hand and lets him pull her onto the ballroom floor. She’s a natural at the tango. Hamid would never have dared ask anyone else to do this dance with him; it’s a fiery dance of passion, usually, but this is Sasha and she’s just his favorite sister, as far as he’s concerned, even if she’s not his sister by blood. There’s no romance behind what they’re doing here, no heat. They’re just two kids having fun, really, laughing and taking increasingly flamboyant chances with the flashier moves.

He ends the dance by dipping her, somehow, despite the fact that she’s two feet taller than he is, but they’re both flushed and laughing and having a great time. It doesn’t even matter that they overbalance and fall onto the dance floor. Nobody’s really watching them anyway, which is just the way Hamid wants it right now. He doesn’t have to be the center of attention all the time. Not even most of the time.

“I like your wings,” Sasha says, poking one of them, and when did they come out? Hamid genuinely can’t remember. “This ‘cause you’re a Meritocrat?”

“I’m descended from a dragon,” Hamid corrects her. “I’m not a Meritocrat.”

“Good. But the wings are cool anyway. Do they work?”

“Oh! Yes. Want to see?” Hamid gets to his feet and manages—somehow—to pull Sasha up too. “I can cast fly on you and we can—”

“No,” Sasha interrupts, surprising him. She pulls him into a tight hug, and, oh, Sasha gives the best hugs. Hamid’s always suspected she would, but she’s always been iffy about being touched. If his wings hadn’t already popped out with joy—apparently—they would be bursting out now. He hugs her back just as tightly as she lifts him off the ground with the force of her embrace..

“Don’t you give up, Hamid,” she says in his ear. “Don’t you do it. There’s no dream so good it’s worth losing the whole world for. You get back out there and you fight to make the world this good. Because this right here? This is worth fighting for.”

Just a little of the euphoria peels back from the edges of Hamid’s mind, and he clings to Sasha a little tighter. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“’M always with you, mate. Just like you were always with me. We’ll meet again. But right now, you’ve got to go save the world for me.” Sasha pulls back enough to smile at him, and her eyes are wet. “Make it a good one.”

Hamid’s eyes snap open.

~*~*~*~

If you had asked Oscar even a year ago, he would never have described this as the most perfect moment of his life. He would have said that the most perfect moment he could imagine is a gala celebrating the opening of his greatest work, a play that will be talked about through the ages and mean his name lives on long after he does, resplendent in his finest clothes, a rapt audience listening to him declaim his opinions—finally being the center of attention for art instead of admin.

But no. He enjoyed that, yes, and he’s looking forward to reading the description of it in the newspapers. But the truly perfect moment is this one. Just a simple, quiet family breakfast the morning after.

Azu is at more or less the opposite side of the round kitchen table they’re using instead of the formal dining table, nursing a hangover bigger than she is; she’s got a glass of tomato juice and a cup of strong black coffee and isn’t really talking to anyone. Cel is scribbling on a piece of paper and muttering under their breath, probably trying to improve or refine the special effects they and the kobolds designed and built for the production. Zolf presides over the stove as usual, his beard done up in one of the intricate braids he only does when he’s in an especially good mood and his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Sasha stands a little way down the counter, beaming as she slices and chops meat and vegetables for him; she’s the only one Zolf allows to help him in the kitchen, and even then only on special occasions. Hamid sits to Oscar’s left, a pile of newspapers between them, his pre-breakfast snack actually half-forgotten at his elbow.

“The reviews look really good, Oscar,” he says, sounding almost as delighted as Oscar feels as he hands over the Times, folded back to the Arts page. “All the criticisms I’ve seen so far have been about the acting, not the play itself.”

“I told you to cast Barnes in the lead instead,” Zolf calls from the stove.

“Not my call, darling. I’m not the casting director.” Oscar reads the article Hamid is handing him, a broad smile blooming across his face as he reads. Hamid’s right, the reviews are glowing, and this is from a critic who’s notoriously hard to please. A particular phrase about halfway down the column catches his eye: Wilde’s masterful words and turn of phrase makes even Johnson’s leaden performance turn to the purest gold.

Turning a few pages on, Oscar opens the society page and is delighted to see that most of it has been given over to a description of the party celebrating the opening. There are even a couple of pictures accompanying the article, and Oscar very carefully folds the paper back so that one of them is more fully visible—Oscar at the center, smiling broadly and holding a drink in one hand, his other arm draped around Zolf’s shoulders, the others arrayed around him looking pleased and proud.

“Have you thought about your next project?” Cel asks, looking up from their notes.

Oscar shakes his head before Cel can launch into an elaboration of the question. “No, not yet. I think I’ll take some time to see how this one does first. It may have opened well, but that doesn’t mean it will end well.” He sighs, a bit dramatically but not entirely put-0n. “Things so rarely do.”

“Things rarely stay good the whole time they’re happening, but that doesn’t mean they won’t end well,” Azu points out. “We got here, didn’t we?”

“And you’ve earned it,” Hamid adds encouragingly. “Happy endings feel a lot better when you have to work for them.”

“Cheers to that.” Sasha tosses her knife into the air; it flips four times and then returns to her hand without her even looking at it, and she goes back to her chopping.

“Have a bit of faith, Wilde,” Zolf chides him.

Oscar smiles fondly at his dwarf as he sets aside the paper. Azu’s faith in Aphrodite is a certainty you can cut your teeth on, but Zolf’s faith in Hope is nearly contagious. Like their happy ending, Zolf has worked for his faith, he’s earned it, and it’s never betrayed him. It’s the only reason any of them are still here, really. It’s the anchor that kept Cel from spiraling with guilt, it’s the keel that steadied Azu when she doubted herself (not her god, never her god), it’s the beacon that led Sasha back to them. And it’s the only reason Oscar and Hamid are still alive, albeit with matching scars—

Wait. Where did that come from?

Shaking his head slightly, Oscar pushes away from the table and passes behind Zolf, touching him first on the shoulder, then the cheek. “I have plenty of faith, dearest. In you if nothing else.”

“Get away from my workspace,” Zolf grumbles, though without any heat.

Oscar smirks and moves down the counter towards the cutting board, ostentatiously reaching for one of the ingredients waiting to be added to whatever Zolf is preparing. Sasha jabs playfully at his chest to make him back off.

She’s too good at what she does to accidentally stab someone when she’s only pretending to, and she wouldn’t stab him, especially not with Zolf’s good tomato knife; she has too much respect for both Zolf and blades to do that. And yet, pain suddenly erupts in Oscar’s heart, as though she’s driven a blade far bigger than the serrated one she’s holding into his chest. He inhales sharply, and the world goes white.

For just a moment, it resolves itself into his flat in Paris from when he was in university, or something similar anyway, but then it swirls into a pink mist. He feels something solid holding onto him, something anchoring him firmly in reality, and warmth floods his entire being. He feels safe and protected and cherished, and it gives him strength.

His eyes open, and he finds himself lying more or less on his back. Zolf kneels next to him, one hand tenderly cradling his jaw, the other pressed to his heart, which hurts like anything.

“Wh—huh—?” Oscar tries to sit up, his mind scrambling to fit this dark and rather crowded antechamber or wherever it is they are in with the light and airy kitchen-slash-breakfast nook he remembers from just a few...moments ago? What’s going on?

Zolf’s face is pale, his blue eyes intent, and there’s a trickle of blood near his hairline that worries Oscar in a vague and distant way. But he doesn’t have time to ask about it before Zolf looks into Oscar’s eyes and says in a voice that crackles faintly with an emotion he can’t place, “Get the others out, and get safe.”

Before Oscar can question it, or protest, or even figure out what it is they’re supposed to be safe from, Zolf half-shoves, half-throws him through a door that’s barely open wide enough for him to get through. He slides a few feet until he’s able to at least drag himself on his hands and feet a little further into the room. Someone runs past him and takes hold of the door, but doesn’t close it.

Oscar blinks hard, shaking his head to clear it. There’s a sweet smell in the air and he almost sniffs at it, almost tries to see what it is, but then his eyes fall on the crumpled figure not far from where he is and it acts like a dash of cold water across his brain. Hamid. Hamid is flopped in a pitiful heap, his new wings draped across the floor, his eyes closed.

He was dreaming. Oscar realizes that in the same moment that he takes in Hamid’s unconscious (oh, gods, please let him only be unconscious, Oscar cannot have failed him a second time) form and the sounds of something that is definitely not making breakfast in the other room. He pushes himself to a standing position and looks around the room. It doesn’t take long to spot the tunnel Hamid spoke of, at the back of the lab. That must be both out and safe.

“Tell the others to follow us,” he calls over his shoulder to the person he now recognizes as Ada, hurrying over to Hamid’s side and hefting him into his arms. The wings make it awkward, but Hamid sort of nestles into Oscar’s arms. Thank the gods, he’s alive.

Oscar runs. He heads down the tunnel, the light fading behind him, but he can’t spare a hand to cast any sort of spell to help him, so he just gets as far as he can. There’s just enough light left for him to see the gate before he runs headlong into it, and he checks, then looks over his shoulder. The others will be coming any moment now, he tells himself. They just have to wait a moment.

He sets Hamid down on the ground and looks him over quickly. He looks...fine, really. A bit disheveled, but fine. Then Oscar notices the bloodied tear in his shirt. Underneath the rend is a scar so new its edges are still shiny, directly over Hamid’s warm and generous heart.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened. And, touching his own chest briefly, Oscar feels the same thing.

He checks Hamid over quickly, and even though he’s a bit rattled, he realizes that the sweet smell he noticed earlier is probably what knocked Hamid out; other than that, he looks fine. Oscar sniffs the air experimentally. It’s a bit fresher down here, so he should be able to…

“Hamid,” he says urgently, shaking the halfling, then slapping his face as gently as possible. “Wake up!”

Hamid’s eyes snap open. There’s a moment of disorientation before his eyes clear. “Oscar?” he says, his voice a bit higher-pitched than normal as he sits up. “What’s—what happened?”

Oscar still has no idea, actually, except for one absolute certainty so strong he sensed it even in his dreams, maybe even before it happened. “Zolf saved us.”

The confusion on Hamid’s face melts into fierce determination. “Then let’s go return the favor.”

#ollie writes fanfic #rusty quill gaming #rqg 207 #207 spoilers #minor character death #grief mention #violence mention #augusta leigh (rqg)#sumutnyerl #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #oscar wilde (rqg)

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bts-hyperfixation · 3 years

Note

Taehyung, 2, 21, 27. Preferably a Smut with some angst and surprise me with the scenario. Could it be a mafia au?

Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year – 18+

Taehyung Mafia AU

Warnings: Anal play, definitely some unclean sex practices, unsafe sex, mentions of death threats

I am so sorry about how late this is!

“Look baby, I already said I’m sorry I’m not going to be home for Christmas.” Tae sighed rubbing his temples as you refused to turn back to face him. You’d been fighting over this for a while now.

“It’s not that you won’t be home for Christmas Tae. It’s that you won’t be back for your Birthday or New Years either and I’m sick of it!” you finally deign to look at him. It’s clear he is close to snapping at you, but you are tired of the shit. You knew it was going to be hard to be with him, especially after you found out what he really did for a living, but you weren’t going to let this one go. This year alone he had missed: valentine’s day, your graduation, your birthday, his mother’s birthday, and Halloween, and you would be damned if he missed the next three holidays as well.

“You know damn well there is nothing I can do about this Y/N! You need to just drop it.” He huffs fixing you with his most intimidating stare. Unfortunately for him, you became immune to that look a long time ago. He was scary man to everyone else, but to you he would always be a teddy bear. It was long established he would never hurt you. You just stared right back. Your own evil glare far more threatening.

“I bet you could do something. You’ve never even tried! You are at his beck and call regardless of the day or time. I bet if we ever actually got round to setting a wedding date, he would call you away from the alter and you’d just fucking go.” Something akin to hurt flashes across his face but you don’t stop. “Namjoon cannot be your be-all and end-all Tae, one day you are going to have to be a big boy and make a decision for yourself.”

“What do you want me to do Jagi? Do you want me to let Namjoon shoot me for not being there? He will you know, shoot me dead, or worse you. Look I was a stupid kid when I entered into this, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m in. Namjoon calls I answer, or I die. That’s it no grey area.” His gaze softens when he sees the panic in your eyes, tears welling in the corners. The thought of Taehyung turning up dead because of you too much to handle. He reaches out his arms for you and you slot yourself in. You take a minute to inhale him, burying you nose into his jacket.

“I just miss you Tae.” Your voice muffled by his suit. He holds you tighter to him and kisses your head. He moves one hand to smooth down your hair.

“I know Y/N-ah I miss you too, but we have tonight so let’s make the most of it.”

A short while later you are wrapped up on the sofa. Taehyungs arm is wrapped lazily around your shoulder as you lean into him, trying to forget that he won’t be there in the morning. The hours tick by and episodes of the show on the tv keep ending. The two of you are fast asleep in one another’s arms. By the time you wake up the world is way too bright. You squint your eyes to look out the floor-length patio window.

“Tae… Taehyung wake up!” you tap at his arm panicked as he grumbles for you to leave him be ‘just a little longer’ “Kim Taehyung wake your ass up. I think we are snowed in…” his eyes snap open at that. Fear registering on his face when he sees the two feet of snow that was still growing. He glances at his phone.

*3 missed calls Namjoon*

NJ: Where are you?

NJ: You’re late

NJ: Don’t make me take away your little toy to regain your attention.

NJ: Kim Taehyung if you do not respond to me, I will be forced to take matters into my own hands. DON’T make me.

He hides the screen from you a little too late. Bile rises in your throat, but he sends you a reassuring look as he rings back Bangtan’s leader.

“This better be good.” You hear through the receiver.

“Hyung, I’m sorry I’m not there. It appears I’m snowed in. I’ve spent the last few hours trying to figure a way out. The windows are too protected and the doors all open outward. It appears we did too good a job fortressing my home from others that even I can’t get around it.” You hear a low grumble come from side of the phone as Taehyung’s boss considers the excuse.

“I can’t spare anyone to bail you out… as soon as your free make your way here… I’ll be checking in.” with that the line goes dead. You both let out a breath in relief and settle back into the warmth of one another.

“Looks like I’ll be home for Christmas after all.” Taehyung says trying to break the silence.

“Guess I’ll have to think of a present to give you now…” you joke, untangling yourself from him and the blanket. You sway your hips a little too much as you move away.

“I think you might be my present.” He licks his lips as he stares at your bum.

“I don’t know? Shouldn’t you be looking for a way back to your Joonie?” you tease bending over more than necessary to pick something up off of the floor.

“Looking at the snow, I just don’t think there is anyway for me to possibly escape until after my birthday… New Years even?” he makes a big show out of being disappointed, but he can’t stop the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“No, no, you should at least try.” You turn back to face him, batting your eyelashes in the most overexaggerated way you could. Your arms pull in a little to accentuate your cleavage.

“Keep doing that and your gonna end on the naughty list.” He growls, abandoning his ruse mush quicker than you.

“I don’t know what you mean baby. You really really should try to get back to Namjoon, I imagine Bangtan’s entire operation is going to shit with out you.” You casually check your nails, attempting to look bored.

“I just got handed a get out of jail free card. I’m going to use it.” He fireman lifts you off the floor and spanks your arse. You squeal and wriggle but its no use. He throws you on to the bed, barely giving you a moment to recover before he is discarding his shirt and straddling you. His mouth latches on to your throat leaving blooms of purple all over the exposed skin. He is ruthless in his marking, needing the world to know that you are his, even if that world will only be you and him until the snow melts.

You whine as he nibbles at the most sensitive area of skin right below your ear. You can feel his satisfied smirk against your skin.

“Still want me to try to get back to work?” he teases. You just wrap your hands in his hair and pull his mouth to yours. Tugging at his curls, you don’t let him go until you can’t breathe anymore. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you missed him. it’d been a long time since the two of you had been intimate. He hovers above you for a moment. His signature boxy grin plastered on his face. He takes all of you in. Hair splayed underneath you, blush colouring your cheeks, lips plump from the kiss. Perfect. Perfect and his.

“What?” you can’t read what he is thinking. Having gone from full on to heart-eyes in a matter of seconds has you extremely confused.

“Let’s set a date. I’ll tell Namjoon to go fuck himself, just pick a day and I’m all yours.” He nuzzles back into you waiting for an answer.

“May, just as the weather gets better.”

“Deal.” His lips return to yours, this time it’s much softer. All his love for you going into this one kiss. “Now let me ruin you.” He pulls at the hem of your t-shirt, dissatisfied when it doesn’t immediately come off. He rips it away instead. You pout a little at the loss of a good shirt, but he draws your attention back quickly. Hot opened mouth kisses trail up your stomach from your navel to your bare chest. His tongue circled one of your nipples, flicking the sensitive bud until its standing at attention. He tweaks it between his fingers making you grimace at the pleasurable pain.

“Please Tae…” you moan

“Please what jagi? How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell me.” His feigned innocence dripping in his tone.

“Please Tae I need you.”

“Need me where?” he is practically laughing at how desperate you sound.

“I need you to shove your tongue so far inside of me I see stars.” Not a man to need to be told twice he dives straight between your legs. He makes quick work of your pants and underwear. You bend your legs and angle your hips towards him. You can feel the vibrations of his laugh flutter against you as he brings his lips to your core licking up your arousal before setting to work. He wraps and arm over your hips to stop you from writhing underneath his touch. So sensitive from not having his touch in so long. You cant help the jolt as his tongue slips from between your folds to between your cheeks, playing with the tight ring of muscles there.

“Tae” you try to make it sound like a warning, but it comes out more of a whine.

“You said you needed my tongue inside of you. You didn’t say where inside of you. You need to be more specific with your wording baby.” He doesn’t give you chance to respond before pushing into your hole. You keen at the sensation. The arm that was holding onto your waist makes its way to your clit, rubbing lazy circles in the opposite direction. He keeps the pressure just like that for a little while, lulling you into a false sense of security. You settle down and enjoy the lazy pleasure. You should’ve known better. Once your guard is down, two of the fingers from his free hand thrust inside of you. He curls his fingers, immediately finding the most vulnerable part of you. He takes his tongue away from you so he can watch as your face crumples in pleasure.

The orgasm that had been slowly building in the pit of your stomach is suddenly about to be ripped out of you. Your back arches as another finger stretches you out, inching you over the edge. His tongue returns between your cheeks as you ride out your high, pushing yourself down on the fingers he has left inside of you.

“God, I hope this snow never melts.” You pant

“Me too,” he tries to move back up and kiss you, but you push his face away.

“Oh hell no, you need to go brush your teeth before we go for round two. Next time warn a girl before you do that.” You laugh as he grumbles climbing off of you with an evident tent in his slacks. He shuffles fake dejected into the bathroom.

Masterlist

Christmas stories 🎄

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts smut #taehyung smut #tae x reader #v smut #taehyung x reader #bts mafia #bts mafia au #happy birthday taehyung #Taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung

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derekmorganscrocs · 3 years

Text

Nancy Drew 2x5

Thoughts While Watching!

MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS.

The episode was so chaotic I couldn’t hold back. PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED!!!

Using yourselves as bait is a horrible idea. Off to a great start also Ace looks adorable in moonlight.

George and her sisters taking a selfie almost made me burst into tears.

WALLET CHAIN NICK WALLET CHAIN NICK WALLET CHAIN NICK WOW ONG ARMS (ok looking back maybe a minor overreaction but it’s facts, sorry.)

IF ACE DIES I WILL RIOT. RIOT.

WOAH BESS AND GEORGE. DONT GANG UP ON ACE YOU FUCKERS. YOU FUCKERS. I WILL RAIN HELLFIRE UPON YOU. OH SHIT NICK IS SNAPPING AT NANCY. OUCH STOP FIGHTING YALL ARE SUPPOSED TO BFFS. ok I mean it kinda is Nancy’s fault but that was kinda harsh my guys.

Also I love that jacket that Ace keeps wearing it’s adorable. (Commercial break rn. Yes I still think hallmark men look like property brothers.)

THE GURLS ARE FIGHTING AGAIN. BUT ALSO TEAMING UP TO SPY ON NANCY. STOP THEY’RE ALREADY ARGUING ABOUT BINOCULARS. OMFG WHY DID RYANS DAD STICK A PI ON HIM WTF FATHER SON BONDING??? ahahhahha parenting books-

Carson and Ryan’s friendship is a crackship and I LOVE IT.

Something seems a little off about Hannah and it may just be me, but I’m a little suspicious of her.

THE WAY RYAN TRIED TO HIDE “respectfully following, maybe-“ STOP “you keep a vacuum in your trunk” STOP BOTH DADS KEEP A VACUUM IN THEIR CAR I CANT.

I thought ace was gonna go in the freezer when he went to get the sand and I was screaming. Literally. “NO! NO! NO.” Then he didn’t.

Do george and nick have double the odds? Sorry that was a bit random.

I’m kinda freakin out rn.

MAAM THIS IS NO TIME TO CHAT.

“The fish lady” even when Im crying over my nerves for Ace he can make me laugh. “Shuffling off our mortal coils” ?? Ok English Major babe.

STOP THE WITNESS PROTECTION PERSON HAS TO BE HIS MOM.

ACE WHY DID YOU NAME YOUR KNiFE MADELINE? WHY DO I LOVE IT?

I feel for Nick rn. He’s so sweet. I CANNOT.

IM FREAKIN OUT MAN.

PLEASE TELL ME CARSON AND RYAN ARE STILL FOLLOWING NANCY PLS PLS

Commercial: this random turtle commercial came on and it has the same energy as “call me elf one more time” from the movie elf. You know, the Christmas one.

NO WHATS HAPPENING WHY ALL OF THEM.

NO ACE NO NO NO IM FIVE SECONDS AWAY FROM TEARS.

OH THAT SCARED ME SHES IN THE TRUCK.

THAT FIRE IS TOO CLOSE FOR MY LIKING.

Sorry but the show is called nancy drew so I’m not overly worried for her, admittedly it’s nerve wracking, but she’s immune to dead.

NO ACE GOT HIT.

NICK KILLED IT??

LUCY IS GOING TO SAVE NANCY??? OMG PLS LUCY HURRY UP MAAM!! Oh nvm Nancy is an independent queen. Go nancy!!!

OH THANK GOD PLS I JUST SOBBED. ACE IS OK GUYS. Ok it seems like I’m overly obsessed with him, but I knew nancy was safe (main character immunity) and George and Nick we’re together, and Bess has too many loose ends to go yet, but Ace is the only character that doesn’t exist in the books and I’m in love with him, AND HE GOT STABBED. SO YEAH I was the most freaked for him.

TOO EASY. IT WAS TOO EASY. I was right it was too easy.

(Commercial) I have screeched several times. Several. I’m freakin out man!!

Are they just accepting death rn?? What is this? STOP IM ABOUT TO SOB. THE SISTERS I CANT BECAUSE I RELATE TO THAT. ok I’m suddenly seeing myself in george and I can’t. NOT THE FOUND FAMILY I WILL CRY. I WILL.

OH SHIT ITS NOT HIS MOM ITS NOT HIS MOM. THATS SOMEHOW WORSE.

Nick is a badass. Ryan don’t be a dick. Oh of course it’s a copy. Yes Nick blackmail Ryan with ur ex’s name!!! WHY WOULD RYAN NOT ASK ABOUT TOMORROW.

Please Nancy panicking with Carson. I can’t. “I need him now” is pain. OUCHIE. OUCH. Carson pls I’m crying. I CANNOT.

YOU FUCKERS SHOULD’VE JUST SALTED AND BURNED THE NECKLACE. DUMB BITCHES.

Ok I like where we’re going. YES APPEAL TO THE HUMAN. THIS WHAT I BEEN SAYING (other than salt and burn). Nancy/Odette friendship will be gold.

ACE SPEAKS FRENCH ACE SPEAKS FRENCH NICK IS A LITERATURE MAJOR?? OK??? I literally SMACKED my hand on my face when ace rolled that r “j’espère” WOWW

DONT DIE DONT DIE DONT DIE

ACE

OMFG OH SHE THREW THEM ALL. oh I think nancy is breaking through. OMFG.

FRENCH NICK FRENCH NICK FRENCH NICK.

WOW george looks amazing in the blue lighting, I can’t.

Woah. Woah. She really just- THEY DID IT!!! OH NO. NO NO NO. GEORGE.

George needed a redemption arc, where we see her be nice and decent, not to fuckin DIE! WHAT IS THIS. I WILL RIOT. I IDENTIFY WITH GEORGE NOW AND THEY CANT TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME.

COMMERCIALS AGAIN!!!! BUBLY AND MICHAEL BUBLÉ I SIMPLY CANNOT. I LOVE MICHAEL BUBLÉ HES JUST THE HUMAN VERSION OF CHRISTMAS AND HAPPINESS.

She said it back. She said it back. PLEASE NO. NO. I CANT. NICK’s VOICE GETTING ALL SMALL. NO. NO. NO. Nick, let ace help you. IM GONNA CRY. NICK ALMOST HAD ME BUT THEN BESS, THEN YOU JUST SEE THAT LITTLE BREAK ON ACES FACE I CANNOT.

STOP. “personal space drew” SHES SASSY ALREADY. NO IM SO HAPPY.

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS LAST NICK AND GEORGE MOMENT WAS CHEFS KISS.

“No more curses” YEAH OK HAVE FUN WIT DAT.

That’s a beautiful view though, over the water. George babe, you seem to have summoned odette back. This music is mad creepy.

Something really, really, really bad is about to- (real time reaction here, this is when the smoke thing happened) oh god.

Did she just talk to us?? Nancy just asked us if we heard that? This is gonna be bad. But in a good way.

No thoughts from my sister today because there wasn’t much for funny moments today. Also she seems to be in a bad mood, has been all day.

#ace nancy drew #alex saxon #bess marvin #george fan #george fayne #nancy drew #nancy drew cw #ned nickerson #nick nancy drew #tunji kasim #leah lewis #madison jazaini #ryan hudson #carson drew

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Text

Day 5: “Thanks for lending me your jacket.” - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

A/N: Okay I understand Christmas is over but I still had to finish the 12 days of Christmas challenge and I skipped over day five and never came back till today! Here is day five written for my fellow Santi lover @itspdameronthings.

Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Single Mom Reader

Warning: 18 + for language, single mom, kids

My Masterlist

Day 5: "Thanks for lending me your jacket." - Santiago 'Pope' Garcia

The door to the ballet studio slams open, and Frankie hustles inside with his four-year-old daughter Mia in tow. The other moms all smile at him as he shuffles her off to the other children, and she gets in line and starts warm-ups. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and readjusts his hat falling down into the seat next to you.

"What did I miss?" he asks, and you laugh.

"Well, Minnie's mom was talking about how she caught her husband sleeping with the nanny. But, she isn't going to say anything because he had her sign a prenup, and she would get nothing. Oh, and Peter's mom has been talking nonstop about her upcoming surgery. Apparently, you lean toward him conspiratorially, "she is getting some new," you gesture across your chest, and he laughs.

You and Frankie had met six months ago when you both enrolled your daughters in dance class. Being the only single parents and the only ones whose daily life wouldn't be on an episode of Wives of Orange County, you, two, had bonded instantly. You had even been out on a date, but it quickly became apparent you were just meant to be friends. Your daughters had connected instantly and become best friends. Mia and Harper were inseparable.

"What about Tina's mom? Did she get the nose job?" he asks, looking around the room, and you laugh.

"I think so; it's their nanny again," you point over at the strict-looking woman reading a magazine in the corner, and he nods smiling.

"So," he claps a hand over your leg, "Are we still on for the tree lighting thing this weekend? The kids perform at seven, so I thought we could all meet up for dinner at the Brewery down the street like five-fifteen or so."

"Yeah, that sounds great! Harper is so excited about dancing for a crowd, she is turning out to be quite the diva."

"I know what you mean; Mia is the same way! I was wondering...would you mind if Mia's godfather joins us on Saturday? He's in town from Columbia for the holiday and is going to be staying with us. I've been talking about you, and he says he wants to meet his replacement."

"His replacement?"

"Oh, he is fully convinced that I've replaced him with you as my best friend," he chuckles.

You laugh, and both of you get glares from the other dance moms. "That's fine with me. What's he like?"

"Well...how do you describe Pope, well his name is Santiago, but I've been calling him Pope since the Delta Force days. He is loyal, hardworking, and a complete and total slut. I bet you fifty bucks he will flirt with you the whole night."

You snort, "With me?"

"Come on, you're gorgeous. Honestly, you are just his type."

"Yeah, all except for one little issue," you point towards your daughter, who smiles at your brightly as she tries to do a pirouette.

"Oh, that won't deter him at all; he loves Mia. I'm sure Harper will have him wrapped around her finger too by the end of the night." He smiles at you, and you nod.

"Okay, I guess I will have to meet this friend of yours and see if he's worthy of the title." Frankie looks at you, quizzically, "Oh sorry, the title of the best friend, it has to be earned." He laughs, and you both hush as the teacher looks at you both sternly, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles, Frankie digging his elbow into your side as he covers his smile with his hand.

The week passes quickly, and it's the weekend before you know it. The Brewery's parking lot is packed, and a light dusting of snow lies upon the ground. You pull Harper from her car seat, and she babbles away at you about everything. The change in temperature from the outside to the inside is stifling, and you loosen your scarf, cursing under your breath about forgetting your coat. The red dress beneath it shimmers in the light, complete with black leggings tucked into your black boots.

"HARPER!" a shrill voice screams from across the room. Your daughter takes off across the room and into the arms of Mia, who is jumping up and down. You smile at the two and make your way over to the table, hugging Frankie.

"Where is this so-called best friend of yours?" you tease, moving into the booth across from him.

"Oh, Pope went to the restroom; he should be back in a few minutes. Why? Excited to meet him?" he teases, and you smile.

"No, just curious, I wonder if-" the words die against your lips as you watch the most beautiful man come towards your table. With salt and pepper curls, clean-shaven, soft juicy lips, and the darkest expressive brown eyes that twinkle in amusement wrapped up in a dark tan wrapping.

"Holy shit," you whisper under your breath, but of course, Harper hears.

"Mommy! Swear jar!" she sings, grinning at you, and you glare at her before watching the man slide in the empty chair across from you.

"So this is the famous Y/N that Frankie won't stop talking about. I must say his words do not do you justice; you're stunning," he holds a hand out to shake, and when you touch, the electricity crackles, and you quickly withdraw your hand.

His smile fades, and he just watches you. You could get lost in the depth of his eyes, and Frankie coughs loudly to break the tension. You look away and turn to Harper, figuring out what she wants for dinner. The waiter comes a few minutes later, and you all order. The girls get Mac N cheese and chicken nuggets, knowing them they will end up sharing all the food.

"Uhm, I will take the jalapeno cream cheeseburger with the black bean patty, please, and the House Amber on draft please," the waiter takes your orders and walks off.

You try really hard not to openly stare at Santiago, but he doesn't take notice, never taking his eyes off you. "So, tell me about yourself," you take a sip of your beer and finally look at him, his lips turned up into a wide grin. You spend most of the dinner conversing with Santiago while Frankie keeps the two girls occupied. You don't miss the not so subtle wink he sends your way as you almost choke on your beer.

"Are you okay?" Frankie comes around and pats you hard on the back. "You're flirting," he teases quietly next to your ear, and you hiss at him to shut up, glaring. “You owe me fifty bucks,” he laughs.

He grins triumphantly as he retakes his seat and checks his watch. "Okay, everybody, we got to get going over to the tree lighting. Girls, finish up and get your coats on. "I'll get the bill tonight."

"Frankie! I can pay for myself-"

"I insist," he says, putting a hand to his chest, "come on, girls. Ah, don't look at me like that; you can get the next one." Harper hugs you before grabbing Frankie's outstretched hand and going to pay.

"Are you two dating?" Santiago asks bluntly. "Or fucking?"

You laugh, "Uhm, no, Frankie really just is my best friend. We tried going on a date once, and it was like dating my brother."

He chuckles, "yes, I can imagine that would be awkward. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, are you single?"

"Why do you want to know," you rise and grab your purse, and he stands to offer his hand. You look at it and then back up to see the small smile on his face. Taking his hand, he intertwines your fingers and leads you outside. You look and see Frankie and the girls already halfway to the tree lighting, and you grin at Frankie's not so subtle matchmaking skills.

"Looks like they left without us," Santiago laughs, tugging your hand into the crook of his elbow and taking off at a more leisurely pace. You shiver as light snowflakes begin to fall. Cascading the area into a winter wonderland. He stops walking and shrugs out of his thick overcoat, and hands it to you.

"I can't take your coat," you try to refuse, but he grabs your arm and puts it on you like you would your daughter. "I…" the argument dies on your lips as he gives you a playful glare. "Thanks for lending me your jacket."

"Now, you're just going to have to keep me warm." You laugh together, and he retakes your hand and intertwines your fingers. "So about what I said earlier? Are you seeing anyone?"

"Would I be holding hands and flirting with you all night if I was? Do you think I'm that type of woman?" He quickly throws his hands up and shakes his head no.

"No, no, that's not...I just, shit, I am fucking this up, aren't I?"

"No," you chuckle, "But I'm having fun watching you try. Frankie told me you were a huge flirt, and I should watch out for you. I like what I have seen so far, and you are incredibly handsome with a nice butt. So yes, I am single. Now, what are you going to do about it."

You both arrive at the tree lighting and look for Frankie, who waves you over near the doorway to the community center. He smiles at you, both seeing your hands intertwined and raising one eyebrow. "The girls are with their instructor there going to go on in about ten minutes. Also, remember that Frankie is the perfect name for a boy."

Santiago punches him in the arm, and Frankie laughs. "Shut up, Frankie," you scoff. "I'm going to go get some hot chocolate inside. Do you want anything?"

"I'll come with you," Santi follows close, still holding your hand as you wait inside for hot cocoa and cookies. "You asked me what am I am going to do about it?"

You nod, looking at him, "Yeah, and did you decide?" You take a step forward as the line moves.

"Yes, right about now," he dips you, and you give a little yelp as he plants his lips onto yours. His lips are warm and soft, and you melt into the kiss as the small crowd cheers around you. When he brings you back up, you feel lightheaded and swoon a little, but he catches you laughing. "Sorry, the moment was just too perfect," he points up, and you smile at the mistletoe hanging overhead.

"Well, wouldn't want to waste perfectly good mistletoe," you kiss him again, and he responds. Running his hands over your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening it.

"Excuse me? Are you still in line for hot chocolate?" An older man taps Santi's shoulder, and you break away giggling, burying your face in his neck.

"No, sir, I think we're going to skip the hot chocolate; I got something sweeter right here."

The older man blushes before moving around you, and you both burst out laughing before he kisses you again. The emcee from outside begins the program, and you shout, running and dragging Santi behind you. Frankie looks at you both and just shakes his head laughing. "What's so funny?" you ask.

"Nothing, I just never realized that red was your color, Pope," he teases, and you look at Santi, shocked before you laugh and quickly grab a wipe from your purse and wipe it off. You wipe off your own lipstick, and both men watch, amused.

"What now?" you huff.

"Why are you wiping off your own lipstick?" Frankie questions smiling.

"Oh, I am kissing him a lot more before this night is over. The last thing I need is the Spanish Inquisition from my daughter about why the nice man from the restaurant is wearing my lipstick." Santiago's lips turn up into a smile before he kisses you again, and you pull back smiling at Frankie, who has his mouth agape.

"I am really looking forward to kissing you more, but can I also take you out for dinner tomorrow night? Maybe Frankie can watch Harper?" Frankie nods, agreeing with the plan.

You kiss him again as the ballet music starts, "I would really love that."

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @lunarthoughts @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @josepedropascal @letoartreiides @revolution-starter

#santiago pope garcia #Santiago pope garcia x reader #Female reader #single mom reader #triple frontier #Oscar Isaac #Autumn Writes

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

Text

Almost: Ch7

Hello! This is the 2nd to last chapter. So tomorrow you will get the final chapter. So excited for all of you to read this and thank you for all the love I’ve been getting on it!

Summary: Dean was locked up in a room full of hot-headed Novak siblings while they read Chuck's last testimony out loud. Lucky for Dean, Cas doesn't mind being used as a pillow. Unlucky for Dean, Cas's siblings are assholes.

Read on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice little comment?)

Word Count: 2893 More Under The Cut

The room was way too stuffy.

That was the feeling throughout the whole will reading. After the first half-hour, Dean was sure that Chuck just wanted them there to bore themselves to death. Cas was busy listening and even taking notes - that big nerd. Bobby was sitting on his own chair beside their shared couch. He looked like he was paying attention but Dean could already read the glossy far away look in his eyes. The old man was falling asleep with his eyes open again.

Not a bad idea. Dean tilted his head down to rest on Cas’s shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest as he made himself a little more comfortable. He thought for sure Cas was going to say something about it. About him being an idiot and he should sit straight and listen but nope. Instead, Cas moved his pen to his left hand and reached his right hand to gently pat Dean’s hair.

The involuntary shiver that ran down his body as he leaned into the soft touch was embarrassing but fuck did he really like this. Cas’s finger softly ran through his hair and scratch at his head. It felt like before. Like they were in a college lecture again and Cas would tell him to go to sleep. That he would take notes because he knew Dean had a long day at work and only had maybe 3 or 4 hours of sleep.

Then he felt Cas’s head tilt down to rest upon his and for fucks sake if this wasn’t the most relaxed he has felt all week.

Even in this room filled with boring words being spoken - Chuck never really was a great writer but he sure as hell writes a lot - and a tense Novak family, Dean could feel like he could fall asleep right here.

“Mr. Winchester?” Dean blinked open his eyes as Cas gently patted his face.

He sat up straighter as he looked up at the lawyer who was practically glaring at him. To be fair it felt like everyone was. “Um, yeah?”

He heard Raphael groan in annoyance and Dean tried hard not to glare at Cas’s brother.

“We’re ready to talk about what you are getting from Mr. Chuck Novak. So if you’ll kindly give me your attention.” The lawyer calmly stated, sounded like a creepy old man from a damn Scooby-Doo episode. Actually, he kinda looked like one too.

“Sure.” Dean nodded once. Feeling Cas squeeze his knee and then everything went to hell.

The words sounded almost far away when the lawyer guy said them and it wasn’t until Bobby was tugging at his arm to stand up that Dean got on his feet. His legs were shaky and he turned to look at his Uncle and Cas who told him to go.

All he had to do was walk up to the lawyer. To take the pen to accept the gift. Shit. He didn’t even accept those expensive headphones Charlie gave him last Christmas and he was supposed to accept this?

Fuck. He’s gonna throw up.

“Dean?” He heard Cas call out to him, the concern was clearly there but Dean didn’t turn to look at him.

Didn’t really look at anyone really - too busy looking down at the fucking pen he had to pick up. So maybe that’s why he never saw it coming. Saw Mike get up from his chair and land a punch on his jaw.

Everything after that was kind of a blur.

It wasn’t until the security came and everyone froze that he saw Cas standing over Dean. Cas’s fist was pulled back, ready to land another punch on Raphael, while his other hand was grabbing his brother up by the collar. Mike and Luci were still arguing with each other in a wrestling match about who was Chuck's actual favorite son - pathetic for these grown men to be fighting about.

Gabriel was sitting, rolling his eyes about all of this, while Bobby and Anna waited outside the office. Yelling at them to stop before the cops showed up.

“Now,” The lawyers spoke up after they all sat back down. “Will Mr. Winchester please sign the papers so we can continue?”

Cas shoved Raphel back and he fell back on his ass. He then turned around and held his hand out for Dean to take and help him up.

“Sign them.” Cas' voice was firm as he motioned towards the papers with his chin. Dean was just a little too distracted by his face. It was bloody and his hair was all ruffled. Fuck, bad timing to think Cas looked hot. “Dean.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat and quickly took the pen out of the lawyer’s hand to finally sign on the dotted line. The room went quiet again. “There.”

Half of the Novak fortune was now his and thankfully so was Bobby’s Garage. Yeah, he’s gonna throw up.

The drive to Cas’s hotel was a quiet one.

Cas was in the passenger seat with his head against the window. His eyes were closed with bloody tissue up his nostrils and an ice pack balancing on his cheek. Dean could see Cas’s foot still taping to the music, he probably didn’t even realize that they were parked outside the building now.

Dean took the chance to just look at him. Enjoying the view of Cas sitting passenger side. He looked so relaxed considering what they just went through and if it wasn’t for the foot taping Dean would think he has fallen asleep. His suit jacket was draped haphazardly on the back of the bench. Remembering Cas getting in the car with an angry huff, loosening his tie, and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt after he slammed the car door shut.

The bruised knuckles and blood speckled shirt didn’t stop Cas from doing his old car routine. Getting angry when his mixtape was not found inside the box but let out a little, “Oh.” when he realized it was already in the tape deck. He quickly rewinded the tape before slipping it back in.

“Dean. I need you to turn on the car.” He told him. Voice low and gravely more than usual because of his frustration.

Dean just did what he was told. Turning on the car and backing out of the parking space as Cas pressed play to let Tangerine fill the car.

Now Kashmir was playing its final beats and they both knew it was the last song on the tape. Dean drove slow - he even took the long way and tried to hit as many red lights as he could - but it was time for Cas to get out of the car and leave this calm. Leave this safe space.

“You sure Bobby isn’t mad for leaving him with Gabriel?” Cas didn’t look at him as he asked. His arms just wrapped tighter as he hugged himself. He was stalling and Dean really wished he didn’t have to leave the car at all.

Dean nodded even though Cas wasn’t looking at him. He relaxed against his seat with a heavy sigh and when he nervously licked his lips he could taste the dry blood on them. The split on his bottom lip was apparently much smaller than he imagined but still burned like a motherfucker.

“He likes Gabriel - surprisingly enough - so I’m sure he’s fine.” Dean reaches over to hover his fingertips over his throbbing cheek and he lets out a small chuckle. “Never imagined this is how today was gonna go.” He throws his head back to rest against the bench seat. “Fuck my face hurts.”

He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and then he feels an ice pack gently being pressed against his lip. Cas scooted closer to him on the bench, tucking his feet under himself so he could kneel beside Dean, and look down at him with such wide sad eyes. It was heartbreaking to see those baby blues look so broken. Almost empty.

The anger clearly faded and now Cas was left mourning not only his father but a life he just can’t afford anymore.

Dean covered Cas’s hand with his own and slowly lowered the ice pack just as Cas scrunched his lips together to hold back his cry.

“Cas,” Dean looked up at him and carefully reached to wipe the stray tear that escaped. “It’s okay.”

Cas nodded as he smiled through the tears he was now freely letting fall now. Landing down on Dean’s own cheeks. “I know.”

“Then why are you crying?” Dean didn’t move from where he was looking up at Cas. Letting his thumb make small circles against Cas’s bruised up cheek. “You know I wouldn’t ever leave you to fend for yourself. You’re too stupid for that.”

Cas laughed, it was mixed in with a sob but his eyes looked brighter. That was good. Dean can’t stand looking at those still icy eyes any longer. He wanted him warm cause that is what Cas is. He’s warmth.

“Are you mad at me for accepting?” Dean quietly asked as he took the ice pack from Cas and raised it up with his free hand to press against Cas’s eyebrow bone where a ring must have cut him. Dean’s other hand was still carefully tracing his cheek. If he could only have these touches for this short time then he is sure as fuck going to take advantage of them. Of these soft touches. Quiet whispered voices. This closeness.

Cas has to go back to Mick but right now Cas was his. In this car, Cas was his.

“Course not, Dean.” Cas closes his eyes with a wince. “I’m glad you accepted. Dad never really liked me so I was surprised I was even mentioned in the testament at all. I am fine with what I got. Then again,” Cas opened his eyes and raised his bad brow only to wince harder. “Fuck, that’s gonna be annoying.”

“Control your damn face.” Dean chuckled as Cas stuck his tongue at him. “Then again?”

“Ah, um, then again I didn’t expect you to get the big price.”

“You sound mad.” Dean looked back at him with a wary look and Cas reassured him with a smile.

“Confused is more accurate.” Cas took the melting ice pack from Dean and now it was Dean’s turn to get his bruised face iced. “I just wish we had more closure. Like what the hell does it mean that you were the only one doing what you were supposed to be doing?”

“Fuck if I know, man, but...I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t be, dumbass.” Cas chuckled as he carefully dabbed at his lower lip. “I’m happy for you, Dean. Truly. I’m glad that you were there for him when none of us were. Even if he was difficult at times.” Cas sighed and leaned back on his legs. “I’m glad he was just as fond of you as I was. It’s nice to know I had that in common with my Dad.”

Dean made a face. “Dude, hopefully not the same way.”

Cas threw his head back to laugh. It was loud and his eyes crinkled on the side. His dumb nose scrunched up as he leaned forward to grin back at Dean. Eyes so bright and warm that Dean could feel his breath catching in his chest. It was such a beautiful sight that Dean sat up and stretched his neck until their noses were nuzzled together.

Dean could feel Cas’s gasp out in shock, his breathing coming out shaky and heavy against Dean’s lips. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is he doing?

“Cas?” Dean watched as Cas slowly closed his eyes. He answered with a soft hum before swallowing hard.

Dean’s hand reached to cradle the back of Cas’s neck as his heart pounded in his chest. It felt so damn heavy and scary because Cas was so close. He could kiss him right now. Fuck, he can have those damn sweet bruised up lips against his own for another second. He can have him like this one final time.

Feel the burn of his mouth against his own and let that be enough. Let it be the only thing that had him floating above water or it could finally be the thing that drowns him. Be the thing that finally takes him under and he’ll have no choice but to fight for his life. Fight to finally have Cas.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was shaky and desperate. It sounded like an agonizing plea while he felt Cas shuffle closer. Then Dean’s eyes dropped closed as he felt just the slight brush of their lips.

He felt Cas’s full-body shiver as he sighed and Dean wanted to see more.

A whimper escaped between Dean’s lips as he felt his whole body heat up and he knew - fuck he knows! - how stupid this is. How much this will hurt when he eventually ends up getting fucking pulverized but he can’t think of that right now. He can't think of the damn consequences when Cas is right here. When he is slowly crumbling against his touch.

Dean tilted his head forward again to brush their lips together to finally-

The loud knocking on the roof of the car made them jump back. Cas quickly crawled back to his side of the bench only to jump back when Mick was at the window. Clearly forcing a smile.

Clearly, he saw the whole thing.

“Cas.” Dean tried reaching for him but Cas was already opening the car door.

Mick looked like he was about to scream but his face froze as the anger faded to concern. “Castiel! What - what happened?!”

“Can we talk inside?” Cas closed the car door and Dean flinched in the driver's seat.

“Sure.” Mick took Cas’s hand and Dean couldn’t see their expressions anymore but he saw Cas stiff shoulders as they walked away from the car. Hand in hand they didn’t look back and Dean was left alone.

Again.

Cas didn’t pick him again. He knew it too and it still fucking hurt like a son of a bitch.

He hit the steering wheel in frustration a few times, letting out screams before he quickly turned on the car to start to drive.

He can’t go home. No. Home kind of walked away from him again. But he’ll stay at Bobby’s.

Just the idea of walking into his cold apartment shatters him. So he’ll go and bother his little brother. He’ll just...he’ll take the long way home.

Dean spent most of the next day bussing himself with work. If he wasn’t under a car then he was in his office - pulling his hair mostly - finishing paperwork that felt never-ending. He ignored his personal phone - putting it on do not disturb with the exception of Sam, Charlie, and Bobby - while he tried to think of anything but Cas.

He did it for five fucking years so why was it so hard now? Why can’t he just push him back and out of his mind again?

Dean let his head fall and bang against the desk. Maybe it’ll knock some sense back into him.

“Why is it that you’re always doing that when I walk in?” He heard Sam’s voice and Dean’s response was just to flip him off. He heard Sam laugh and then two chairs scrape against the floor. He looked up to see Charlie was also there.

“What do you two want? I told you I still don’t have the money.” He folded his arms on the desk and let his chin rest on them. “I promise I’ll call you so you can see the number.”

“It’s dinner time, stupid.” Charlie pushed the paper bags on the desk where Sam was cleaning up. Stacking papers on one side and making room so they wouldn’t dirty anything. She smiled down at him, it was sad again. “You didn’t eat breakfast and barely finished your lunch.”

“Not hungry.” He shrugged as if they would buy it.

They shared a look with each other and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Well, we are. So eat with us.” She said while she opened the paper bags to hand him the food they got him. “We even went across town to get those curly fries you like.”

“Yeah and look!” Sam gives him a black styrofoam take out container. “We got you that berry cobbler you like! With ice cream.”

Dean lifts his head up and accepts the cobbler. “Fine. But it better be warm.”

They were about to start eating when they heard a soft knock at the door. Dean sighed as he called out, “It’s open!”

The door slowly opened and then Cas popped his head in with an awkward smile. Those sad eyes front and center again.

Dean quickly stood up but then he noticed Mick was standing beside him with his arm around Cas’s waist.

“Um, hello everyone.” Cas smiled at them and there was a hard tug on his lips. He swallowed hard as he awkwardly shuffled his feet before stuffing his hands in his pockets. Then his eyes looked up to meet Dean’s. “Dean? Can we talk?”

No. No. It sounds broken. Sounds like he’s about to say...goodbye.

Tag List p1: Ask to be added or removed! It’s chill. I post way too much lol

@galaxycastiel @superduckbatrebel @slipper007 @ar-bi-trary @winchestcas

@imlivingliferightnow @bi-bi-marie @nguyenxtrang @dancerdovegirl

@chocolatecakecas @trasherasswood @celestialcastiel @castiel-is-a-cat

@readeroftheimmortalbooks @marichankitty @confusedisaster

@castiels-bitch @destiel-bitches @tearsofgrace @wigglebox

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff.

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget.

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement.

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier.

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs.

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child.

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands.

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance.

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother.

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement.

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment.

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd.

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over.

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.”

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie.

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors.

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper.

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous.

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls.

“ Millennium Falcon playset.”

“ You and a million other little boys. “

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face.

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street. “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity.

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #frankie morales x you #francisco morales imagine #frankie morales imagines #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier imagines #catfish imagine #catfish x reader #catfish x you #jos2020xmasspecial

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sweetyyhippyy · 3 years

Text

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character.

Chapter 10. “Together Again.”

(Not my gif)

Summary: It’s been 6 months since Maeve was killed in front of Spencer. Bridgett had been there for him as a friend, but both of them can’t help but acknowledge the feelings they still have for one another.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez.

TW: Mentions of Maeve, a really bad science joke, mentions of drinking alcohol and being drunk, sexual related questions, making out, body image insecurity, sexual joke, eluding to sex.

Word Count: 3k

A.N.: this is end of season 8 Spencer!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Black coffee, sprinkle of sugar and cinnamon stick.” Spencer says, walking up to Bridgett’s desk with a small cup in his hand.

Bridgett’s looks up from the folder her nose was buried in, a smile on her face. “Thank you, my hero.” She says, twisting the cap onto her highlighter and tossing it onto her desk, taking the cup from him. She takes a big gulp, feeling warm as soon as she swallows.

Spencer scoots his chair over to Bridgett’s desk, right next to her. “I heard we’re down JJ.” Spencer says, taking a sip from his cup.

“Yeah, Henry got a stomach bug and spread it to her and Will. Have kids, they said.” Bridgett jokes.

“I thought you wanted kids?”

Bridgett laughs, taking another gulp of her coffee before scratching the back of his head softly. “You’re so cute when you don’t pick up on my sarcasm.” She teases.

Spencer admitted that he missed the physical aspect of their past relationship. It had been only six months since Maeve was murdered and the two of them had almost restarted their relationship, but not quite. Bridgett knew how emotionally damaging it was for Spencer to watch someone he loved romantically get shot right in front of him. He still needed time to heal but she didn’t want him to be a rebound for him.

“Spence?”

“Hmm?” He snaps out of his mind, looking back at Bridgett.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Bridgett asks shyly.

Spencer smiles, taking a drink of his coffee. “Nothing. I was thinking about something funny.”

“Yeah? What?” She asks, trying to catch him in his lie.

Spencer gives her a long stare, trying to cook something up in his head. “What do you do with a sick chemist?”

Bridgett laughs to herself, preparing for this to be the worst joke Spencer has ever told in his life. “What?”

“If you can’t helium, and you can’t curium, then you might as well barium.”

Bridgett snorts, keeping tight lips to prevent coffee from spilling out of her mouth. “Why are you like this?” Bridgett laughs, shaking her head.

“Hey pretty boy, Hotch needs your brain.” Derek says, throwing his bag onto his desk.

Spencer gets up from the chair, taking one more sip of coffee before leaving it on Bridgett’s desk and walking away.

Bridgett feels Derek’s eyes on her, making her turn to look at him. “What’s wrong? Did I get coffee on my shirt?” She asks, looking down at her baby pink shirt because of course she would get dirty on the day she wears something light colored.

“No. You two still love each other, that’s all.” He shrugs, smirking to himself.

“Derek.” Bridgett sighs, leaning her head back against the back of her chair dramatically.

“What? It’s true! The way you two look at each other and you act like nothing has changed. We can all see it. You’re going to sit there and tell me you don’t still love him?”

“I’m always going to love him. But he just went through something traumatic. I’m not going to force him into something he’s not ready for.”

“Have you two talked about getting back together?”

“No. The past few weeks he’s come over to my apartment and we’ve just hung out as friends. Like we used to before we slept together for the first time. Just watching movies, eating junk food, talking about life. And then he talks about Maeve and I can see how much he truly loved her and… I don’t know.”

“But you know it’s always going to be you, right? Nobody else will ever compare to you for him.” Derek says, walking over to her desk, sitting on the bare bit of desk that was clear.

Bridgett shrugs, swirling her cinnamon stick around her mug. “You know, I think a lot about if I wouldn’t have left for a year, him and I would still be together.”

“That might be the case, but you know that you needed that for yourself.”

“Needed what for yourself?” Spencer asks, making Bridgett jump as he comes up behind her.

“Christ! I’m going to give you a goddamn cat bell. Sneaking up quiet as hell.” Bridgett glaring at him.

“Needed what for yourself?” Spencer repeats, his eyes flickering between Derek and Bridgett.

“I think I hear Garcia calling.” Derek says, clearing his throat and walking away.

Bridgett gives him a tight lipped smile, “Before you repeat yourself for a third time, we were just talking about my time in New York.”

“Oh. Are you going again?”

“No! We were just talking about how I needed time to myself in New York. Sorry to tell you, you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere.” Bridgett smiles.

“Good. I’m glad.” Spencer says, taking his coffee mug back and going back to his desk across from Bridgett’s.

***

“Please? We haven’t had a celebratory girls night since you came back!” Penelope begs, following Bridgett around the office.

“Garcia!” She whines. “It’s Friday. Friday nights are my me time, catch up on all of the episodes I missed on my show, and bubble bath nights. Plus it’s not a real girls night without JJ.”

“You can do it tomorrow! And you can have all day to yourself. We can make up our girls night out with JJ when she’s all better. I just miss my best friend .” Penelope dramatically rests her head on Bridgett’s shoulder, batting her lashes at her. “I’ll pay for your drinks.”

Bridgett sighs dramatically, laying her head on Penelope’s. “Fine. Girls night.” She says, caving in.

Penelope cheers, giving Bridgett a hug.

“I heard someone say girls night?” Derek says with a smile.

“Is someone wanting to tag along?” Penelope says. “You know you can always tag along.”

“Tag along where?” Spencer chimes in from his desk.

“Girls night.” Bridgett says, organizing her desk one last time.

“Am I allowed to come?” He says with a smile.

“Of course. It wouldn’t be girls night with our best guys around.” Penelope says.

“So it’s a double date!” Penelope says, walking arm and arm with Derek.

***

“Okay my turn!” Penelope says, taking a sip from the skinny straw. “Never have I ever, eaten someone else’s lunch from the fridge, Derek Morgan.” Penelope says with a glare over at Derek.

The whole table laughs, nobody taking a drink besides Derek.

“In my defense… I don’t have a defense, I just really like that bread Bridgett makes.” He says, laughing.

“I’m really surprised Garcia didn’t kill you. I thought I saw murder in her eyes when she asked every single person in the office if they touched her conchas.” Bridgett says, taking a drink from her glass.

“I did my share of apologizing. All I had to do was make her my mom’s homemade peach cobbler and all was forgiven.”

Penelope smiles, patting Derek’s cheek with her hand.

“Alright my turn. Never have I ever, gotten busy in a car.” Derek says.

“Oh come on, Derek! Never? Lies.” Bridgett calls out to Derek from across the table.

“It’s not! I swear on my mother’s life I’ve never had sex in a car.”

Bridgett slowly raises her glass back up to her mouth and taking a drink, not making any eye contact with her other team members. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Spencer take a sip from his club soda.

“Oh my god! First it was the public sex, then gotten a bedroom related injury, now you guys are having sex in a car? Who would have thought, pretty boy is kinky.” Derek jokes, patting Spencer on the back.

Bridgett laughs, shaking her head. “Let me tell you guys something, it’s the people you least expect it from that are the most kinky.” She smiles, taking another drink.

Spencer looks over at her, widening his eyes at her, his cheeks getting a little red. “Does this mean it’s my turn?”

“Yes, but I have one I’m dying to ask.” Penelope says.

“Okay, you can have my turn.” Spencer says, motioning over to her.

“Never have I ever filmed myself or my partner getting intimate.”

Spencer and Bridgett look at each other, both of them cracking up as they lock eyes.

“Are you two serious?” Penelope asks with a smirk on her face.

“Well, someone is going to have to carry me out of here by the time we finish this game if this is the type of questions we’re asking.” Bridgett says, downing the last bit of her drink.

***

“You got her?” Derek asks, helping Spencer take Bridgett up the stairs to his apartment.

“Yeah. She’s not that drunk, but I didn’t trust her to go up the stairs.” Spencer says, putting his arm around Bridgett.

“You are both so dramatic! I’m not that trashed. You’ve seen me more drunk than this at the Christmas party in 2009.” Bridgett jokes, leaning up against the wall, waiting for Spencer to unlock his door.

Derek laughs. “Alright. I’ll see you guys Monday morning.”

Spencer unlocks his door, letting Bridgett walk in first.

She takes her jacket off instantly, dropping it onto the back of Spencer’s couch.

“Do you want some water?” He asks.

“Yeah. Please.” Bridgett nods her head, walking over to his bookshelf to see if she could find any new books he had gotten since the last time she was over. She finds one on his desk, reading the description on the back before settling with that one.

A few seconds pass, Spencer walking back into the room with a glass of ice water, knowing it was the only way she would drink it.

She smiles at him warmly, walking over to his couch and plopping herself onto the cushion.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Spencer asks, sitting next to her.

“Will you read to me?” Bridgett asks, handing him the book.

Spencer takes the book from her, “Wuthering Heights? You’ve never read it?”

“I don’t read for fun Spencer.” Bridgett laughs. She grabs the blanket draped over the back of the couch and puts it over the both of them, scooting closer to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

Spencer’s heart jumps from his chest, feeling her close to him again. He clears his throat and opens the book up to the first page. “1801, I have just returned from a visit to my landlord, the solidarity neighbor that I shall be troubled with…”

It didn't take long for Bridgett to find the peace in his voice making her fall asleep on him already. She could feel his fingers lightly touching her bare shoulder lightly, making her shiver against him. She laughs and rests her forehead into the crook of his neck.

“What?” He asks, stopping mid sentence.

“You’re tickling me.” She mutters against his skin.

Spencer laughs, kissing her forehead out of habit.

Bridgett picks her head up quickly, looking at him in the eyes. “Why did you do that?” She questions.

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, quickly closing it once he realizes he doesn’t have a response.

“No- shit- I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“It’s okay. I know I shouldn’t have but…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“Kiss me. Please.” Bridgett says, bringing her fingers into his hair and bringing him close.

“Are you sure?”

Bridgett bites her lip, shaking her head. “No.” She says, sitting up from her position.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

“I know I shouldn’t do this.”

“Shouldn’t do what?” He asks.

“Want to make out with you on the damn couch.”

Spencer stays quiet, not sure if he should say what was on his mind or not, but deciding to anyway. “Why shouldn’t you want to?”

“Because we’ve been doing so well the past few months not being a couple and having sex ever 3 seconds. We’ve been doing well going back to being friends while you’re still grieving over… over Maeve. But it’s just, we’ve been doing so well being friends, that after tonight, where we were laughing and reminiscing about our past, it made me realize how good things were and how much I missed being your girlfriend. And I know you’re not ready for that yet, but I can’t help but want you to ju-,”

Spencer sits up quickly, his hand flying up to cup both sides of her face as he kisses her passionately. Bridgett’s mind takes a few seconds to register that they were kissing before her lips got the memo to join in on the kiss finally. Her hands start to unbutton the buttons to his button up shirt, pushing the red fabric off his shoulders and completely off his body. Spencer’s hands drop down to her waist, pushing her lightly to lay down on the couch. Their lips don’t move from each other’s as Spencer holds one of her thighs against his side. Everything about their kiss was desperate and passionate; the way his hands traveled up and down her hips and her thigh, the way Bridgett clung onto Spencer’s shoulders as they kissed. Spencer drops his head between Bridgett’s neck, sucking on her skin.

“Spence.” Bridgett whimpers, holding his head against her neck. She brings her hips up to grind her pants against his, moaning at the friction.

“Do you want me to keep going?” He asks, bringing her hips back down to the cushion.

Bridgett looks into his eyes, sighing deeply. “Yes. Please just touch me.” She begs, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Spencer sits up, grabbing Bridgett’s hips and pulling her back up and into his lap.

“Is this okay with you? All of this?” She asks, resting her hands on his chest.

“Yes it’s okay.” He smiles softly at her, going back into a kiss.

Both of their hands are busy undoing each other’s buttons of their shirts, Spencer getting hers done more quickly than her. It had been so long since they had been together sexually that it made Bridgett self conscious to be half naked in front of him again.

She feels his eyes look down her body, immediately grabbing his face to keep his head up to look at her.

“What?” Spencer questions.

“Nothing… just- I’m not comfortable right now with you looking.” She says, motioning down to her stomach.

“Bridgy, you know how much I love all of you, right? Even the parts you hate the most.”

“I know. It’s just been a while.” Bridgett laughs nervously, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Spencer’s fingers trail down Bridgett’s spine, making her sit up straight and shiver. She giggles, resting her forehead on his.

“I want you back, Bridge. I want you to be my girlfriend again.”

“Are you sure? You’re still grieving, Spence. I don’t want you to think you have to do this.”

“It’s always going to be you, Bridgett. I could have an endless amount of relationships, but I would always come back to you. You’re the love of my life.” Spencer lovingly looks into her eyes, taking in the sight of her. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” Bridgett says, going back in for a kiss.

“I can taste the alcohol on your mouth.” Spencer laughs, licking his lips.

“There’s something else I want you to taste.” Bridgett says with a devilish smirk.

Spencer laughs, his eyes squinting together as he does so. “You get more raunchy when you’re tipsy.”

“You like it.”

*** “I can’t anymore. I’m still buzzed and now my whole body is buzzing because of you.” Bridgett whines, laying flat on the floor.

Three times. They had gone at it three times in a span of two hours. For the better part of an hour, Spencer spent his time between Bridgett’s legs, licking, sucking and rubbing her clit over and over, drawing four mind blowing orgasms from her. He could eat her out like nobody’s business, and he was always more than happy to perform. And he never left her without making her cum at least a two time minimum.

Spencer smirks, helping Bridgett up off the floor to go to his bedroom. “Come on, it’s almost 5 in the morning. Time for bed.”

Bridgett makes a beeline to the bathroom, turning the shower on and washing her body off quickly. When she pulls back the curtain to the shower she sees Spencer standing there in his sweatpants low on his hip with no shirt on, his collarbone covered in hickies and his chest decorated with scratch marks. Bridgett smirks to herself seeing his pale skin covered in marks she left on him.

He hands her a towel and hands her an outfit that was hers.

“You kept the stuff I left here?” Bridgett asks with a smile, taking it from him.

“Yeah, your sleep stuff, an outfit for work, your makeup bag and everything else you kept in those two drawers in my dresser. It was still good stuff, I didn’t want to throw it out and I didn’t really want to give it back either.”

Bridgett smiles and quickly dresses herself. “I hope you know that this means that I’m never leaving you alone again. You’re stuck with me for life.” She says, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Spencer chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I hope you know that even if you tried, I would follow you to the ends of this earth to be with you.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She responds, kissing his chin.

“The team is going to be thrilled we’re finally back together. Derek and Garcia can finally stop trying to get us back together every 6 seconds.”

Bridgett turns to look up at him, a question on her mind. “Do you think this was part of Garcia’s plan to get us back together? It was her idea for ‘girls night’, her idea to play the game.”

Spencer chuckles. “You know, it does all add up. And she can’t lie, do that’ll be question one on Monday.”

#Spencer Reid #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid smut fic #spencer reid series #spencer reid x oc character #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fluff #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler fan fiction #matthew gray gubler fan fic #part of you fic

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foolscapper · 3 years

Text

Someplace Warmer, Someplace Safer - (How the Wild Things Start Universe)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not edited/beta'd, so please forgive any rough spots! I'll be cleaning it up and posting it on ao3 at a later time! This also takes place after How the Wild Things Start, and is based on a request sent in by @saintedjack -- thank you!

WARNINGS: PTSD responses, MENTION OF CHILD ABUSE (SEXUAL), please tread carefully if that's hard for you!

In the year of our Lord 2020, Sam Winchester didn't think that Christmas would feel so much less... sore of a spot. Maybe that's because he's practiced a handful of Christmases with Leia and Lilly now and has realized with some clarity that holidays can sometimes be about as good as the number of kids who get excited over it. When it was just him and Dean, it was a coupla beers and memories of little kids who sat in hotel rooms waiting for their parent — singular. Now Lilly is coloring pictures of reindeer and eagerly reminding Dean of what she wants for the hundredth time. ("Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean grumbles, without even the smallest bit of heat to it, "How could I forget when you drew it on my bedroom wall?") Meanwhile, Leia's fourteen, so the appeal of a 'Santa Claus' isn't really there for her; she and Sam are too alike on that front, having lost whatever magic Christmas would've had when they were very little. But she loves that Lilly loves it. She helps her hang up tinsel and all those basic holiday ornaments around the bunker. When Sam and Dean are out to get the kitsune her dietary needs, she prays to Castiel, makes him trek all the way to Lebanon — just so she can ask him to drive her to the rental box in front of the liquor store for holiday films. Anyway, uh. Sam feels... good. He feels good about it. About Christmas.

First time in forever, he knows, but things evolve over time, right?

Whatever makes them happy makes him happy, and it doesn't help that Dean's starting to get into a bit of a frantic holiday mood himself when he realizes Cas and Leia rented National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation. With one girl on either side of him, his brother chatters on and on about classics, movies like A Christmas Story and the Grinch, and Sam can only roll his eyes in good humor and sound fondness. It's a good day. He hasn't had a nightmare in days — hasn't slept-walked in almost as long (not that it stops Dean from keeping the front door locked, so Sam can't wander out again and scare the shit out of them). It's the day before Christmas, though, and there's plenty of cereal, boxed mac 'n cheese and canned Chef Boyardee, but absolutely nothing that rightfully belongs on a dinner table for the holidays. "I'll be back; just gonna pick up some stuff," he says, while the three are in the middle of Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana, Mr. Grinch, with the greasy black peel-. Dean snaps out of the trance that had made him 10-years-old for a moment and looks critically at Sam; Lilly doesn't look away from the television, but Leia's sharp gaze shoots to Sam at the same time as Dean's. Dean says, "You sure you don't want us to go, too?" And Sam waves it off. Waves both of them off, since Leia's trying so hard to judge him under her bangs "I'll be fine. Just hitting the grocery for something that works for tomorrow. Please try not to feed them straight sugar while I'm gone?" "Yes, honey," Dean huffs, but there's some hesitance in the way he turns to look back at the TV. He couldn't really blame him, considering what shitty lucky they had apart. Or, well... considering the guilt that still festers in Dean like old, greenish wounds. Sam knows it's there every time his brother glances at pale scars intersecting on his arms, or when he manages to rouse him from a bad dream, or when Sam spaces out at the dinner table until something startles him to attention. Sam's screwed up, and Dean's still gnawing at his own leg for letting it happen. ... Shit happens. Sam tries not to think about it anymore than he has to, because it's not like the muscle memory ever goes away, nor those phantom smells or those reels of the monster rings. No, no, he's not going to think about it. Because today's a good day. It's a good week. He takes the keys to the truck he's kept to himself, makes a mental note to call Castiel and see if he'll stop by for visiting. The air outside is cold and bitterly unfair to the lungs, but he tugs his jacket tighter around himself and wills the old truck AC to start heating him back up. The drive isn't far, and the people at the place he's driving to know him well enough. He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing, especially now that they see him changed so drastically; he's pretty sure Dean just tells them all he'd gotten deployed somewhere and ended up hurt, or something. Sam doesn't bother figuring out the cover story, because he's not ever going to be in the mood to talk about it with Joey Behind the Counter or Leticia Stocking the Shelves, no matter how much he likes them. The bell to the store rings, they wave him in, ask him about his plans for the holidays, tell him all about their kids — he surprises himself by talking about his own, albeit vaguely, because you never know who is truly safe. And even though he has little to no skill in hearty, holiday feasts, he knows the basics from television: cranberry sauce, turkey, stuffing, eggnog, so on and so on. Despite his complaint to Dean not to overfeed the kids on sweets, he ends up grabbing two boxes of themed cookies, too. It's not until he walks out the front door that he feels something's off. He'd never claim to still have the powers he did at age 22, but — the hairs on his neck stand up, goosebumps running along his arms beneath his thick coat. It's hard to say what even caused it; there's nobody around. He glances uneasily left and right, and then makes a slow, cautious walk toward the parking around the corner. His heart thumps in his chest and his mind plays cruel games with him: what if it's a hunter coming for him? Looking for him and his family, after what happened at their old cabin? It hasn't been that long. "Hello," a little, polite voice chirps from seemingly out of nowhere. Sam nearly leaps out of his skin, teeth snapping together as he turns in a fraction of a second — ready to fight, dropping his grocery bags as his hand reaches around the back of him. (Bright lights, feral howls of pain, blood on dirt and black eyed spectators-) His breath catches at the startled teenager with sandy-blonde hair standing in front of him. He's dressed in clothes he's clearly worn for a long time, the knitting on his gloves and cap frayed. The smell of an alleyway greets Sam belatedly, and shame creeps into his face when he realizes just what he's actually looking at here: some homeless kid whose smile has faded into a look of uncertainty. Wanted a buck, but ended up with some over-sized freak having an episode at him. "S—sorry," Sam chokes out. He's trying not to let himself get pulled under, but the lights have... always been so bright. The kid seems appeased by the way Sam steps back, though, and moves to rather calmly start collecting the fallen goods from the ground; for a moment, Sam wonders if he's just gonna take them for the trouble, but the boy starts putting them back into the brown paper bags they'd come in. "It's fine. I must be scarier than I thought." It's said in such an easy way, and he looks up with a kind, gap-toothed smile. "I was going to ask if you could spare some money, but I can see now that I should have made my presence more obvious." ... That's a way for a teenaged boy to put it. It reminds Sam of a particular angel of Thursday and his straightforward, over-complicated way of talk. With a somewhat forced smile, he bends down to quickly collect what the kid hasn't. "No, no, I'm — I'm good at being on edge. It wasn't you. Sorry for... that." He's not sure how to put it. He has a hard time remembering how to talk to people, sometimes. There's something particularly distracting about this one, though. Maybe it's the fact that he's so youthful, covered in dirt and red in the nose. Looks at him like how Leia had — with the hope that Sam can help him. Or is he just projecting? He pinches the bridge of his nose, smiling tiredly. "What's your name, kid?" The boy says, almost proudly, "Jack." "... Um, well. Jack. I'm Sam. It's good to meet you. I think you deserve something nice for not thinking I'm a total weirdo, so... if you wanna carry a bag to the truck for me, I've got some cookies and dollars to offer you?" It feels kind of demeaning in a way, like he's giving the poor kid some basic task to 'earn' what Sam'll give him. But Jack just nods and walks along side him. "Thanks, Sam," Jack says. He says Sam's name like he's testing out the weight of it, forming it carefully in his mouth. Despite Jack's appearance, he radiates something... well, something. It's warmer than the weather. "Where are you from, Jack?" Sam asks, tilting his chin forward to look down. His voice is softer, more careful. "From everywhere," Jack says, and looks over at Sam. "I honestly don't know. I've just always been... like this." "... Homeless?" Sam offers. Jack cocks his head to the side, gazing ahead of them. "Homeless. Yes." It's not a long walk, so it's not like there's much more to talk about before they reach the old truck. They load up the groceries, and Sam provides one box of cookies (in this case, the box that is less crushed from falling on the asphalt). It feels like a meager kind of offering, all things considered. "Here — I mean, if you like sweets. I bought way too many, so... Um. And — " "I like cookies," Jack says as a matter-of-factly. "Thank you, Sam." Doesn't feel good enough, though. Sam gnaws his lip and feels... some sort of way about all this. Like he's doing something the wrong way, here. Leia and Lilly have ruined him for life. "Where are you heading, anyway? Do you live in town? I've never seen you here before." Jack's already got the box of cookies wrenched open, and he's eating them too fast, a lot like how Sam used to eat his rations when he lived in a cage, in the dark. Sam's already predicting that he's gonna get sick, and he can't really hide the wince as the crumbs start to collect on Jack's old jacket. Jack looks like he's unsure how to answer, not for the first time. "I'm just moving around. I have nowhere to be, as long as it's — " He struggles for the right word. "Safe." "Safe," Sam says. Jack nods with a mouthful. "Shafe," he says. Sams hands twitch nervously at the thought of sending the boy away with his 'rewards'. Whatever the hell cookies constitute as, anyway. It's not safe out there, that's for sure. It's gonna be below freezing for a while in Lebanon, and — He sighs softly. No... No, it's not smart. Not smart to being a stray into a house full of supernatural lore books, weapons, monster children. He would freak out. He'd panic and he'd know where they live, and he could tell anyone with an ear open about where a guy named Sam lives with his odd little family. But... "You want me to drive you somewhere? I mean, there should be a homeless shelter around here somewhere, if you need somewhere a little less... this." He gestures to the world around them, swathed in a fine layer of snow. Jack seems mildly uncertain, a crooked line of uncertainty to his lips. Sam recognizes maybe he looks like he's one-half a serial killer in his plaid, with his weird flinching and nervousness. "You don't have to, but... I don't want you to freeze out here." After a moment, Jack does seem to relent; nobody likes to be cold, and Sam could tell even if he was handling it well, it was not a pleasant experience he wants to endure any longer than he has to. So he nods at last, and Sam nods to the passenger seat. "Climb aboard, then. I think I remember the street and everything; you'll be warm in no time. And, uh. We can get you something better than cookies, actually." "I don't know what can be better than cookies," Jack replies, sliding into the passenger seat, "But I'm willing to consider it." The truck stutters to life, and Sam makes a beeline for the nearest Taco Bell there is. Cheap, but you get a hell of a lot with a little; he and Dean were no stranger to that particular drive-thru back in the day, when Dean was too tired to eat expired food and Sam was too tired to go buy himself a decent salad and sandwich. The Helping Hands Homeless Shelter is a good distance, so Sam learns a few things in-between Jack scarfing down burritos and soft tacos: he's fourteen or fifteen (he thinks?; Sam's mortified by the thought of him being on his own all this time), his mother died when he was born, he's not sure where his father is, and he's always been moving. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts, nobody that he's familiar with. Once the last wrapper is thrown on the floorboard as designated, though, Jack looks uneasy. "... Is this 'a trade'?" Sam glances over, brow furrowed. "A what?" "A trade," Jack reaffirms, and his eyes — glance down, towards Sam's crotch. Sam feels like he's going to puke, his stomach twisting and heart lurching. He almost slams on the brakes then and there, in the middle of the street, but he manages to avoid doing anything so fucking stupid as to scare the kid. Sam and Dean have both had their fair share of close calls growing up — Sam's had to scream at peeping toms through hotel windows, or weird men at gas stations who keep sizing them up while they read magazines, or — But. But they both had rules, and Dean always had an extra eye out on him. The thought of — the implication of it, it makes his blood boil, rushing in his ears. He thinks of Lilly and Leia and — Sam's been quiet too long. So Jack speaks up again. "It's alright. I don't do anything if they don't ask first. If they don't have something to give me," Jack says, confidently, and Sam wants to scream. "No," Sam manages, voice tight. "No, that's not okay. Anyone who asks something like that, they're monsters, do you understand me? They're evil, and you shouldn't trust them. Not for a second." Jack leans back more comfortably in his seat, confused — but glad. Sam's hands are itching for a blade and someone to hunt. A monster in a ring to rip into. He breathes out instead and looks at the road. It doesn't take long before Jack finds himself tired of the quiet, though, and his gaze moves to Sam's wrists, instead. His hands. The sliver of arm that peaks out under his sleeve. "What happened to your hands?" he asks, innocently. Concerned. Sam's shoulders sag, like the kid has gone and popped that balloon full of rage. "... Monsters hurt me, too," he says weakly, because he figures the kid deserves the truth. "A different kind of monster, but monsters all the same." Jack reaches over, and Sam startles at the hand cupping over his damaged knuckles. "I'm sorry," Jack says. "About the monsters." Sam kind of wants to cry, honestly. "Me, too." He was supposed to get a Christmas dinner, in and out of the store, nothing more to it. He was supposed to just give the kid some money and maybe a snack. He's supposed to just drop him off somewhere a little warmer and safer. (Leia looked at him like a hero, once, like he was going to swoop in and save her; Jack isn't looking at him like that, though; he's just a guy giving him a ride and cookies). Sam's phone rings. He doesn't need to look to know it'll say DEAN in white letters on the screen. Just a minute 'til they get to the shelter. (You're not a hero, you barely managed to protect your girls, he reminds himself.) "Sam?" Jack asks. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. (But Leia looks at him like he’s a superhero. A shaking, high, rabid superhero, hopped up on demon blood, with hands so tense and locked, they look like claws in the darkness. And beside her — a crying boy, a few years younger than her. There’s a burn on his leg, a shake of his shoulders. Worst of all, there’s skin sloughed off around him, and it’s only then that Sam realizes the boy looks different than he had an hour before. A shifter? A small, scared shifter. Like Glenda had been.) He pulls over on the side of the road. Reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieves the phone with a shaking hand. When he answers Dean and hears his brother asking nervously what's taking him so long, he can't help but look at Jack. Jack, who is looking at him with an uneasy amount of trust. How he has it, Sam's not fucking sure, but he feels like he has to do this. (He thinks of two little girls, holding hands as they watch Christmas cartoons.) "I — I'm bringing someone back with me," he manages. "His name is Jack, and he — needs a place to stay, for a little while." He does a u-turn, driving toward the bunker as snow begins to fall once again, soft, delicate. Jack looked awed, still looks awed. He looks at Sam like this was destiny. Fate. Something. "I thought so." "... You thought what?" Jack smiles slowly with that warm, gap-toothed smile. "That something about you, it felt like an angel."

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfiction #sam winchester #jack kline #dean winchester #cw child abuse mention #cw csa mention #cw ptsd descriptions #how the wild things start #myspnfanfic

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