#finding out that I had both of these RIGHT next to each other was such a funny experience

[yuramour]

I THINK HE KNOWS — F1 GRID

synopsis. trying to keep your crush on a certain driver a secret isn't exactly easy. but do they know about it, or not? pairing. f1 grid x reader (ft. mv1, yt22, ln4, op81, gr63, cl16, lh44, dr3, aa23, cs55, ih6, jd7, eo31, ka12, ob87) genre. fluff, headcanons warnings. mild secondhand embarrassment, maybe some suggestive themes, mostly coworker!reader, some of these are noticeably longer than others. my bad word count. 3k-ish (200-ish each)

note. this slowly devolves into silliness. alsoooooo, im tryna have a more consistent upload schedule, but i did just get a job and im taking online classes over the summer, so like, its hard to find the time to actually sit down and write. i'm trying, tho!! hope you guys enjoy this one :p

MAX VERSTAPPEN

۶ৎ completely oblivious

of course, it was glaringly obvious to everyone but max. everyone else saw the way you immediately stopped whatever you were working on to stare at him whenever he wandered into the red bull garage. ever since you started working for red bull as an analyst, you had the biggest crush on max. at first, it was just a harmless thing, blushing whenever he was in your general vicinity, your coworkers giggling and elbowing you whenever he walked into the room. the teasing from your coworkers was really the most annoying part at first. but now? the most annoying part by far was how max was just apparently totally oblivious to the fact that you liked him. you weren't even keeping it a secret anymore like you were at the beginning. you'd all but asked him out at this point. but he had absolutely no idea. it wasn't until charles teased him about how you stared at him during the driver's parade that max realized. it took him aback at first, but trust he'd never felt more dumb than when he realized you were in fact hitting on him all that time. asks you out the next time he sees you.

YUKI TSUNODA

۶ৎ has a suspicion

he could be wrong- maybe. but for the past several months, yuki's had a feeling that all those times you've brushed against him in the hallway, stared just a little too long during team debriefs, and laughed a little too hard at his jokes meant you saw him as a little more than just a coworker. it's hard for him to keep to himself- you haven't actually said anything that would indicate that you like him, so he doesn't want to bring it up. which sucks for him, because he really likes you, too. the way your hand feels on him when you pat him on the back after a race, the way your voice sounds when wishing him luck, the way your eyes soften when they meet his- it gives him butterflies. but he doesn't want to tell you. maybe he's just scared of rejection- because what if he's wrong? what if you don't actually like him? you have to be the one to tell him first. his imposter syndrome refuses to let him make the first move. he's elated when you do- a grin breaking over his face, a soft "i knew it" slipping from his lips.

LANDO NORRIS

۶ৎ thinks you hate him

maybe it's just the way you show affection- but lando thinks you can be a little...mean. not just a little mean- really mean. lando genuinely thinks you hate his guts. the way you refuse to make eye contact with him, the way you practically flee the room whenever he enters- he's convinced you have something against him. lando's a sensitive soul, he can take things a little personally. and you're perfectly content letting lando think you hate him if it means he never finds out ab out your stupid little crush. on another note, lando's absolutely flabbergasted when oscar makes a passing comment about your little crush on him- leaving both of them confused; lando because he was convinced you hated him, and oscar because he thought your crush was so blatant. oscar was right, of course. you just have a rather elementary way of navigating your crushes on people. lando practically corners you about it the next day, your violent blush and stuttering at the sudden confrontation telling him all he needed to know. he asks you out properly and nicely after that.

OSCAR PIASTRI

۶ৎ he knows but you have no idea he knows

oscar clocked your crush immediately. he's an observant guy. but he's so incredibly normal about it. you have absolutely no idea that he knows. the thing is, he thinks he's being obvious about liking you back. he'll open doors for you, give you his coat when you're cold, open energy drink cans for you, and he thinks it's incredibly obvious. the problem? you just think he's the kind of guy that'd do all that stuff anyway. because he's just so relaxed with it. it goes on for MONTHS. you both thinking you're being plainly obvious about your feelings for each other, and oscar just simply not wanting to be the one to make the first move. lando eventually knocks some sense into him- telling him to just ask you out because you're obviously not going to be the one to initiate it. as soon as he does, you're taken aback- not having expected oscar to be into you, too. but of course he was. how could he not be?

CHARLES LECLERC

۶ৎ thinks its all platonic

charles thinks that you're just a good friend- his best friend. doing things that all best friends do. of course a best friend would drop everything because he asked you to go out and do something. of course a best friend would go out of their way to come to all his races. of course best friends hug each other for extended periods of time after a bad race. he thinks you're just his best friend. because none of his other friends really do things like that- you must just be that good of a friend! right? no. of course not. you are head over heels in love with charles and you always have been. and he's never noticed. to be fair, you didn't exactly want him to. you were scared of the rejection you'd face if he ever found out. he's the charles leclerc. why would he go for you? even if you were his best friend. funny enough, it's his mother that ends up spilling your secret. charles thinks she's just joking at first, but once he realizes she's not, he's absolutely mortified. not only because he never realized it, but because he's felt the same about you for years, thinking you only saw his as a friend. calls you over immediately and confesses everything.

LEWIS HAMILTON

۶ৎ he knows, but doesn't say a word

lewis, ever the gentleman, notices your crush immediately, but chooses to keep it a secret. because you obviously don't want him to know about it, otherwise, you wouldn't be keeping it a secret. he thinks its charming more than anything. completely endeared by the way you immediately blush and look away whenever he makes eye contact, scurrying away like a little mouse whenever he ever so politely asks you to do even the most miniscule task. he didn't have any feelings for you at first- but the more time he spends observing you, the way you interact with others, your kindness, your individuality, he falls for you slowly but surely. you know lewis is a good man, so when he asks you to go to dinner with him, you think it's just to show his thanks to you for being such a hard worker. when he tells you how he feels about you, you feel like you're about to melt out of sheer embarrassment. lewis watches the blush take over your face with a soft laugh, your reaction reminding lewis exactly why he liked you in the first place.

GEORGE RUSSELL

۶ৎ thinks it's just a joke

even if you are so completely blatantly obvious about having a crush on george, he just thinks you're kidding. any time you openly flirt with him, he just laughs along and takes it as a joke. it gets to a point where you're all but telling him to his face that you're in love with him, and he's just like "haha, good one!" straight up, for a man that's so in love with himself, you think he'd be able to take a hint. but no. he's blind to the truth. and he's like this for MONTHS. you are LAYING IT ON, and he just does not understand that you are being 100% for real. only gets it when you literally corner him and tell him blatantly to his face that you are genuinely actually into him. he's both flabbergasted and overjoyed bc this rich boy gets zero play.

KIMI ANTONELLI

۶ৎ he has NO idea

silly silly boy. despite the fact that you've followed him around the world since you were kids, been by his side the entire time, through his best and worst days. he just doesn't see it. and you'd never tell him, of course. you value your friendship too much to ruin it over a stupid little (not little at all) crush. but still. who tf basically puts their entire life on hold to follow their best friend around the world? either someone who's in love, or someone who's just that good of a friend. in your case, it's the former. but unfortunately, kimi thinks you're the latter. he doesn't even realize he's in love with you until he's talking about you to ollie one day, just absolutely gushing about you and ollie's just listening like "...😐 you're stupid." after kimi realizes how he feels, he tries to keep it to himself, but accidentally lets it slip out one day while talking to you. to his ABSOLUTE SHOCK (idk how it was a shock he's lowkey blind), you feel the same about him.

ALEX ALBON

۶ৎ he knows & is very obvious about it

he KNOWSSSS. AND YOU KNOW HE KNOWSSSSS. unfortunately, as an employee for Williams, you know that dating a driver is looked down upon at the VERY LEAST. so despite the fact that you keep it as professional as possible, any and every time you so much as make eye contact with alex, this mf giggles. like, actually giggles. like a middle schooler. you don't even really know how he knows. but you suspect that carlos told him after you let it slip to him one day that you thought alex was cute. but nevertheless, you never let your interactions go beyond relaying basic information and wishing him luck before a race. but one weekend, you and alex end up with you hotel rooms booked right next to each other, somehow leading to alex basically living in your room all weekend. after that, it's all longing stares across the garage and holding hands in secret.

CARLOS SAINZ

۶ৎ totally blind to it

i think he just likes to think that you're a very kind and respectful person. like, he says jump and you ask how high, type shit. despite the fact that you try to keep it a secret at first, you realize that he is truly never going to get it unless you start like, actually putting the moves on this man. he thinks you're just a really nice person until one day it just slaps him in the face that you're literally obsessed with him, and he just feels SO stupid bc of it. like, you are all but offering to literally become his personal maid and he hasn't realized until now??? not very smooth operator of him. when he suddenly starts flirting back to you, you realize the vibe switchup IMMEDIATELY and you know he's clocked you</3 he asks you out on a casual coffee date at a cute quiet little cafe and it's very sweet and fluffy and eughhhh i hate (love) him so much.

ISACK HADJAR

۶ৎ again, thinks you hate him

poor baby thinks you getting red in the face and cutting the conversation off early whenever he tries to talk to you is indicative of you hating him and not of you getting flustered by his mere presence. he's pacing back and forth wondering what he could have possibly done to make you hate him, meanwhile you're in the other room pacing back and forth wondering how the hell you're ever going to be able to tell him you're basically in love with him. isack eventually decides to just be as nice as possible; getting you coffee, doing his best to make your job easier for you, complimenting you whenever he notices you've done your hair differently or whatever. unfortunately, this may or may not make things worse bc you have no idea how to take a compliment and just mumble a "thanks" and immediately leave the room whenever he does so. eventually, one of your coworkers talks some sense into you and convinces you to tell isack how you feel. shocked and elated don't even come close to describing how isack feels when you finally confess to him. relationship immediately starts from there, and he's basically obsessed with you and giving you allllll the words of affirmation.

JACK DOOHAN

۶ৎ thinks its just "bestie vibes"

again. stupid boy. stupid dumb boy. let me set the scene; you and jack have in fact been best friends for as long as you can remember. you weren't even into him at first, but after not seeing him for a while, and all of a sudden, he comes back as an accomplished formula driver, not to mention he's like, half a foot taller and significantly more ripped than he was the last time you saw him, something definitely changed in the way you looked at him. but of course sweet oblivious jack is just happy to hang out with his best friend again after so long. the two of you take a trip to the beach not too long after he gets back, and you have to physically stop yourself from staring at his abs for too long. ofc he just thinks you're looking at him so longingly bc you missed your best friend (him) so bad. that same night, the two of you get a little drunk and you accidentally call him hot to his face. oops! he thought about it for a solid ten seconds before he realized that he, in the back of his mind, thought the same about you. i just love this himbo so bad okay :(

OLLIE BEARMAN

۶ৎ he WANTS you to, but has no idea

to ollie, you were just so fucking cool. always so poised, level-headed, always cool under pressure. and he was absolutely head-over-heels for you. he practically followed you around like a lost puppy everywhere you went. not just because he's always getting lost at social events, but because he wanted to be near you as much as he physically could. to ollie, you were totally and completely out of his league. he wanted so badly for you to notice him as more than the guy that you were getting paid to basically babysit and make sure he doesn't say anything stupid to the media. little did he know, you'd been charmed by his cute smile, sweet demeanor, and puppy-like tendencies since the day you met him. he thinks he's seeing things when he starts noticing the blush that creeps up on your cheeks whenever he says something sweet. "wishful thinking" he tells himself. he swears he's dreaming when you knock on his hotel room one night and say that you have a secret to tell him. and he practically dies from happiness when he wakes up the next morning with a text from you confirming that you meant it when you told him you liked him.

ESTEBAN OCON

۶ৎ he's SUSPICIOUS of you

what do you want from him?? why are you so nice to him? what are you planning?? are you, the sweet alpine employee that says hi to him every morning in the paddock with that cute little smile spying on haas for your team??? he notices the way you come to the haas mobile home to "visit your friend" that works for the team. every time you wish him luck on the race in passing, he narrows his eyes and nods curtly, suspicious of the way you always happen to bump into him. little does he know, he keeps seeing you around because you have the biggest crush on him. you're close with a couple of the guys on the haas pit crew, and they've been trying for months to get esteban to notice you. which he has. just not in the way that you hoped. it all comes to a head when esteban relays his suspicion to your friends on the haas team, all of whom are absolutely flabbergasted that that's the conclusion he came to. they couldn't possibly let him go on thinking that. esteban is completely floored when they tell him you're always hanging around not because you're spying for alpine, but because you have a crush on him. immediately pulls you aside the next time he sees you and apologizes for being so unwelcoming towards you. he takes you out for an apologetic dinner, and realizes you're actually really great :p

DANIEL RICCIARDO

۶ৎ he knows and you know he knows

not only does he very obviously know, he teases you about it. you're too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of telling him flat-out how you feel. that's exactly what he wants. so you let him tease you, taking the shit-eating grins, flirtatious jokes, and the way he gets just a little too close for comfort in stride. you absolutely refuse to give him any kind of confirmation when he leans in, going "come on, i know you like me a little bit." it gets to a point where he's gotten on your nerves so much, you're not even sure if you even like him anymore or if you're just so stubborn, you can't even admit it to yourself anymore. it goes on for literal years. you think it's finally over when daniel leaves red bull. finally, you can let go of your stupid crush and live the rest of your life in peace knowing you won't have to deal with the australian ever again. but no. of course not. despite the fact that he was now in renault, he would come sidling up to the red bull mobile home just to flash you that shit-eating grin with a painfully flirty "how you doing?" all that time while he was in red bull, the possibility that he liked you back hadn't even crossed your mind. you thought he was just kind of a dick, teasing you for being into him. turns out, he was just waiting for the moment you weren't working for the same team so he could ask you out properly. "surprised" doesn't even begin to cover how you were feeling after he told you after the 2019 season was over.

taglist: @bear-yawns @revelauver

[holdinsteddie]

prompt: lollipop

(originally posted on my bluesky here)

au where Steve and Robin had their bathroom floor conversation/platonic soulmate initiation ceremony way back in 1983, like two weeks after Jonathan rocked Steve’s shit and by the time everyone gets back from winter break they’ve become SteveandRobin.

Steve knows all about Robin’s crush on Tammy Thompson and Robin knows all about the fact that Steve thinks one Eddie Munson is really pretty, actually, when he’s not being a grubby little gremlin.

In this au, Steve and Nancy mutually broke it off after the whole monster-fighting thing and so for the next few months after break, SteveandRobin try to wingman each other but also the ‘you rule/you suck’ board makes an appearance, this time in an unused corner of the band room.

So far Steve hasn’t gotten a single tally in the ‘you rule’ column. He is deeply offended by this and is trying to figure out why he seems to have lost his mojo. He needs to prove to Robin that he is very suave, actually, and no, his reputation is not a fluke. Jesus.

Which leads us to a Thursday evening in late May where band practice is getting out at the same time as Hellfire club. Steve suddenly finds himself being possessed by the ghost of Casanova himself or something because the next thing he knows, he’s abandoning Robin with a quick “be right back” and swaggering up to Eddie, who eyes Steve warily before leaning up against the side of the school building with a smirk paired with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve starts, keeping it causal.

Eddie pulls the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth with a wet pop and Steve fervently doesn’t have any feelings about that whatsoever.

“Steve Harrington,” he purrs. “What can this lowly peasant do for such esteemed royalty as yourself, hmm?”

Steve raises a single eyebrow. “Well, first of all, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly Hawkins High royalty anymore. Apparently jocks and band geeks can’t be friends,” Steve adds with a roll of his eyes.

“Second of all…” Steve glances left and right, making sure there’s no one in earshot before giving Eddie a once-over and taking a deliberate step forward so the toes of their shoes are almost touching. “I think we both know you’re too pretty and too smart to be stuck as a peasant.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide for a moment before narrowing, his dimpled grin somehow managing to be sharp as a knife. “Careful, big boy. You don’t wanna play this game.”

“Who says this is a game?”

Eddie scoffs, putting his lollipop back in his mouth and straightening like he’s going to move past Steve, but Steve stops him with a hand to the wall behind Eddie’s head.

He makes sure to leave enough room for Eddie to be able to walk away if he really wants to, doesn’t want him to feel trapped or pressured in any way. But he also wants Eddie to know he’s being serious.

“Look, you can tell me to fuck off if you really want, and I will, swear to god.”

Eddie stares at him with wide eyes and slowly nods his head.

“But I really hope you don’t,” Steve continues, leaning forward until their noses are just inches from touching, “because it turns out I really have a thing for curly-headed nerds.”

Steve relishes in the way Eddie’s jaw drops open and a blush works its way over his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. It’s really fucking cute.

“I know I can’t exactly wine-and-dine you like if you were a girl, but maybe I could get us some pizza and beers and you could come over to my place one of these days?”

Steve raises his eyebrows, trying to only let a little bit of his excitement at the idea through — he doesn’t want to scare Eddie off.

Eddie stares for a moment, two. Eventually, he blurts, “Is— Is this— Are you being serious right now?” He hadn’t bothered to take out the lollipop before speaking, seems like he’s completely frozen, actually, making the question slightly garbled.

“As a heart attack.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“So?” Steve asks, biting his lower lip. He watches Eddie track the movement and gives himself a mental high-five.

“I’m— fuck, okay.” Eddie looks at Steve’s lips again before looking into his eyes incredulously. “I’m pretty sure this is a dream, but whatever, fuck it, I’ll go on a date with Steve goddamn Harrington, I guess.”

“Not dreaming,” Steve grins, finally leaning back a little bit. “And I’m gonna hold you to that,” he promises. On a whim, he reaches out and plucks Eddie’s lollipop from between his lips before placing it in his own mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. Eddie’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he visibly swallows.

“Uh.”

“I’ll find you at lunch tomorrow, figure out what day works,” Steve says casually, leaning back and starting to walk backwards towards the parking lot. He points the lollipop at Eddie and commands, “Better not stand me up, Munson,” before putting it back in his mouth, shoving his hands in his pockets, and turning to walk back to where Robin is waiting by his car.

He doesn’t look back, even though he really really wants to, because he still wants to make sure he looks cool and aloof.

“Steven Marie,” Robin whisper yells once he’s close enough to hear her. “What the fuck was that? What did you do to Munson?”

Steve ignores her questions. “What’s he doing, Bobbie?”

Robin, bless her, answers him. “He’s just… standing there. And now he’s pulling his hair over his face and squatting. Did you break him?”

Steve grins, pleased. “Not yet.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Wait, where did you get the lollipop? You didn’t have one a few minutes ago.”

“I might’ve stolen it from Munson, right after I got him to agree to go on a date with me.”

Robin freezes, staring at him like she’s buffering as her entire worldview gets rearranged. “Steve, Stevie, I need you to know I’m so happy for you and proud of you. But also I am going to actually strangle you to death in your sleep what the actual fuck.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

+ Bonus:

Steve, 5 min later after he’s started driving to drop Robin off at home: ohmygod. Robin.

Robin: What.

Steve: Eddie and I basically kissed.

Robin: What?????

Steve: His spit is in my mouth as we speak.

Robin: wHAT??!!!?!!!

Steve: Robin stop screaming I’m having a crisis

{send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil steddie microfic for you! (it will almost certainly be much shorter than this one but who knows, i might get Inspired™️)}

[jo-com]

pls alex albon fic next🙏🤞parang awa mo na teh

──★ ｡🫧⋆｡˚ The Backup Plan

Alex Albon x Fem!Reader

୨ৎ Summary: You’ve had a long-standing pact with Alex: If you’re both still single by 30, you’ll marry each other...You’re engaged to someone else now… until Alex drunkenly posts the pact on Twitter. It blows up—and fans vote that you should dump your fiancé.

୨ৎ Genre: Slight angst?, a little smau and a happy ending or nah? read to find out ;)

୨ৎ Note: Send request y'all, also hope you like this! has some grammatical error and stuffs

ARCHIVES ⭑.ᐟ

They were sitting on the roof of his apartment, legs dangling over the edge, two beers between them and an entire city below. It was 2:08 AM, the kind of hour that made everything feel quieter, closer, truer.

You were both twenty-one. Young enough to believe in forever, dumb enough to talk about it like it was something you could schedule.

“I’m never gonna find someone,” Alex said, head tilted back to look at the stars. “They either want the driver or the version of me they think lives on yachts.”

You snorted. “Yeah, god forbid someone loves you for your sparkling sarcasm and sleep deprivation.”

He smiled, soft and sideways. The kind he only gave you. “You’re not exactly thriving in the romance department either.”

You leaned back on your elbows, the breeze catching your hair. “I’m holding out for a golden retriever in a human man’s body. Loyal, dumb, likes snacks.”

“That’s literally me,” he said, deadpan.

You turned to him, smirking. “You’re not dumb.”

He blinked. “That’s what you took from that?”

You were quiet for a moment, the laughter settling into something gentler.

And then you said it—half a joke, half a wish:

“Okay, if we’re both still single at thirty, we get married.”

Alex didn’t laugh. He didn’t even hesitate. He looked at you with that warm, steady certainty that always threw you off.

“Deal,” he said, holding out his pinky.

You looped yours with his.

“We’ll probably forget we even said this.”

But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t.

Neither of you ever did.

...

Years slipped through your fingers like sand—quiet, unnoticed, until they weren’t. Now, at twenty-eight, you and Alex were two almost-strangers orbiting around what used to be everything. Birthdays, wins, late-night calls—once sacred little rituals—were now reduced to muted texts and empty-hearted “miss you’s.”

The milestones still came. But they came alone.

The big 3-0 was creeping up now—no longer a distant joke or a silly pact sealed on a rooftop, but a deadline that loomed like a memory you hadn’t made peace with. It sat in the corners of your thoughts, like dust you kept forgetting to clean.

Only this time, something was different.

You were engaged.

To someone steady. Kind. Good. To someone who wasn’t him.

And for the first time since that night on the roof, the deal—the pinky promise you once held like a lifeline—felt like something you had quietly buried in the past. Not because you forgot.

But because remembering it hurt.

...

The proposal had been perfect.

A quiet dinner. Your favorite restaurant. Warm lights, soft music, a ring that sparkled in just the right way. He’d gotten down on one knee and asked, and you’d said yes with a smile that felt real.

It was real. But it wasn’t whole.

Because the first person you wanted to tell—the one person who would’ve rolled his eyes and said “finally, someone’s dumb enough to marry you”—wasn’t there. Not in your inbox. Not in your messages. Not even in your life the way he used to be.

You sent him a picture of the ring anyway.

No caption. Just that. He didn’t reply.

And maybe that should’ve been enough for you to let it go. To finally move forward with both feet planted where they should be.

...

username NOT ALEX ALBON SOFT LAUNCHING HIS HEARTBREAK AT 3AM 😭😭😭

username whoever that girl is… break up with your fiancé. it’s for the grid. for the sport. for the legacy 🏁💍🚩

username no bc if alex tweeted this about ME i would be at his door in a wedding dress IMMEDIATELY 👰‍♀️💅

username the way this man just said “i’m emotionally unavailable but loyal” in one tweet 🥲

username imagine being engaged and the ENTIRE F1 fandom is telling you to go back to alex albon. i would simply fold.

username this tweet has more chemistry than most paddock couples. i fear this ship is sailing with or without her 😭🚢

username alex albon said “what if i caused emotional damage AND chaos in 140 characters” and honestly? he succeeded ✨

username “they forget” — YOU KNOW SHE DIDN’T FORGET BRO 😭 this is pain. i’m feeling it in my chest.

...

Two months later—on a regular Tuesday, when the sky was gray and your phone was face-down—he tweeted it.

Your eyes widened instantly as you red between his tweet— Your breath caught without permission.

And that feeling—the one you'd spent months, maybe years, trying to bury—rose fast and vicious in your chest. That familiar tightness. That ache between your ribs. The one that only ever belonged to him.

Confusion hit first. Then came the anger.

What was he thinking? why now? why publicly?

And then came the other realization.

Why do i care so much?

Because everything was different now. You had a ring on your finger. A man who loved you. A wedding date marked in ink.

You were getting married.

Just not to the boy who once pinky-promised you forever at 2:08 a.m.

And that’s the problem.

...

You didn’t hear him come in.

You were still sitting on the couch, phone limp in your hand, the tweet burned into your retinas like some kind of confession you hadn’t meant to write—but somehow belonged to you anyway.

“Y/N?”

Your head snapped up. He was standing in the doorway, coat still on, holding a takeout bag and a look that made your stomach twist.

You swallowed. “Hey. You’re back early.”

He didn’t answer at first. Just walked in slowly, set the food on the counter, and stared at you in that quiet way he always did when he was thinking too hard and trying too hard not to show it.

“You’re trending,” he said.

Just like that.

You opened your mouth, but there was nothing ready to come out. Not an excuse. Not an explanation. Nothing that could make this better.

He sat across from you. No anger. No raised voice. Just… restraint.

“That tweet,” he said softly. “The one about the marriage pact.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

He let out a breath. It wasn’t a laugh. It wasn’t a scoff. It was disappointment, paper-thin and sharp.

“Do you love him?”

Your heart stuttered.

“No,” you said too quickly. “I mean—not like that. Not now. I don’t—”

“But you did.”

Silence.

He nodded, slow and defeated, like the answer had already been written in every pause, every time you’d flinched at Alex’s name, every time you smiled too softly at an old memory.

“I know I’m not him,” he added, barely above a whisper.

And the worst part was—you didn’t even know if that was meant to comfort you or remind you.

“I’m trying, Y/N,” he said. “I’ve been trying. But I feel like I’m holding a place someone else still owns.”

The room felt small. The air too still.

“I chose you,” you whispered. “I said yes.”

“But have you let him go?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it?

[demie90s]

Oops?

Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You pull up courtside in sweats with your bestie, fresh off a “break” with your maybe-ex.

Genre: Flirty, Slow Burn, Post-Break Tension

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

Warnings: Light cursing, flirtation, implied relationship drama

The seats were too close for how unserious we looked.

Me and my friend Paris pulled up to the Mystics vs Sky game dressed like we rolled straight out of a TikTok live and into these courtside seats. Matching sweats, no bras, hair barely brushed, and candy stashed in my Louis tote like we were sneaking snacks into a movie.

“I don’t even know how you got these seats,” I said, shoving another watermelon Sour Patch in my mouth and chewing slow.

Paris giggled, popping her gum with the side of her tongue. “Girl, I told you. Derrick owed me somethin’. Said I been ‘good.’” She did air quotes and rolled her eyes. “Like… what does that even mean?”

I blinked. “It means next time, ask for Bora Bora.”

“Girllll you know he too old for me to explain that.”

“…hoe… find a way.”

We both started laughing like we weren’t two grown women being recorded on five different iPhones. The girls behind us were whispering, and I could already tell the clip was gonna end up on Twitter: “not her at a whole WNBA game dressed like it’s pajama day 😭😭😭” — yeah, and still the finest in the room.

I reached over and grabbed another handful of Paris’s candy.

“Damn.”

“You should’ve brought your own.”

“I did—you just ate mine first.”

I rolled my eyes, legs stretched, arm slung across the back of the seat. “Bitch be grateful. I’m snack taxin’. You lucky I ain’t eat ya whole purse.”

The camera panned past us once or twice, probably thinking we were girlfriends. Happens all the time. I didn’t mind. The real issue was who wasn’t here.

She.

The girl I was supposedly on a break from. The same girl who used to sit next to me at these games in all her polished, too-perfect glory. And the same girl Georgia Amoore definitely knew.

Whether they got along was complicated. They smiled in public—took little pictures, tapped phones, gave each other compliments that sounded like insults. Real cordial. But Georgia? Georgia had always had that look in her eye.

Like she been waiting. Like she knew something my girlfriend didn’t. Like the moment I was up for grabs, she’d be right there—casual.

When halftime rolled around, there she was.

Walking up with her hair still damp, mouth twisted like she wasn’t doing nothing out the ordinary. No smile, no smirk. Just calm. Like this wasn’t a setup.

I blinked slowly, the Sour Patch mid-chew. Paris’s whole body straightened.

“Bitch,” she whispered. “Why is she—”

“Shhh.” I waved her off like I wasn’t suddenly sitting straighter too.

Georgia didn’t say anything right away. She just brought a jersey—and held it out like she was handing over a receipt.

“Here you go.”

I stared. I knew what this was. The quiet flex. The “I ain’t even tryin’, I just know what I’m doing” energy. Her eyes didn’t leave mine.

I took the jersey with a grin, folding it over my lap like it was a Birkin. “How considerate.”

She nodded. “Figured she wouldn’t mind.”

Paris coughed a laugh into her drink. I didn’t blink.

“You figured right,” I said. “We on a break.”Georgia’s eyes scanned my face, then flicked to the camera crew nearby before she shrugged.

“Breaks don’t mean unavailable.”

“Oh, I know,” I replied, biting my straw. “But you was always real friendly.”

Georgia leaned on the rail beside us, arms crossed, real nonchalant like she didn’t just make me remember the way she smiled at me the first time we met—with her sitting right beside me.

She glanced down at my legs, then back to my face. “You look comfortable.”

I blinked. “That a problem?”

“Nope,” she said, pushing off the rail. “It’s just good to see you without the filter.”

She didn’t mean the Instagram one. I knew it. Paris knew it. Hell, my ex probably knew it too.

Georgia started walking off, turning her head just slightly. “Tell Paris to stop sharin’ her candy. You gon’ eat her outta house and home.”

I sucked my teeth. “Mind your business, Amoore.”

She raised one hand without looking back. “I’m tryin’ to.”

Paris leaned in, gasping. “She’s been waitin’ to risk it all. I felt that.”

I smirked, sliding the jersey into my lap with a little shake. “If she don’t stop playing with me… I’ma start wearing this shit around the house.”

After she walked off, jersey-less and smug as hell, Paris was fanning herself.

“She been plottin’, bitch.”

I didn’t respond. I was too busy pretending not to replay that whole interaction like a TikTok in my head. Because let’s be real—Georgia was always a little too friendly.

Not in a messy way. Not even in a disrespectful way. Just… observant. Quiet. Calculated. Like she didn’t believe in rushing nothing.

Even when my ex was in the room, Georgia would throw those little comments, always under the radar:

“Y’all cute. You sure you not single, though?”

“Damn, I like girls who talk back.”

After the game, me and Paris lingered. Mostly because I was still chewing the last of her candy and she couldn’t find her lip gloss.

That’s when Georgia showed back up—this time in slides and sweats, curls half-dry, and a plastic grocery bag swinging at her side like she’d just picked something up on the way out.

“Y’all still here?” she said, like she didn’t mean to walk straight over.

Paris blinked. “I mean… traffic.”

“Mhmm,” Georgia grinned. Then she looked at me. “You eat yet?”

I blinked slow. “No, but I did steal all her snacks.”

Paris cut in quick: “She really did. That’s not even a joke.”

Georgia tilted her head. “Wanna come get something? I’m grabbing food down the street. No pressure.”

She said it calm. Real nonchalant. Like this wasn’t exactly what she’d been waiting for. Like it wasn’t an opportunity wrapped in lemon pepper and laid out in neon lights.

I looked at Paris. Paris looked at me. We both looked at the bag in Georgia’s hand like it had the answers to life.

Really, what was I supposed to say? I’m on a break. I’m hungry. Georgia She don’t even look pressed. That’s the scariest part.

“Sure,” I said, shrugging like I wasn’t already standing up. “But I’m not sharing.”

Georgia smirked. “I could’ve guessed.”

By the time we slid into the booth at a late-night spot barely holding on with a B-rating in the window, it was clear: this wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a “just friends” moment either.

It was… open-ended.

She passed me a fry without looking. She let Paris go on about Derrick and his bad knees. She asked if I still did streaming. I asked why she played so damn calm.

And somewhere between me stealing her lemon pepper wing and her wiping honey mustard off my lip with her finger, I realized—

My ex ain’t ever had me laughing like this.

Georgia didn’t push. She didn’t ask questions about her. Didn’t even bring her up again. She just existed beside me, calm and easy, like this was always an option.

Like she knew—I’ll wait. But I ain’t waitin’ forever.

I wasn’t gonna say it out loud, but damn… food tastes better when you don’t feel guilty.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai

[fleurfiles]

TREAT YOU BETTER. ft violet

୧ ‧₊˚ vi is the best roommate and friend that you could ask for. however, it's hard to keep your feelings for her a secret, especially after her and her girlfriend break up.

pairings and aus. roommate!vi 𝑥 fem!reader

warnings. friends to lovers. no verbal confession of feelings, but implied. pining. fluff. some swearing.

gabi’s quick thoughts. hi this was rotting in my drafts for three weeks so...lol, here you go.

word count. 2.5k

masterlist ‧₊˚ taglist

IT’S A SUNNY SATURDAY MORNING. the birds call to each other outside your windowsill, the curtains in perfect harmony with the swaying of the wind, the ac blasting and the fan whirring, the same exact sound that had lured you to sleep the previous night.

there’s a thick sense of tranquility in the air, and you turn over to your side, the covers crinkling as you reach for your phone. you blink the rest of sleep out of your eyes and thumb through your notifications, your eyes catching two missed calls from your best friend and roommate, vi, followed by a couple of text messages.

[vi, 10:48 am]: i’m assuming your ass is still asleep because i literally called you twice 

[vi, 10:48 am]: anyways

[vi, 10:48 am]: i’m at the store, ill bring groceries 4 dinner 

you smile, sending her a quick thank you text, and teasing her for finally paying attention to your list that you specially curate every week, instead of buying things on a whim.

violet was the perfect roommate. before the pair of you moved in together, you were both living in separate apartments, but always spending the night at each other’s places, so often that you had half of your wardrobe and a toothbrush at vi’s place. she had a few of her belongings at yours as well, but you had always preferred violet’s home, due to it’s comfort and larger space.

one early morning while you were sitting in her kitchen, eating up her food and wearing her borrowed clothes, vi had stumbled in to sit with you, half-asleep and hungry, rummaging through her cupboard to find something to snack on before the two of you settled on grabbing brunch together before work. 

“we should honestly just move in together,” you had suggested with a laugh, taking a bite of your cereal and dropping the spoon back into the clean bowl. you slid it across the counter, the very one that vi was leaning against, and she grabbed it to place it in the sink, “i’m not against it, honestly,” the red-haired girl spoke, shrugging, “though, i will have to kick you out when my girls come over, unfortunately.”

“you’re so disgusting.” you had spoken with a warm laugh, and you assumed that though the idea was out on the table, nothing would ever really come from it.

until not even a week later, vi had showed up to your apartment in a cropped muscle tee and shorts, the kind of wear that she only used to work out or fix her car in– so you knew she was preparing for something active. at first, you had assumed that she just got back from the gym, until you eyed the literal u-haul that was parked right next to her car.

“wait, violet!” you screeched as she playfully pushed past you into your home, already gathering things in your kitchen and putting them into piles to making the process as quick as possible. literally that same day, your belongings were all transported into vi’s home, and just a few short months afterwards, your apartment was back up for rent and you were splitting bills with vi.

she was probably the easiest person to live with. she, for the most part, was very clean, and made sure that neither person was doing more work than the other– everything was fair. sometimes, though, she’d leave her dishes in the sink or clothes on the floor after a shower, but she got it together eventually when she got exhausted from you constantly scolding her.

however, as time went on, things between you and vi got…weirder, at least from your perspective. 

for starters, she had a brutal staring problem. every time you’d catch her looking at you, it wasn’t in a way that was just normal eye contact or attentive listening– no, she would look at you like you were the only thing that existed. and vi being vi, she knew that you had caught onto whatever her problem was, but she didn’t care. not one bit. her eyes would dart all over you, examining you until she had to say something in response to whatever you were talking about. and often times, it would end in her blinking harshly and murmuring, “huh? sorry, repeat that?”

vi also found a way to be around you as much as possible. if you were showering, she’d claim that she needed to brush her teeth before bed or that she was sad and really wanted some company– so she’d take a seat on the toilet and talk to you while you showered. it didn’t strike you that it was necessarily abnormal at first, until one day, you had forgotten your towel and told vi to close her eyes so you could step out and grab one, but when you pulled the curtain back, her eyes were wide open.

she had apologized to you for days after that, claiming that she didn’t know you were coming out right that second, and she thought that you would’ve told her when to actually close her eyes– but you literally did. however, after you assured her that it was fine and she had already seen your body before, it wasn’t all that serious to you, and the both of you never talked about it again from that day forward.

stuff died down after the fact. vi had met a girl, and from the bottom of your heart, you genuinely hated her. no– actually, hate wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you felt about violet’s girlfriend. 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to like the girl– you had, and had even pushed your immediate thoughts and opinions about her to the side when you met her initially. but as time stretched on, the ability to tolerate her had waned significantly.

the first thing that turned you off from her was her words. she was an overly negative person, and always found something to complain about, whether the situation was even that serious or not. she always pushed her dissatisfaction onto vi, which led to your roommate often coming home to you angry crying or pissed off due to a stupid argument or fiery disagreement.

you knew that actions spoke louder than words, so you tried to give the girl the benefit of the doubt, but those didn’t reflect good character either, and you were honestly beginning to grow unsure of what vi even saw in this girl. you didn’t strike her as the type to tolerate shitty characteristics, but vi seemed like she was genuinely head over heels for this girl.

her girlfriend was also often touchy with other people, and not in the way that can pass as mere friendliness, but in the way that blurred the lines between a relationship and a friendship.

vi being vi, though, her mind was always focused elsewhere, especially on work. you doubted if she even liked vivienne, but she always got offended when you would ask about anything related to her, so you kept your quiet.

well, for as long as you could.

one day, vi came home so fueled with anger that she nearly toppled you over when trying to grab something from the cabinet next to you in the kitchen, and you finally lost it. all of this bickering and attitude that she was giving you– yeah, you had plenty of enough of it.

“okay, what the fuck is going on with you?” you asked, tossing the towel in your hand down onto the counter. vi didn’t even look at you, pulling the cabinet door open so hard it slapped the adjacent one, and you could tell that whatever happened when she was out was enough to send her over the complete edge.

“nothing,” she had snapped, grabbing a half-full bottle of tequila and setting it on the counter with a loud thud, “just a long day.”

“i’m calling bullshit.” you crossed your arms, unconvinced, “you’ve been walking around like a firecracker for weeks, i mean– vi, you practically knocked my shoulder out of its socket just now. you’re not fine.”

vi ignored you and reached for a glass– though it wasn’t really a glass, just the nearest coffee mug– and poured without saying a word. her jaw was tight and locked, and she looked like she was trying to swallow every emotion down with the liquor that swished in her cup.

you watched her take a long, hard sip, the muscles in her throat worked, her fingers curled tight around the handle, and you swallowed thickly. 

“it’s vivienne, isn’t it?”

that made her pause.

she didn’t say anything right away. she just set the mug down gently, which was such a major contrast from her demeanor just seconds ago. she stared at the tiled floor, not saying a word, and you felt yourself burn with guilt from pushing her too hard.

you softened, “vi…”

“i caught her flirting with someone else,” she finally said. her voice was low. a little hoarse. “like, actually flirting. not her usual weird fake-friendly shit. she gave this girl her number.”

your heart cracked. not because of vivienne, but because of the way vi was looking at the floor like she was mad at herself for letting herself finally be vulnerable with someone.

“gosh,” you whispered, “i’m…i’m sorry.” 

“yeah.” she laughed once, sharp, but it was obvious that she cared. though her mug was still half full, she pushed it into the sink, the clinking of the porcelain not phasing her at all. she turns around and leans up against the counter, her hands gripping the granite so harshly that her knuckles bleed white. “and i still stayed. can you believe that? like a fucking idiot. i trusted her and she threw that away like it was worth nothing.” 

you moved toward her slowly, arms uncrossing, “oh, vi…you’re not an idiot. you let yourself love, and that’s a beautiful thing. it’s okay to be upset, but she’s got some personal issues, ones that have nothing to do with you. i’m sure you’ll find someone who will actually appreciate you for all that you are.”

yeah, you. 

“i feel like one.” she looked up at you, and her eyes were rimmed red. not from tears— but you could tell that she was close, “gosh, i just wanted it to work. i wanted something to last. but every time i try, it just ends like this.”

your chest ached and throbbed against your ribs. you knew how deeply vi felt things, even if she pushed out this front of being stoic and heartless— it wasn’t the real her. you knew how much she craved loyalty, even if she pretended not to care about it, and you knew this was the first time that she didn’t leave before she got hurt. 

“you deserve more than that,” you said with a light shrug, “i mean, really— you’re an amazing girl, and vivienne didn’t deserve even an ounce of what you gave her.” 

vi blinked at you, pushing on her palms to prop herself up onto the counter. she then placed her hands in her lap, letting her feet swing naturally, and the room felt quiet for just a few, comfortable moments. she looked up at you with full, teary eyes, “you think so?” 

“i know so,” you affirmed, making your way over to her slowly, positioning yourself between her legs. you avoided eye contact, feeling your heart race as you tried to focus on anything other than her. you bit your tongue, knowing that if you said anything else, it would become more obvious that you had some type of feelings for the redhead. 

vi raised an eyebrow, but she says nothing. you’re both engulfed in another beat of silence, the only sound present being the faint whirring of the air conditioning and the machines working in the fridge. 

you attempt to enlighten the moment, “plus, i never liked her.”

vi scoffed, a real laugh breaking through as she wiped her thumb underneath her cheek, “yeah, no shit.”

“but seriously. she made you cry twice in one week. who the hell does that to you?”

“guess i’m just that lovable,” vi murmured, but the joke didn’t quite land. you frowned, your fingers brushing against  her wrist, trying to add a comforting touch, but you pulled back when her breath hitched. 

“i’m sorry,” you said softly, but with quickness, immediately withdrawing your hand and shoving it into your pocket. you stepped behind you and turned to your side, pretending to be interested in whatever was going on in front of you. 

but truth be told, you were nervous now. you had pushed a little too far, a bit too close for comfort, bad you weren’t sure how vi would react to that. she’s heartbroken and more vulnerable than ever, and now wasn’t the time to try to slide hints at her or make moves when she was clearly grieving someone she loved. 

“…come here,” she whispered out, arms beginning to stretch open. though hesitant, you obliged, stepping  into her arms, and she buried her face in your neck. the hug was tight— a little desperate, her fingers curled into the back of your shirt like she didn’t have any intentions on letting you go, and you didn’t want her to, either.

you stay like that for a while, buried in vi’s arms, your head falling into your shoulder, and hers did the same to you. she smells like smoke and musk and something darkly floral, and it makes your skin tingly. she’s warm and comfortable, and you wished you could stay in this position forever. 

all good things come to an end, though, and she pulls back, eyes searching your own. she sighs, “can i…stay in your bed tonight?”

you nodded, “yeah. of course.”

you spend the evening curled on the couch, head fallen onto vi’s shoulder as you watch some show that’s rolling on TV, but you’re not really watching it. you catch her eyeing you a couple of times when she thinks that you aren’t looking, but you are. you always are. 

and that night, she didn’t fake flirt or tease or make light of anything at all, she just curled up next to you under the covers like she belonged there, like this was something routine that you guys did on the regular. 

in the hush of the dark, while you eyes are fluttering close and your mouth is slightly parted out of relaxation, you feel a hand graze yours, a whisper floating through the dark. 

“i think it’s always been you.” 

₊⊹ taglist: @drunkinyourbenz

[barleyo]

Acceptable in the 80's.

Bodhi Windbreaker X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i know bodhi isn't the most popular dateable, but he is one of my absolute favorites. even if this is totally self-indulgent, i hope somebody else enjoys it too.

Tags: mentions of porn, fingering, handjobs, making out/kissing

Wordcount: ~0.8k

Learning about the modern era was interesting, sure, but Bodhi definitely had a preference for his time. This new, strange world made him feel behind, like he was being left out on a joke, and he was, in a way. Everything moved so quickly, despite how long he had been in his time capsule.  Things were just so different now. Not for the better. 

He told you about it all the time, ranting and raving about the 80s and how much he missed it. 

Movies, he claimed, were so much more entertaining. The actors were talented, the actresses were bombshells, and the special effects were "radical." 

Music was hip and catchy. He didn't mind newer tunes, he could admit that there was definitely more diversity now, but it just didn't hit the same. 

He thought today's fashion was clunky and cheap, that the food was overly processed and strange, and that technology was too advanced for his tastes. Social media? God, it hurt his head. Why did everything have to have an algorithm? And what the hell was A.I.? Living robots—like Johnny Five, right?

When he discovered the less wholesome side of modern internet, he found that he preferred the older alternative to it as well.

Bodhi brought you into the living room, carrying a large box of tapes and magazines. 

"I know, I tell you this all the time, babe, but the 80s was something special," he said, beaming down at you as he dropped the box on the floor. "You just had to be there. Or, in your case, you didn't have to be, because I'm gonna catch you up."

You watched him dig through the box and explain the decade's pop culture. It was interesting, but you mainly just stared at his adorably excited face the whole time. 

Bodhi bounced from topic to topic, clueing you in on his unique world of retro nostalgia. It was sweet, seeing him trip down memory lane.

"Right, and nobody knew George Michael was gay?" you asked, listening to him as he moved onto music of the 80s. 

He shook his head, giving a shrug. "I guess we were all too caught up with Hands Across America to notice." 

He dug at the bottom of the box, scooping up a final VHS. 

"What's that?"

"Last thing for today," he answered, blowing the dust out of the cartridge. "Films."

As he loaded the tape into the VHS player he had managed to find, you raised an eyebrow. 

"Didn't we already watch old movies?"

"Yeah, but this isn't a movie," Bodhi smirked, turning to face you as his finger traced over the play button. "It's a film. You know," he shrugged, "an adult film."

"Oh."

He clicked play and took a seat next to you on the floor. "Pornos were much better in the 80s too," he said, tossing an arm over your shoulders. 

You didn't realize how the video was making you feel until your hand was slowly pumping at Bodhi's cock, eyes flicking back and forth from the screen to him to make sure your movements matched. 

You kissed him softly, your arm crossing his as you both went to work on each other. The position wasn't nearly as awkward as you thought it might have been. Really, sitting so close to him while his needy hands trailed over you, going exactly where you needed him, was heaven. 

You slipped your tongue into his mouth and explored for a bit, nipping his lips when his thumb ran over your clit.

"Careful," he warned through gritted teeth, sucking in a breath, "it's still got five minutes left. Don't wanna cum before that."

You hummed and slowed your pace. It killed you to do so, but the idea of cumming with the actors was too hot to pass up. If Bodhi kept curling his fingers into you the way he was, you'd be on track to do just that. 

You mumbled a bit, making meaningless observations about the video, trying to distract yourself from how close you were. 

"The music in the back is nice," you said, face flushed.

"Yeah, porn doesn't set the mood with background music anymore."

You felt his hand grip onto your hip impatiently. You were sucking his fingers into your cunt deeper and deeper—how could he not get hasty? 

His cock kicked in your hand before it spurted thin, milky cum, but with your own orgasm crashing over you, you could hardly focus on that. 

The porno faded to black shortly after you both finished, the tape ejecting with a click. Sex with Bodhi was always fun, but this time was especially interesting. You wiped his cum off of your palm and shot him a devious smile.

"The guy had a cute mustache."

Bodhi chuckled softly. "Y'like 'staches?" He ran his fingers over his top lip. "Maybe I'll grow one for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. That is, if you grow your bush out for me," he said, eyeing your mound, "in true 80s fashion."

[midnighthazee]

My Girl

Pairing: Stalker!Jeongin x afab!reader

Summary: When Jeongin first saw you, his world became revolved around you. He was your stalker (unbeknownst to you) and now he's your loving, devoted boyfriend. He finally has you all for himself and he had no intention of ever losing you.

Word Count: 3578

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, slight angst, little violence, face riding, multiple orgasms, oral, fingering, unprotected sex (be healthy ladies!), creampie, kinda rough, lovebites, both getting sex drunk off each other...I think thats it..

a/n: sorry if you don't like Mint Chocolate ice cream...

Jeongin POV

It finally happened. He had been coming to this coffee shop six days a week at 8:30 in the morning to catch sight of her. He noticed her about three weeks ago when he stopped by randomly. She was leaving as he walked in and he nearly got hit by a car staring. She was breathtakingly gorgeous. The kind of beauty that made him forget why he went there in the first place (which was to get coffee for his coworkers).

He didn’t get her name until the next week when she had finally shown up after he was already there. He waited eagerly by the window for the barista to finally call out her name. And when she did, it was like music to his ears.….Y/n.

Now that he knew her name, he began researching on the internet trying to find out more about her. He had to know more. But to his dismay, just her first name was not enough to get far. So instead, he had been coming here every day to try to see her and work up the courage to talk to her - or at least be noticed. And today…she noticed him. 

8:42 and she walked in.

8:46 it happened.

His name was called for his drink order and went up to the bar. He took the drink and thanked the barista. And when he turned around, there she was.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” she said after nearly bumping into him.

Oh her sweet, sweet voice. It sounded even better directed at him.

“It’s okay.” Was all he could manage to say, gesturing for her to walk past.

She ducked around him, and he caught her scent. It was warm and comforting like linen and lavender. So faint one could barely smell it, but it was there. It was her scent and he loved it. The twitch in his pants was undeniable.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee as he walked back to his table. He looked up once more but she was gone. Just like that. Looking outside, he spotted her walking to her car. She got into a white sedan and he sighed - tomorrow was Saturday and he wouldn’t get to see her.

He packed up his stuff, content with the progress he made and headed to his car. As he pulled out of the parking space and left, he found himself behind her car. It wouldn’t hurt to see where she lives…right?

1 month later…

Y/n POV

You are currently in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup as you take one last look in the mirror. You had a date with this guy off Bumble and were quite nervous. He seemed like such a catch that you prayed he would live up to it in person.

The doorbell rang and you went to answer it, smiling brightly.

“Wow…you look gorgeous,” he said, eyes wide.

“Thanks.” you blush. 

He drives you to the restaurant, making small talk the whole drive. You find out he has 3 younger brothers and an older sister and grew up in California. He was currently a lawyer but not stuck up like they are stereotyped to be.

“Reservation for Grant.” he says to the hostess.

The date was going great…until it wasn’t. You excused yourself to the bathroom before dessert and when you came back, you found him smiling and laughing with a waitress. He gave his phone to the waitress with a flirty smile and she took it, typing briefly before giving it back. 

You sigh, fighting back the tears threatening to fall - he wasn’t worth it.

“Please tell me that’s not your date…” A male voice says beside you.

You look over at the young handsome face before looking back. “Unfortunately.”

“What an ass. Doesn’t appreciate the beautiful girl he brought here.” he shakes his head.

You smile politely and then turn to leave but he grabs your arm softly.

“Hey…at least let me take you home.” he smiles, dimples visible.

“I’m okay.” you say.

“I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

“Isn’t that what a serial killer would say?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” he shrugs. ”You don’t have to talk to me. You can call a friend and talk the whole way so she knows you made it safely.”

“You look familiar. Do I know you?” you squint your eyes.

“I don’t think so…” he says. “My name is Jeongin.”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.” 

“So can I take you home now? We can stop for ice cream.”

You smile with a blush. “Okay. But I need your social security number, and legal name to text my friend.”

“You got it.” 

You both laughed, exiting the restaurant and getting into his luxury sedan - way nicer than the lawyer’s company car.

Jeongin drove you about ten minutes away to an ice cream shop. He held the door open for you, as you two went in. He even shook off his jacket when you shivered from the chill inside. It smelled like him - earthy and clean but sexy. It was definitely something expensive.

“What’s your favorite flavor? Mine’s gotta be Mint Chocolate.” he asks.

“Me too!” You exclaim.

Unbeknownst to you, he already knew this. He had seen you buy it countless times.

“They have the best mint chocolate here,” he says. 

You both order a double scoop of mint chocolate and go sit outside on one of the benches. The two of you made small talk and got to know each other. And soon enough, hours had passed.

“I didn’t realize it was so late. I should probably get you home.” he says, standing. “Although I would love to stay and talk all night.”

You blush. “Yeah me too. But my roommate is probably wondering where I am.”

“Then we should get you home. I don’t want to make a bad impression with her.”

You giggle. “Thanks, Jeongin. You saved the night and I had a really great time. Better than I did with him.”

“I’m just glad I got the chance to see you all dolled up” he realized how they may have sounded. “I mean, you know because I don’t usually do fancy first dates…I keep it casual until it’s serious. Lowers the pressure, you know.”

You nod. “Yeah. I like that. So next time I won’t be so overdressed.” 

“Next time?”

“Yeah. Unless you didn’t want to-”

Before you can finish, he smashed his lips onto yours. You were stunned for a second before melting into it. Your hands were on his chest, his own slipping around your waist. Your legs nearly gave out but he pulled back.

“Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that like... all night.”

“No, um…don’t apologize.” You say, unable to look him in the eyes. Your stomach was flipping with butterflies.

“Shall we go?” He asks.

You follow him to the car and he takes your directions to your house. He walks you to the door, exchanging phone numbers, and waits for you to get in. Once you’re safely inside, he speeds off down the road. 

It takes nearly thirty minutes before he arrives at a group of townhomes. He goes up to one, knocking on the door.

Grant answers and Jeongin immediately punches him. “Stay the hell away from my girl. How dare you take her out and treat her like that.”

“The hell man? Who are you?” Grant says.

“Stop flirting with other girls on your dates.”

Grant looks up at him.

“Are you the reason Y/n bailed on me?”

Jeongin punches him again, knocking him to the ground. “Stay. Away. And keep her name out of your mouth..”

With that, Jeongin leaves.

Grant shakes his head, going inside to ice his jaw and delete your number.

Months had gone by and you were absolutely smitten with Jeongin. He really understood you - like no one else had. He learned quickly all the things you liked and disliked. He spoiled you, always surprising you with little gifts for every date. It felt like fate to find a man so attentive and detail-oriented.

“How do you know me so well?” you ask, laying on the couch in Jeongin’s lap.

“What do you mean?” he asks with a smile - that dimpled smile that makes you melt.

“Aren’t guys supposed to like…act nonchalant and forget things. And then the girl yells at him for not caring and he comes back with flowers and chocolates apologizing.”

“Is this your way of asking for flowers and chocolate?” He asks, booping your nose.

“No.” you swat his hand. “You’re not like that.”

“I know…I actually care. It’s shocking.”

“Shut up.” you swat his chest but he grabs your arm and kisses the top of your hand.

“You’re the forgetful one though…”

“I am not…” you pout.

“What’s my go-to order at Mama’s Noodles?” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“The um…the japchae.” you say with a nod.

“Nope. The Gochujang noodle. You owe me flowers and chocolate.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.

You sit up and look at him. He turns his head away from you and you roll your eyes. He’s such a big baby - your baby. You move to straddle his lap, pulling his arms apart and smiling mischievously.

“What about something better than flowers and chocolates?”

“What’s better than chocolate?” He asks as if that was a stupid question and pushes you off.

You scoff, surprised that it didn’t work. It always works. 

“You wound me. I’m going to bed.” he says with a hmph and stalks off.

You shake your head and get up to follow him. If he wants to play….you’ll entertain it for now.

Coming into his bedroom, you find him shirtless and laying across the bed on his back. His arms are over his face - probably to hide the smirk he had.

You stand in the doorway, calculating how you wanna play this. His bare chest and the way it moves as he breathes was driving heat to your core. You slip out of your clothes as quietly as you can and saunter over to him. 

You run your hands up his thighs and he tenses. One hand ghosts over his bulge and you swear he sucks in a breath. You hook your fingers in his waistband and begin pulling his pants and underwear down.

He was semi hard as you threw his pants to the side. Smirking, you take his cock in your hand and begin stroking. Looking up at him, you can see him biting his lip under his arms. You squeeze a little tighter as he grows harder at your touch.

You know he’s trying his absolute hardest to refrain from making any noises but that was one of the things you loved about him. You loved how vocal he was in bed, always groaning and moaning in your ear.

You kneel between his legs, taking his tip into your mouth. He hisses but keeps his arms covering his face. Okay, you like a challenge.

You take his length into your mouth, stroking what won’t fit with your hand. His body jerks, his cock fully hard and erect now. You bob your head, sucking hard and swirling your tongue around.

His breathing has picked up, but still not a peep from him. So you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock and then climb onto him. You move up his torso, watching him try to drop his smile. You take his arms and push them out to his sides. His eyes are closed, mouth twitching as he fights the urge to smirk.

You move a little further up, straddling his head. His eyes pop open as he looks up at you. 

You smirk down at him. “Still not better than chocolate?” 

He immediately moves his mouth closer, licking your folds as his hands grip your ass. He pushes you down onto him and begins devouring you.  He moans at your taste, the sound of him slurping filling the room. It’s so lewd but you can’t help but smile. You finally broke him.

You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he pushes you towards your high. One hand fists in his hair as the other rests on his chest behind you for support. His tongue prods at your fluttering hole, pushing you over the brink. You convulse, cumming into his mouth. He holds you in place, teasing your clit and prolonging your high with nudges of his nose.

You squirm in his hold as it becomes too much. Now, it was his turn to break you.

He pushed you off him, making you fall to the side with a squeal, and crawled over you. He smashed his lips onto yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He kissed along your jaw and down your neck until he attached his lips to one of your nipples. Your hands fisted in his hair as he took a hand and slid two fingers into your tight heat.

“Innie…fuck…” you moan.

“I gotta take care of my girl… gotta ruin you for anyone else.” he says between nips along your neck.

You moan, knowing he already has.

He places his hands under your knees and pushes your legs up, bending down for one more taste. You gasp as he licks you once more and chuckles. 

“So sensitive, jagi” he teases.

He lines himself up and sinks into you with one fluid motion. Your eyes roll back as he fills you so deep. It’s like he was made just for you. He lets go of your legs, holding himself up as he thrusts into you. Your legs wrap around his waist, your nails dragging down his torso. He bit his lip, his hooded eyes looking hungrily at you.

“Jeongin…” you whine.

“I know….” he says, picking up the pace. 

He knew you liked it a little rough and was always eager to please. He bent down, sucking harshly at your nipples. Your grip on his upper arms tightened as you felt the coil inside about to snap. He knew your body so well - thrived off the way it reacted to him.

“Cum for me, jagiya. I know you’re close.” he says.

You whine, clenching around him as he slams into you. You cry out his name as you cum, the high washing over you. He peppers your face in kisses as he finally slows down his tempo. You come down from your high, eyes still squeezed shut.

He leans up, moving one of your legs so you’re on your side. He begins moving again, your knees to your chest allowing him to reach impossibly deeper. You moan as he leans down and kisses your arm. He grinds into you and you look up into his eyes.

He kisses you deeply before straightening up and thrusting harder. You moan out, one of your hands holding his while the other grips the sheets. His free hand holds your leg, holding you flush with him. 

You're lost in the feeling of him - in the drag of his veiny cock against your walls. He feels too good and you’re never going to get tired of it. How did you get so lucky?

His hand snakes between your legs and rubs your clit with a teasing amount of pressure. You buck your hips, trying to grind harder but he just lightens his pressure. You whine and he chuckles.

“What is it, jagiya? Hmm?” he asks condescendingly.

You whine. He knows what he’s doing. And he knows exactly what you want.

“Be a good girl and use your words…” He says, sliding his hand along your leg.

The loss of contact makes you pout your lip at him. “Innie…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Please…” you pant.

“Please what?”

Ughhh…why is he doing this….

“Please…harder…let me cum…”

He snaps his hips into you, fucking you so hard the skin clapping is all that can be heard. You’re sure his apartment neighbors could hear you two.

“How bad do you wanna cum, jagi?” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm….please…” you breathe…unable to form words.

You were cock drunk and he knew it. He loves you like this. He loved having this power over you. It made him feel like you would always be by his side. And you wanted that too. If he proposed, you would easily say yes.

“Cum for me, love.” He whispers in your ear.

The coil snaps and you cum hard. Your body trembles as you ride out the high. He doesn’t stop thrusting as you clench around him. His head is thrown back, groans leaving his smirked lips as he relishes in the feeling of you.

He was losing himself and you loved it. You slip off his cock and push him down, straddling him. You sink down on him and he swears he’s seeing stars. He wanted to drag it out but he was getting too close. And the way you were grinding and bouncing on him was not helping.

You circled your hips, clenching and relaxing to drive him crazy. His eyes were squeezed closed, his hands gripping the sheets. You raked your nails across his chest and stomach, tweaking his nipples.

“Ah,..jagi. Hajima…I’m not gonna last much longer…” he panted.

“Cum for me baby. Want you filling me up…” you say, bouncing on him.

His hands went to your hips, holding tightly. You could feel him twitching inside you and you knew he was gonna cum any second. You grind down on him as you lean forward and nip at his neck. You left little love bites, nipping at his sensitive spot.

He held your hips in place, stopping your movements as he came with a groan. His body convulsed beneath you and you clenched, milking him for every drop.

“Yes…want it all..” you say.

Between the feeling of his cum and his thumb’s pressure on your clit, your own release was triggered. He moved his thumb so strategically, prolonging your high. You weakly pushed at his hand and he chuckled, removing it.

You fell forward, your sweaty bodies flush together. You lay like this for a while - letting your breathing slow as you come down. His fingers were running through your hair, the other hand holding yours.

“I love you.” he whispers.

“I love you too.”

“This is always better than chocolate,” he adds.

“It better be.” you wink at him.

A few more moments of silence passed and you would have been asleep if your stomach wasn’t growling.

“Hungry?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Let’s get cleaned up and go get something. We could grab ice cream,” he says.

“Mint Chocolate?” you ask, popping your head up.

He nods and the two of you climb out of bed.

A few minutes later, you’re washed and headed out the door. He drives you to the nearest grocery store where you head inside and make a beeline for the freezer section. You scope out your favorite brand of ice cream and put it in the basket.

“I need some shaving stuff.” Jeongin says.

“Okay. I’m going to grab some milk for tomorrow.” you say. 

In the milk aisle, you slip past a man as you reach in and grab the brand you like.

“Y/n?”

You turn to see a familiar face. Oh..you know him. It starts with G….

“Grant…” he says, as if reading your mind.

“Right. Hi.” you smile.

“Hi. I just wanted to apologize about that night. It wasn’t me getting a girl’s number…well it was. But not in the way you probably thought. She was a photographer who needed a gig. I told her my sister was getting married and I offered to connect them.” He explained.

“Oh.” you say, blushing.

“Not that it mattered to your boyfriend at the time.” Grant huffs.

“What?” you furrow your brows.

“Your boyfriend. Although I was surprised he was mad about the girl and not you cheating. Then I just figured you two did the polyamorous thing. No judgement or anything.” Grant says with a shrug.

“What boyfriend?” you ask.

“Um…tall, dark hair. Asian…”

No…he couldn’t mean…

You pull your phone from your pocket and show him the lock screen of your Jeongin. “Him?”

“Yeah. That’s the guy.”

Your eyes go wide. You had just met him that night. 

“Why did you think he was my boyfriend? How did you even meet?”

“You bailed and he showed up at my house…” Grant says, confused. “He told me to stay away. That you were ‘his girl’. Punched me twice. Broke my damn nose.”

You just stared.

“Guessing you didn’t know this. My bad. I should go. Have a good night.” 

Grant walks off and you watch him. Fear courses through your veins. Hurt. Betrayal. 

How could the man that you loved - this perfect, wonderful man you wanted to marry - have done the things Grant says he did. Your mind is racing…and swirling… 

You panic, dropping the basket and hurrying towards the front of the store, checking aisles before you walk down them in the hopes of not running into him. You needed to get away from him. You needed time to think. 

You dial your roommate’s number, hoping she will pick up so she can rescue you. She answered on the second ring.

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[megalony]

Special Victim- Part 3

Thank you all so much for the lovely feedback on this Elliot Stabler series, I hope you will all like this next part.

Please let me know what you think.

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Main Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While Elliot is at work over the weekend, (Y/n) takes the kids out for a while. But things take a turn for the worst when their youngest girl goes missing.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should try and drink something."

(Y/n) lifted her head when a can of pop was held out in front of her and she looked over to see Olivia stood in front of her.

She had her hips pressed back into the desk with one leg crossed over the other and an arm braced across her chest. But there was a calming smile on Olivia's face that did something to ease the tension overpowering (Y/n)'s system. That smile stopped her chest from quaking so much and eased one of the thousands of nerves knotted up in her stomach.

(Y/n) didn't want to take the drink, but she didn't want to be rude either and decline it. She wasn't thirsty. She wasn't hungry or peckish or tired; she was blank.

Having a drink was the last thing on (Y/n)'s mind, despite not having anything since before she left the house with the kids this morning. She wasn't sure she could stomach anything, her body was in so many knots that (Y/n) thought trying to digest something would just make her sick. But she didn't know how much longer her mind and body could continue if she didn't have anything, and clearly, Olivia thought the same.

She tried to nod her head in thanks and took the drink which she placed down on the desk. Maybe if she stared at it for long enough, she would guilt-trip herself into having some and try to make herself feel a bit better.

"Do you think Rosie's had anything yet?"

Olivia could feel her chest tightening like she was being forced into a corset with the strings being pulled an inch tighter every second. She hated how congested and wrought her system felt because she knew she didn't have the right answers and speculating might not help the situation.

Her nails dug into her upper arm through her jacket as she looked across at (Y/n) who was slumped in Elliot's desk chair at the moment.

(Y/n) looked drained. Her eyes were bleak and clearly finding it hard to focus. She was constantly rubbing and picking at her lower lip that had bled more than once this afternoon and she was biting through each of her nails in turn. Sitting there slouched down with her feet vibrating and tapping against the floor, (Y/n) almost looked like she needed to be in a hospital.

Whereas they both knew that Elliot looked the exact opposite right now. He had found some energy reserves from somewhere and was bouncing off the walls, moving from one desk to the next, to the board in the middle of the room and grabbing the phones when they thought it might be a credible tip coming in. His sleeves were scrunched up past his elbows, hands constantly grabbing his hips or scratching the back of his neck and his eyes were manic, constantly scouring around the room.

Elliot couldn't sit still or stay in one place whereas (Y/n) was finding it hard to keep breathing, let alone move around the precinct.

She tilted her head back so she could look over at Olivia, trying to gage her expression to see whether she thought Rosie had good odds or not.

Had this lady given Rosie a drink since she snatched her? Had she given her a snack or fed her? Was she currently hurting her to try and take her away and keep her quiet? Or had she already done something monstrous to the little girl?

Was Rosie currently being dumped somewhere that would take them hours to find her?

Maybe she wasn't even alive anymore.

"It's hard to say. Some people feed them and treat them like their own kids, we don't know why this lady took Rosie. She might be some kind of grieving mother."

That was what they were hoping for. They were praying that this woman was some kind of mother or at least had those maternal instincts, that she thought Rosie was a sweet little girl or resembled a daughter or sister this woman might have had once. They wanted this woman to treat Rosie like her own child because then, maybe, Rosie wouldn't get hurt.

This woman could have taken Rosie home and given her food and drink, she could have tried to take her for a drive or to the park or be reading her a story right now.

They had no idea what was happening or why she had taken Rosie, and without knowing who this woman was, they had no insight as to why she took Rosie or if she was liable to hurt her or not.

They were left completely in the dark, searching for answers they needed sooner rather than later.

Angling her head to one side, (Y/n) brought her hand up to run across her feverish temple that was throbbing like she was being constantly thwarted with a hammer.

"Do these perps usually hurt the kids they take?" (Y/n) wanted to know. She knew thatt Olivia and the rest of the team didn't want to tell her.

She knew they never liked to discuss these things with parents of victims because it would either give them false hope or a sense of dread and trepadition. But (Y/n) was different. She was married to Elliot, she knew how this job got to people and what he saw and the kind of people he dealt with. She knew more than an average parent and she wanted to know if she had to prepare herself for Rosie being injured or potentially harmed.

Olivia sighed and rung her hands together in her lap before she answered. "Usually, the women perps are less likely to harm kids in this situation unless they feel threatened or its for revenge. But you don't know this woman, that's a good sign."

Olivia wasn't saying that women never killed, because that just wasn't true, but if it had been a man who had taken Rosie then everyone would have been on red alert. Usually in these cases, the women took the child because of their own trauma and they were trying to fill that void. And she was more likely to hurt Rosie if it was for revenge, which was unlikely as neither Elliot nor (Y/n) knew this woman.

"Tell me why you think she took her. Honestly."

Having everyone tiptoe around her was getting tiresome. (Y/n) wanted an honest opinion and evaluation. She wanted Olivia to talk to her and tell her what she thought, rather than what (Y/n) wanted to hear. Elliot wouldn't tell her because he had seen what could happen, and he didn't want to think about one of his children ending up in that kind of outcome. But (Y/n) wanted to know her chances.

She wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not when Olivia leant forward to take her hand, and she found herself trembling all over again.

"To me, I think she wants or misses a child, and Rosie was an opportunity. And once we find out who she is, we can work out what she's trying to do."

(Y/n) found herself nodding along, and she tried to force herself to smile as she squeeze Olivia's hand. And she forced herself to sit up straight in a vain attempt to liven herself up. (Y/n) wanted to do something to help, whether that was talking to an officer again or helping with the tip lines or just going out on the streets to look for Rosie. But sitting here doing nothing was draining (Y/n) more than anything else would.

But her hand suddenly clenched around Olivia's to the point she was cutting off circulation to her fingers and her tired eyes went round with what Olivia guessed was panic when she looked towards the precinct doors ahead of them.

Olivia quickly spun to look over her shoulder and she felt shivers scratching down her back when she saw who walked in.

Kathy. She looked somewhat out of place and unsettled, with her hand tightly clenched around the bag on her shoulder and her eyes constantly scanning from left to right.

"Kathy…" Olivia wasn't sure why she was so shocked that Kathy would be here. One of the kids had probably called her to let her know what was happening, and of course she wouldn't want the kids to think they had to stay here at the station if they didn't want to.

But all four of them had begged to come back to the station, they wanted to be here in case any new developments happened or in case they could somehow help with the search for their baby sister.

Olivia pushed up from where she was resting against the desk, but Kathy was already advancing towards them both.

(Y/n) could feel her anxiety multiplying when she set her sights on Kathy. Being around her had never been comfortable or easy, especially in the beginning when Kathy kept saying and sometimes referring to (Y/n) as her 'replacement'.

And when she had been pregnant with Rosie, seeing Kathy had never been a walk in the park. It took Elliot quite a few tries of talking to his ex for her to finally come to terms with the fact that he was happy with someone else, and with the kids accepting (Y/n) as part of their family, Kathy didn't really have a choice.

They were ammicable and civil whenever they dropped or picked the kids up and when they had to see one another for family occasions. But right now, (Y/n) didn't know what to do or what to say.

Was Kathy going to be upset? Would she turn this against (Y/n) and say that she was clearly a bad mother? Would she imply that any of her kids could have been snatched today and therefore weren't safe when they were out with (Y/n)?

All sorts of worries and dramatic arguments flooded (Y/n)'s mind until she was dizzy and close to slouching back in her chair again. But she wasn't expecting the words that came out of Kathy's mouth.

"Are you alright?"

She looked so concerned, so worried and frightened as she came to stand near Elliot's desk.

Her dark bluey-grey eyes were narrowed in on (Y/n), but they weren't full of malice or annoyance like (Y/n) expected. Her eyes were drowning in concern. She kept rolling her lips and biting them like she was physically holding back a mountain of words she wanted to express. And somehow, she looked ready to hug (Y/n) if the occasion called for it.

There weren't the right words for (Y/n) to answer that. Her baby was out there somewhere with a stranger that may or may not resort to hurting her. They didn't seem any closer to finding Rosie or even finding the name of the woman that had taken her. (Y/n) wasn't alright, but she wasn't falling to pieces yet; she was somehow holding her fragile self together.

So she settled for trying to nod and give some kind of acknowledgement so Kathy knew she wasn't being ignorant or unkind.

"Kathleen rang me, and I- I saw the news. Do you know anything yet?"

"A woman walked out the shopping centre with her, we're trying to use store cameras to pinpoint where they were heading."

Kathy nodded at Olivia, but she didn't seem sure whether to accept that as relieving or worrying.

"The girls are upstairs, and Dickie's helping Elliot on the phonelines." Olivia motioned towards the corner of the room near Munch's desk where Elliot was hovering, one phone pressed to his ear and a pencil tapping madly against his hip. And he had Dickie sat in front of him, trying to listen in on each tip that was coming through the phone lines.

All while Dickie had Rosie's shoe on the desk in front of him, almost as if he was using it as a mascott or a momento to keep himself going and prevent a breakdown. Or like he was reminding everyone at the table why they were all here, doing this.

Elliot briefly glanced to the left when he heard his name, but the shock was clearly written across his features where his jaw hung down when he realised his ex was here.

He hadn't called her, but then again, one of his kids must have. It seemed appropriate. Despite the kids wanting to be here at the station, if they didn't find Rosie soon they couldn't keep all four kids here. This wasn't the right place for them to wait for news, especially if the news they received was bad. They would have to go home at some point, and Elliot and (Y/n) couldn't go back home until they found Rosie. No matter where she was or what condition she was in.

The phone in Elliot's hand was tossed back down on the receiver and he clamped his hand down on his son's shoulder, briefly motioning in the other direction to show him who had turned up.

The pair of them headed towards Elliot's desk and once they got there, Dickie hopped up to sit on the edge of the desk. His hands clamped down on the sharp edge that cut into his palms and gave him a blistering feeling which kept him concentrated and prevented him from giving in to the panic that made him want to burst into another fit of tears.

He looked between all three parents, trying to gage their reactions, but this was one of the few times where none of them seemed annoyed or uncomfortable around each other. They were on the same page.

Elliot's hands found (Y/n)'s shoulders as he stood behind her and he bent down to peck the top of her head before he looked across at his ex. Kathy was trying her best to smile and put on a brave face, and she briefly glanced towards their son before looking back at the couple.

"I can take the kids home, I know they're supposed to stay the weekend with you, but you both need to be here-"

"I wanna stay, I- I wanna find Rosie." Panic rose in Dickie's voice as he glanced to Olivia stood beside him as if silently begging for her to agree and chip in on his side. He didn't want to go home. What good would that do?

Whether they were here or at home, they would all be frantic and panicking about Rosie. They might as well stay here where they would be the first to hear new information and stay updated on the situation as it evolved.

A silent look passed between them all while (Y/n) looked down and waved her hand. This wasn't her decision, it was between Elliot and Kathy whether the kids stayed or left.

It was Elliot who relented, mostly because he knew going home would drive them all out of their minds. "Just for a bit longer, then you go home with your mum."

When Dickie nodded, Kathy advanced towards him and reeled him in for a hug before she stepped to one side and rested her hand on Elliot's shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze.

While Olivia drifted from the desk and Dickie leaned into his mum's side, (Y/n) tilted her head back until she could lean her cheek against Elliot's bicep. She closed her eyes, trying her best not to picture her daughter each time her eyes shut, and she reached her hand up to grip Elliot's wrist.

"We'll find her."

(Y/n) nodded, but she didn't dare open her eyes because she knew they would give away the fright those words caused. She knew they would find Rosie, she just prayed they wouldn't find her too late.

"Wanna help go through security tapes?" Elliot knew what the answer would be and he managed a small smile when (Y/n) nodded and finally opened her eyes to look up at him. And he felt his heart calming down just a little when (Y/n) kissed the inside of his wrist before she pushed forward to get up.

They hadn't had much luck so far with finding Rosie and this mystery woman on the tapes. But they were canvassing and collecting any CCTV from nearby shops and on any roads they guessed this lady might have taken since the last place they saw her.

(Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair and tried to liven herself up. She wouldn't be very much use looking through tapes if she felt like this, she had to at least keep her eyes open and peeled ready to scour through grainy tapes.

She moved to follow Elliot when he rounded the desk and aimed across the vast room, but her attention was drawn over to the doorway to the SVU squad room.

Finn and Olivia were talking, and whatever they were discussing, neither of them seemed happy.

She couldn't help herself, (Y/n) just had to edge closer. After all, they might be talking about Rosie and whether it was good or bad news, (Y/n) had to know.

Her hands felt like they were turning numb at her sides and her fingertips were as cold as ice and it was spreading up her arms and towards her chest which was shaking with each step she took towards them.

It was as if every other sound in the squad room faded out and their voices were the only ones that (Y/n) could hear or focus on.

"How reliable is the tip?"

Finn shrugged, his expression as grave as Olivia had ever seen. "Cap said it's legit, there's already patrol on scene."

"Okay, how sure are they that it's her?"

"Right age, hair, skin colour, found in the scope area…"

It was as if the world stopped turning and time was broken when (Y/n) finally understood why their expressions were so gaunt and their complexions were pale; and she realised why Olivia was holding back tears.

"Y- you found a body."

(Y/n)'s voice broke when Olivia spun round on her heels, jaw gaping and eyes as hollow as an empty casket. She didn't think the couple were within earshot. This wasn't something they wanted either (Y/n) or Elliot to hear.

A body had been found. A dead one. They needed to go and confirm whether it was indeed Rosie or if it was some other parent's worst nightmare coming to life.

Was it her baby? Was it Rosie, out there somewhere, all alone and frail and left without a second thought? Where had she been left? Had she been covered? Was she cold? Was she somewhere dingy and dark- she was afraid of the dark. What had that woman done to her? Where had she left their little girl?

Elliot couldn't breathe. He was halfway towards the rookie sitting at a desk with a pile of security tapes at his side when Elliot heard (Y/n)'s frail outburst. Tears were already stinging his eyes and blotching his face red, despite how pale and deathly he looked from today's events.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he turned on his heels, storming towards his team. But out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his son.

Dickie's face had gone the colour of a strawberry and deep rasping breaths were leaving his lips as tears began to flush down his face. He was shaking his head, whispering a rendition of 'it's not her' while he collapsed into Kathy's arms. Allowing her to cradle him close as if he were five years old again while she kissed his temple and hushed him, agreeing that it couldn't be Rosie. For what else could she say or do to console him?

Kathy's stricken eyes locked on Elliot before she kept looking back towards (Y/n). Someone had to help her. Someone had to comfort her and hold onto her before she too went into a desolate state of panic or tried to bolt from the station.

Elliot couldn't feel his legs moving, he felt like he was floating. His body was moving without his command and he stormed past the desks in his way until he was standing in front of Olivia and Finn with (Y/n) stood to one side, seemingly in a trance.

"Is it her? Is it Rosie?" Neither of them wanted to answer him, and Olivia gasped when Elliot's hands seized her arms and he shook her to gain her attention. "Liv! Is it Rosie?"

"We don't know," Olivia tried her best to steady her voice and hold her emotions at bay while she reached up to seize Elliot's wrists. "I'll go find out, but I doubt it's her."

"I'm going-"

"That's not a good idea." Finn shook his head, looking as heartbroken as Elliot had ever seen.

It wouldn't be wise for either of them to go down because if it was Rosie, seeing her wherever she was would be an image they would never forget. And if it wasn't, they would be traumatising themselves with the image of an unknown dead child, something they didn't need right now.

"No. If it- if it's her I don't want strangers leering over her-" Elliot's eyes snapped closed and he wavered in Olivia's arms when he heard (Y/n)'s cries.

He didn't want to speak his thoughts in front of his wife and upset her any further, but he didn't know what else to do. If it was Rosie out there in the cold, in some alley or hidden corner, Elliot needed to go to her. He needed to see her and take her and bring her back. He didn't want strangers moving her or leering down at her.

Shallow breaths left Finn's lips as he bypassed Elliot and cautiously reached out for (Y/n), unsure if she would be okay with him trying to comfort her or not. But she seemed to need someone to hold her broken pieces together. Her hands were cupping her ears to block out their voices and her eyes were snapped closed with her head angled down towards the floor.

"El… Elliot, look at me." Olivia did her best to smile and put on a brave face when Elliot's watering eyes finally looked down at her. "I'm going to the scene, I'll identify that it's not her and I'll come straight back and let you know. I promise."

There was no room for debate and before Elliot could put up a fight and ask where the scene was or try and make a break for it, both Kathy and Captain Cragen were reaching out for him and pulling him back. And when he felt his son's hands latching onto his arm, he knew he couldn't run after Olivia who was already jogging out the squad room.

Olivia knew Rosie, she was her Godmother. She would go and make sure that it wasn't that sweet little girl who had been found. She would reassure them all and come straight back so they could continue looking for Rosie.

It wasn't her. It couldn't be her.

***

He couldn't breathe. Each breath Elliot tried to take got harder and harder until he was gasping and wheezing little puffs of air that were barely enough to sustain him.

It made him feel drunk. It made him feel like he was sinking in quick sand that was almost over his head. And he didn't know how he was going to drag himself out if it consumed him fully because at least drowning for air like this meant his mind wasn't working on overdrive with a million horrid possibilities.

His eyes closed for what felt like the millionth time and his head tilted down until his lips were smothering the back of Lizzie's head.

She was sat beside him, tucked under his arm like she was a little child again seeking comfort and reassurance.

Dickie and Kathleen were sat together at Elliot's desk, no words passing between them but every now and then they would lean into one another or share a look. And Maureen was sat with her mum, dried tears stained into her pasty features and apologies constantly floating from her lips because she felt partially responsible.

If she only kept hold of Rosie's hand, this might not have happened. If she didn't let her play hide and seek in the clothes aisles, if she didn't let her little sister out of her sights for one second. If that woman hadn't been in that shop at that precise time. If none of them went upstairs to look around.

If they had all carried their bags rather than dumping them in the pushchair, Rosie would have been strapped in and this would never have happened.

There were so many what ifs about this whole situation and it was turning their world upside down. A minute or two was all that Rosie had been out of their sights, and that was all it took for someone to seize the moment and snatch her and cause such mayhem.

And why? Why take her? Did this person want to hurt Rosie? Did she want to take her and keep her as her own daughter? Did she want to inflict torment on their family? Or had she taken Rosie specifically to harm her?

Maybe that body that had been found was Rosie, and this had all been some sick psycho's game to harm someone, and Rosie had been a victim of chance.

It felt like they had all been sat around waiting for hours, days, weeks even, as they waited for Olivia to come back with news.

No one knew what to do, and none of the officers in the station knew how to act around them. Finn was sat with (Y/n), but neither of them were speaking. He didn't know what to say to try and somehow help or calm her down, it seemed that his presence was enough for now since (Y/n) hadn't said one word since Olivia left.

Munch was combing through security tapes, plotting out the movements of Rosie and this woman while tips were still coming in on the phone lines. Although most of them were misleading or simply untrue.

Despite the hustle and bustle of incoming calls, people fluttering about asking what to do and giving information left right and centre, the family felt like they were trapped in silence. They were all sat close together in their own little bubble. And for the first time since arriving back to the station, Elliot sat silently with his family, becoming motionless and void.

That was, until Olivia came back into the squad room.

No one knew how long she was going to be, they were all left in the dark, waiting to see how long it took for her to reach the scene, wherever that may be. And how long it would take for her to identify whether it was her Goddaughter or not and then either go along to the morgue or come straight back here. They had no concept of time or how long Olivia would be, therefore they didn't know if this was going to be good or bad news that she brought along with her.

She looked out of breath, like she had ran up here from her car and her hands were twitching and flexing at her sides like a coping mechanism to keep herself calm and settled.

Her eyes roamed around the room, seeing (Y/n), Kathy and all the kids sat close together, clearly waiting for her to come back.

But it was Elliot who jumped to his feet first. His arms untangled from Lizzie and he found a reserve of energy he didn't know he had which allowed him to rush across the room until he was standing in front of his partner.

He debated reaching out for Olivia but settled on resting his hands on his hips where he could pinch his skin if necessary to try and keep himself calm and under control.

"Was- was it-"

"Was she-"

Voices came at Olivia from all angles, needing answers as swiftly as she could give them.

She looked around the family, seeing a mixture of panicked faces staring back at her. Each of the kids had clearly been crying, Dickie and Maureen still looked distraught with wobbling lips and blown pupils and tears soaking into their features.

But it was Elliot's watering eyes that set Olivia off guard. She had seen him cry before, when he and Kathy broke up. When they couldn't save someone on a case. When a child had been sking for help in a tough situation or seeing one of their victims pass away too soon. This was different. These were tears of a broken heart and it had never felt so hard for Olivia to look up at Elliot before.

Her hands reached out for his upper arms as if ensuring he wasn't about to collapse when she told him her news.

"It wasn't Rosie. I swear on my life, it wasn't her. She's still out there, alive."

She wasn't sure what kind of reaction she had been expecting, but having Elliot's arms binding around her middle and his tears soaking into her neck wasn't what she anticipated.

Nevertheless she wrapped her arms around him and began gliding her hand up and down his back, giving what little comfort she could in this moment.

It hadn't been Rosie. Olivia had been in tears before she pulled up on the scene, but when they showed her that little girl, she burst into tears as she shook her head wildly. It wasn't Rosie. She didn't know who that little girl was or what family she belonged to, and Olivia felt an enormous wave of guilt rising in her chest at how relieved she was.

She was happily inflicting agony upon some unsuspecting family who would receive news that no one should ever hear. But she was glad Elliot and (Y/n) didn't have to hear such news.

Their little girl was still out there somewhere. She still needed them to find her, and more importantly, she was alive. Or in the very least, they could assume the best and hope that she was still alive and hadn't been hurt in any way.

For the first time in hours, a trace of a smile hinted across (Y/n)'s lips and she squeezed Finn's hand when she heard him murmur "What did I tell you?"

It hadn't been Rosie, but they weren't much closer to finding her.

***

Leaning to the right, (Y/n) laid her cheek on Elliot's bicep and curled her hand around his elbow while she stared at the board in front of them.

There was a map pinned up to the board with little dots stuck all over it. There was a red dot over the shopping centre where Rosie had been snatched. Another three dots around that where she had definitely been sighted on security cameras or by witnesses in nearby shops.

Three yellow dots signified possible sightings that they hadn't yet confirmed, and the dark blue sticker dots implied places they thought this woman might go to.

They had a name. TARU had cleared up a picture of the woman from a security camera and found a match in the database. They knew her name and home address, although when a team went to her house it had been empty. But at least they were a little bit closer to knowing about this woman and guessing why she had taken Rosie.

For a little while now, Elliot had been staring at the map, trying to guess where this woman was going and what she was doing. He couldn't find anything or come up with any possible answers, but he didn't know what else to do.

He felt (Y/n) leaning into his side and holding onto him and it made a soft look crease at his features. He turned to peck the top of her head and he reached his hand down to squeeze her wrist.

It was getting late. After the false alarm, Kathy had managed to convince the kids to go home with her. Elliot promised to ring them if he had any news whatsoever and that they could come back as soon as they found Rosie or got some credible information. But he and (Y/n) couldn't leave. They needed to be here for any sort of developments.

"She'll be tired by now… and hungry." (Y/n) knew talking like this wqasn't exactly going to help, but all these thoughts were going round and around in her mind and she didn't know what to do to get rid of them.

She felt Elliot tighten his grip on her wrist while he shifted to press his lip to her temple rather than the top of her head. She was sure she felt him sighing against her skin, but he didn't pull away or tell her not to go down this road.

They just wanted her back. It had been hours now.

"Someone will spot her. This woman hasn't taken her home yet and Rosie's plastered all across the news. We'll find her soon."

If she tried to take Rosie to a hotel or a fast food place or even to a corner shop, the chances were that someone would recognise Rosie from the news and tell the police. And this woman hadn't been back to her home yet, she might go there eventually lest she wanted to spend the night on the street or in a car with a screaming child who would be begging to go back home to her parents by now.

A comfortable silence enveloped the pair of them as they stared at the map and listened to the bustling sounds around them.

It felt like they were drifting apart from the rest of the world, right until Munch's voice broke through the air, louder than all the rest.

"Possible sighting!"

Those two words were enough to spark hope and adrenaline straight to (Y/n)'s heart. Her nails dug into Elliot's elbow as the pair of them spun on their heels to try and spot John in the bustling squad room.

The couple hurried towards him, as did Olivia and Cragen as if John had just announced that he had found the last golden ticket or had the winning lottery numbers; and everyone wanted them. They crowded round his desk, eyes wide and eager to know what tip he had just heard on the phone.

"Where?"

"Are we sure it's them?"

"Is she okay?"

John held out his hand, waving at them all to signal for them to stop bombarding him with questions. He would answer them. "A woman matching Marlene's description was seen dragging a little girl towards a car. Number plate matches what we have on file."

"Is it Rosie?" Elliot had to be sure. After their scare earlier in the afternoon, he wanted- no, needed to be sure that this was real. That his youngest was indeed alright and alive and fighting. He needed to know if this was a real tip that he could go to and find his girl once and for all.

"Witness said the girl wasn't wearing shoes, we didn't release that to the press. They're on the corner of fifty-ninth street."

They had released a recent photo of Rosie and a description of what she was wearing, but they hadn't told the press that she had lost her shoe at the shopping centre. So a little girl matching her description, without shoes, was a very close match to Rosie and less likely to be someone trying to cause trouble or wanting a reward for a bogus tip.

"Let's go." Elliot was already turning away from the rest of them and looking for the nearest exit before he realised Cragen was moving to stand in front of him to gain his attention.

"Elliot-"

"Cap, I have to go. I have to get her back."

He knew that Cragen had been lenient already by allowing Elliot and (Y/n) to be here in the squad room helping out and hearing all the possible leads and new information. They didn't usually have parents this close to the case trying to get involved, but then again, the parents weren't usually one of the team.

But Elliot couldn't be held at bay now. He couldn't be remanded here to the station while they went out and possibly found Rosie. If this was a reliable tip and they found her, then her parents needed to be there. They would need to be with her sooner or later when she was found, and waiting wasn't going to help anyone.

He could see the debate happening behind Cragen's eyes before he nodded and a sigh slipped past his lips.

"You stay with Olivia, let her take the lead. Finn take (Y/n) but stay behind the lines."

Elliot was a detective, he knew the rules and if he stayed with Olivia she could make sure he didn't step out of line or get too involved trying to get his daughter back. This still had to be played by the rules. (Y/n), however, wasn't one of them. She didn't know the rules or the standards and she was a civilian, they had to look out for her. She would have to hang back and watch from the sidelines until they got Rosie safe and sound. Her being allowed down to the scene was lenient enough.

"Everybody move!"

The whole car ride felt like a timer was set on them, and Elliot was the bomb that was ready to explode.

His feet tapped and jittered against the floor, his clenched hand was constantly tapping on the door and his other hand was pressed against his mouth like he was trying so hard to keep himself quiet. He didn't know what to do with himself.

What if it wasn't Rosie? What if they didn't get there in time? What if this Marlene managed to take Rosie away or find a different vehicle and escape with her? They would be chasing them throughout the night, possibly for days.

He wanted his baby girl back.

None of his kids had ever been taken like this before or gone missing. There had been one or two close calls, but nothing on this scale. Elliot had always sympathised with parents in this position, he tried to imagine what they were going through and help them as much as he could. But now he truly felt the fear that felt like a hand squeezing their heart. He experienced that constant stream of adrenaline and those horrid sailor's knots in the stomach that tangled up the more he tried to calm down.

And none of it was going to disappear until he had Rosie back safe and sound in his arms.

The closer they got to the scene, the more unsettled and sick Elliot started to feel and he knew Olivia felt the same nerves because she kept tapping her nails against the steering wheel and looking over in his direction.

All of a sudden, Elliot perked up in his seat and sat forward, one hand resting on the dashboard while the other started pointing.

"There! There, it's her car she's on the move. Go!"

She had managed to get into her car. From what the officers had said who were arriving on scene, Marlene was struggling to get Rosie into her car and it was causing a scene, just what they needed to find her. But if she was driving off that meant she had either dumped Rosie in favour of trying to get away, or she managed to get the toddler in the car with her and was on the run.

Either way, they had to catch her.

"Finn, they're going down tenth-ave, cut them off. We're in pursuit." Olivia spoke into her radio while Elliot switched on the sirens and clung tight to the door handle when she spun the car in the opposite direction.

Elliot knew (Y/n) would find it hard to stay in the car once they cornered Marlene and tried to get her out of her car. (Y/n) would want to be out with them, trying to get Rosie back. She wouldn't want to just sit and wait to be told when she could come over and when it was safe, but she would have to wait.

At least he could get out. He wasn't benched or stuck on the sidelines, he could go and get their girl back.

The feeling of his gun strapped to his right hip was weighing heavy on Elliot's side and it was starting to burn a hole in his skin. He didn't want to brandish his gun if Rosie was within sight. He didn't want anyone risking shooting his daughter by mistake or frightening her, but he didn't want this woman getting away with her either.

His shoulder rammed into the door when Olivia skidded the car to the right, the brakes squealing to a stop as they blocked off the end of the road. And once their target was in the middle of the road, there was nowhere to go. Especially when Finn's car blocked the other end of the avenue.

"NYPD, turn off the engine and step out the car slowly." Olivia hurried out the car and approached the vehicle in question with her gun held low in her hand, pointed down towards the floor as a precaution.

Elliot's eyes zoomed in on the car as he stepped out, his hand hovering over his holster, ready to take aim if the woman tried to make a break for it or tried throwing anything at them. They had no idea whether she was going to be violent or not. They didn't know if she had or was willing to hurt Rosie or attack them to try and make her escape if she even thought that she could get out of this situation.

The woman climbed out.

She looked to be mid to late thirties. She had shoulder-length black hair and a fringe that almost reached her eyes that were rabid like a wild animal caught in a snare. But when she reached down and grabbed the hand of a little girl who scurried out the car, Elliot felt like he couldn't breathe.

A purple dress with flowers. Plain white tights that were now ripped and black around the knees. No shoes on her little feet that were scuffing against the floor with holes in the ends around her toes and dirt and mud clinging to he tights.

Those big doe eyes made Elliot see red. His baby girl. That was his daughter, and this woman had tried to take her away from him.

He took one step forward with his right hand still hovering over his holster and his left hand held out in front of him to try and keep Marlene from doing anything stupid. But his shoes scuffed against the road and he stopped in his tracks when he watched her move.

She locked one arm around Rosie's waist, hoisting the writhing and screaming child up against her chest. But her other hand was holding something near Rosie's neck, and from the look of things, Elliot took an educated guess that it was a knife or some kind of weapon.

He couldn't risk her hurting Rosie.

He glanced across at Olivia, but she was already tucking her gun back into her waistband. "Marlene, we're here to talk. Why don't you put Rosie down?"

A feeble whisper of "Auntie Liv?" hushed past Rosie's lips and her timid eyes tried to crane to the side to see where Olivia was as she recognised that familiar voice.

It was clear that Marlene wasn't happy about being known and recognised, and she seemed even more disgruntled at the fact that Rosie knew the cops who were trying to get her back. Her arm tightened around Rosie who started to wriggle and whimper.

"It's me sweetie, are you okay?" Olivia tried to smile but she could barely hear her own voice over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. Seeing Rosie wriggling and talking and mostly unharmed was like a dream that felt too good to be true. After searching all day and having a brief worry that she might be dead, seeing Rosie now was sending Olivia into a delirious state.

"Rosie, baby are you okay?" Elliot breathed harshly through his words when his girl didn't respond to Olivia.

He loved the spark of hope he saw ignite in her eyes when she saw him stood just over a hundred yards away from her. He saw those watering eyes brighten up and her little red lips parted into a mewl as she began to wriggle.

"Daddy!"

A smile pulled at Elliot's lips and he flashed his teeth as he nodded, barely able to contain himself at seeing his girl alive and well. "It's me baby, we're here now."

When Marlene took a cautious step back, Elliot's smile faltered and he held himself back from trying to move. He knew it would only push Marlene to keep retreating and he didn't know if she was liable to hurt Rosie in such a panicked state. She was getting caged in and she didn't know what to do.

"Marlene, why don't you put her down? We want to talk." Elliot could barely remember what he was supposed to do in this situation when the paternal instinct within him was telling him to bolt over there and snatch his child back to safety.

"No… no, just g-go away."

"We can't do that, we're here to help you and Rosie." Olivia tried her luck stepping closer but Marlene was still trying to step away, all with Rosie wriggling and fighting in her arms.

She wanted to be put down. She wanted to go back to her dad. Rosie wanted to go home. One minute she was shopping with her mum and all her big siblings, and the next some lady was taking her hand and telling her they were leaving. She had been crying all day, desperate to go back home but she kept being told that her family weren't coming for her.

But her dad was here now. He was here with her auntie Liv, they were here to take her home. That was what Rosie wanted. To be taken back home and to be with her family, not this strange, frightening lady.

"She's mine now, she's my little girl. So- so you're going to let us leave."

Her arms adjusted to hitch Rosie higher against her chest and her hand hovered the knife closer to the little girl she had grown attached to. She didn't want to hurt her, but if it was the only way to get it through to the police that they couldn't have her back, then it was something she would have to do.

This little girl was hers now. This was her daughter now and she wanted the police to stop searching for her and people to stop staring when she tried leaving with Rosie.

Elliot began to shake his head, trying hard to keep his expression neutral but it wasn't working. His eyes were close to watering again and his chest was aching and tightening just looking at his daughter who was crying and wriggling, desperate to be back in his arms once again.

"We can't just let you take her." There was a hint of sorrow in Elliot's voice as he locked eyes with Marlene. She couldn't truly expect them to let her walk away and take Rosie from them.

He couldn't stand here and watch her run off with his daughter. Rosie belonged with him, she belonged with her family, not with this unhinged stranger.

"No I want daddy." A deep whine left Rosie's lips as she started to swing her legs, desperate to do anything to get back to her dad.

Hearing her pleading voice and seeing the utter terror plastered across Rosie's face caused Elliot's heart to crumble in his chest and weigh down in the pit of his stomach. She wanted him. She was calling out for him to come and get her and Elliot had to fight every fibre of his being not to run over there and snatch his little girl back into his arms.

He found himself wincing when Marlene sobbed and tilted her head back like she was looking up to the sky for the answers she couldn't find.

"She's mine!"

"No!" Deep whines rumbled past Rosie's lips followed by a sob as her hands started to stretch out, bash and wave in Elliot's direction.

Didn't he want her anymore? Why was this lady trying to take her? Why did she have to stay with this lady? She wanted to go back home. She wanted Elliot to take her back, not let her leave with this person.

"Baby it's alright, I'm right here-"

"You have enough!" Marlene's sudden outburst stunned Elliot into silence as his wide eyes flooded with confusion. "All those kids, too many and no one was watching her. I- I can give her the attention she deserves."

Now that wasn't fair. She couldn't simply assume that Elliot- or rather (Y/n), since he hadn't been there at the shopping centre- had too many children and therefore it was perfectly fine to take one. Marlene couldn't assume that Rosie wasn't cared for her loved or given the attention she needed and deserved.

Rosie might have four older siblings, but that didn't mean she wasn't loved or wanted or spoiled.

She was their girl, she was their family and they weren't going to let her be taken and let her go without a fight. Marlene couldn't just take their daughter because she assumed they had more than enough children to sustain them and make them happy. And she couldn't take one from someone else simply because she didn't seem to have a child of her own.

The world didn't work that way and Elliot was going to get his daughter back one way or another. There was no happy ending for Marlene in this situation and there was nothing Elliot could do to change that.

"Her sister was watching her, they've all been desperate to get her back. We want out little girl back, please. You don't know how much its hurt us, trying to find her and make sure she's okay."

Marlene began to run.

"No- no!"

Elliot couldn't brandish his gun from his holster, he couldn't take aim and risk hitting his daughter and he knew that Olivia thought the same. The pair of them set off into a sprint after Marlene who didn't seem to know where she was heading for.

There were a few side streets leading from the main road they were on, but she wasn't going to get far on foot. And she couldn't backtrack and try to get Rosie in the car and make a break for it when Elliot or Olivia could easily reach the car and get in her way.

Marlene hurried as fast as she could whilst juggling Rosie in her arms, who kept falling and slipping and wriggling making it impossible to hurry without dropping her.

Rosie wanted her to stop. She wanted to go home. She was lost, on a street she didn't know with a strange woman and she was hurt. She wanted to go home.

When the lady pressed the knife near her face and hissed at her to stop moving, a blood-curdling whine left Rosie's wavering lips and she began to sob. Her eyes scrunched up tight as tears stained her face and her arms stretched out like she was trying to reach out for Elliot.

Why was she being dragged around? Where was her mummy? Why had this lady taken her away from the shops? Why did none of her family follow or meet them outside like the woman said they would?

Elliot continued to sprint whilst ramblings and yells left his lips. He was gaining on them. He was close. His arms stretched out in front of him as he was so close that he could almost reach out for his daughter. It was like a race, a competition, and Elliot needed to win.

A blaring car horn. Back up hadn't arrived yet to block off the other side streets and barracade Marlene in to stop her from getting away. That meant bypassers and civilians weren't diverted or told to stay away from this area.

"Rosie!"

Elliot stumbled, deep breaths raging past his lips that made his chest heave and feel like it was splitting apart. He surged forward when Marlene stumbled. Everything happened so fast that Elliot couldn't tell whether the car hit her as the brakes squealed to a stop or whether she stumbled from sheer panic and terror.

Either way, she went down with Rosie in her arms who let out a mixture between a scream and a choked howl as she and the stranger collided with the road.

The moment they were down, Elliot was moving. He didn't care about being careful and he didn't think about the possibility that this woman might have sustained injuries or in the very least a few bumps and bruises. His touch was rough as he turned and battled with her arms, flinging them in every direction like he was digging through dirt to find buried treasure.

And he found her. His girl. His crying, screaming little girl who was terrified beyond belief and tormented to no end.

"Come here, okay baby it's alright. I've got you, shh." Words tumbled past Elliot's lips in a whirlwind as he tried to be careful and as tender as possible, but he just wanted to scoop her up and retreat as far as possible.

His arms bound around his girl and he lifted her up, carefully huddling her against his chest as he took a few wide steps away to add as much distance between his daughter and this crazed kidnapper.

It was a relief that Olivia crouched down beside Marlene because that meant Elliot didn't have to check her for injuries or read her her rights. He could stand back with Rosie and check her over and get ready to take her to hospital for a thorough check up.

He hushed Rosie as she let out another scream, trembling in his arms despite how she was clearly trying to burrow down into his chest. Smelling that familiar cologne clinging to Elliot's shirt which helped to quieten her down somewhat. She was back in familiar arms. She was safe. She was with one of her parents again.

Her arms bound around Elliot's neck and she nuzzled her face into his skin as he peppered her temple and cheeks with dozens of kisses.

"Oh baby, we've been looking everywhere for you. Are you hurt?" Elliot kept his lips glued to his daughter's temple, unable to truly register or believe that she was safe in his arms.

A dark part of his mind had resigned to the fact that he might not find Rosie safe and unharmed. He had been in this job for twelve years, he knew how bad a situation could get and how unlucky parents could be. Children didn't always come back alive. Having Rosie trembling in his arms and clinging to him like this proved that she was alright and that the worst hadn't happened to Elliot and (Y/n).

"El! Elliot!"

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s voice as she pelted away from the car, Finn's voice turning to careless whispers on the wind behind her. Her shoes scuffed against the road, her knees quaked and threatened to drop her down to the ground and her heart was beating frantically in an effort to escape her chest.

She saw that little frame in her husband's arms. She recognised that look of relief in his eyes and the tears streaking down his face. He had Rosie back, and (Y/n) needed to see her.

She stumbled, unable to stop herself from how fast she had been running in her efforts to reach her family. Both arms outstretched and bound around Elliot who almost went down on his back with the force which (Y/n) barrelled into him.

Her face smothered into his arm and one of her arms bound around his waist while the other hand reached out to cup the back of Rosie's head.

"Mummy," Rosie whimpered and went off into another round of crying as Elliot turned her a bit better in his embrace so (Y/n) could see and reach out for her.

Tears poured freely down (Y/n)'s face as she peppered kisses all over Rosie's face and started to card her fingers through her daughter's tangled mess of hair. She had been petrified today, she was trembling and sobbing and clearly she had gained a few injuries. But she was alive, and she was safe now. They had her back with them, where she belonged.

"It- it's alright baby, we're here."

[qinnyanimation]

No word needed

My favorite moment of Oinops and Pathoseus is the week after their break up… A continuation from the break up.

Oinops came to the art room the next morning to apologize, but ended up worsened the situation.

The Ariadne thing came from Pathoseus calling Oinops the embodiment of Dionysus…Oinops called him Ariadne back and promised to find him when he needed him most no matter if he was abandoned on a shore.

5 days and nights.

Pathoseus was so mad. He tried his best to keep his act together but couldn’t do so. He tried to do all the things he loved, he painted , he crafted but nothing worked. The frame is completely empty.

He kept on repeating Oinops words. All the meaningful things he needed to hear for all his life. He tried to seek him out but Oinops was nowhere to be seen. He ran away from the academy. Pathoseus was all alone once again.

But when he finally realized how both of them are scared to face with their feelings, he dropped everything and ran.

Oinops was no different, he ran away to the cult he used to drown himself in (Cult of Dionysus, yes this man used to be WILD) but he just stood there, in the middle of all the madness. Drowning in his own feelings, he tried to write down his apologies. But everything turned out like a cheap play script. Days and nights trying to find the right words.

He realized once again, that forgiveness is not what he wanted. But to let Pathoseus know he cared. He dropped everything, and ran.

( Me and moot wrote a whole one shot on each of their perspectives on those 5 days, here’s mine! I’m too tired to translate all those so… uh if you really want to read it I think a translator might do the trick? )

Return to each other’s arm

The closer to the academy, the faster Oinops’s paces is. The further from the art class, the faster Pathoseus ran.

They saw each other again. In front of the academy. In the middle of the center field. No word needed, Pathoseus ran into Oinops knocking both of them on to the grass field.

Oinops having been knocked to the ground, he just laughed. His voice was dry from all the cries and breakdowns but he laughed. Pathoseus just hugged him so afraid to let go once again. Bawling his eyes out crying like a wet puppy.

(The bottom pic was by @aungcha Oinops’s creator!)

They had there moments…after both calm down, Pathoseus mentioned his sister again. But with Oinops telling him that Apatheinia will most likely visit TOMORROW. Giving Patho peak anxiety but this time he had his love cheering him on…

On the other side, a ship slowly reaching Athens. With a girl ready to mourn the loss of her brother for one last time.

[magicalqueennightmare]

In It Together

John Walker x Mutant Reader (nicknamed Nyx due to mutation being the ability to control shadows)

You and John have been getting closer. When he’s taken, you do whatever to get him back.

Slight mention of a bomb, torture

You grunted when your back hit the mat, barely rolling out of the way when Yelena swung to catch you with her legs. She grinned, “Good and didn’t even use your shadows as a cheat” you winked at her “You don’t ever consider it a cheat when I’m using them to back you up”

She held a hand out to help you to your feet. The two of you had been training for the better part of the last two hours. Ava had joined you two for an hour then she’d left. You were a little spun up and Yelena had picked up on that. “What is it Nyx?” you shook your head “Nothing Lena” 

She picked up her water bottle and took a long swig, staring you down. You shook your head “I’m not a target. I don’t break that easy” she nodded slowly “And it’s nothing to do with the fact that you’re getting close with a certain soldier?”

You sighed, plucking your water bottle off the floor “John is a no go” you didn’t want to approach the fact that you’d pawed at each other in a hotel room in Atlanta while he was still very much a married man.  Of course, he’d gone back to Olivia. You’d lived your life since then but now? It felt weird having these feelings for him. They were… confusing.

“So, the fact that you spend every storm with him to help with his ptsd doesn’t mean anything?”  you rolled your eyes “It’s no different than me doing something to help you or Bob with your trauma” she grinned “You don’t ever look at me the way you look at Walker. I’m jealous” 

You held her eyes and turned your water bottle towards her before squirting her dead center of her face with it. Her mouth fell open in a gasp and she burst out laughing before using her water bottle to do the same. That resulted in a full on water fight. You were both on the mats, laughing when the gym doors opened and you looked up to see John standing in the doorway looking between the two of you with a grin “I thought you two were training for missions. Not a wet t-shirt contest”

Yelena raised both eyebrows at you and you squirted her with the last bit of water you had “Brat” she grinned “Bigger brat” and shoved you off of her. She got to her feet and fixed her shirt before nodding to John “Walker. She’s insane. Have fun” and walked out.

You laid there for a moment, simply staring at her back before looking at John with a shrug “In her defense I did start it” he shook his head and walked over to you, holding his hand out. You slipped your hand into his and he easily pulled you to your feet. “I’m honestly not that surprised to find the two of you soaked in water, laughing your asses off” 

“Jealous?” you teased and he quirked an eyebrow, stepping a little closer “Anytime you want to get soaked with me honey, the only thing you have to do is ask” you felt your face warm and you shook your head “You’re a flirt” he leaned down so his mouth was right next to your ear before saying “You like it”

You slapped his chest playfully “You’re an ass” you started to walk out but stopped and turned to face him “How did the last visitation with your son go?” he grinned “It went good, really good. I may be able to start bringing him here soon” you felt a smile slip onto your face “That is awesome news to start the day. I’ll see you later John”

__________________

John watched you walk out and let out an exhale of breath. Good lord he had to get a handle on the growing feelings he had for you. Since you’d started the movie nights, that had extended into more than just storms he’d been thinking more and more about that night in Atlanta. The way your lips felt on his. That damn little whine you made, how your body felt under his hands. 

He wanted you, he craved you. He knew he couldn’t have you. God he fucked up so much. You were his friend. You cared about him. He could not step over any lines and risk that. No matter how many times he’d wake up with you curled up to his chest after the two of you fell asleep watching movies and his mind had run wild with scenarios of “What if she actually wanted to fall asleep in my arms and wake up still there?”

He shook his head and headed for the weight bench. He just needed to focus and get to work. You deserved him to be your friend. He would be that.  

“John” he heard you before you popped out from behind the couch. He leaned up to look and you laughed “Sorry, still a habit. Same way as Ava phasing” he laughed “I should be used to it. Your shadows have a habit of following me around. Like inky cats” you felt your face warm because you didn’t think he’d noticed that. “Do they bother you?”

He shook his head “It’s kind of comforting. It’s still that same calming effect you’ve always had on me”  you smiled and sat down next to him “Well. Do you want to watch that new movie I was telling you about tonight? It’s finally on streaming… unless you’re busy”

“I’m not busy” he assured you and you smiled “Ok then. I’ll see you later?” he nodded “See you then” 

__________________

You were curled up on your bed, wearing boxers and an old t-shirt when there was a knock at your door. Most of the inhabitants of the tower were either asleep or gone to their own floor. You pushed yourself up off the bed and walked over to open the door. John stood there with a grin “Hey”  he was wearing an old army shirt and black sweats.

You stepped back “Come on then” he walked into your room and you closed the door. A couple weeks before he would be so damn awkward when he came into your room, now however? He would go ahead and make himself comfortable on the bed. You walked around to your side and climbed into the bed, clicking to start the movie. He cleared his throat and when you looked at him he looked down at his chest as an invite. You grinned and scooted closer, laying your chest over on his clothed chest. 

As the movie started his fingers began to trace small shapes onto your shoulders. You were trying to pay attention to the screen but god being in his arms, how gentle he was with you compared to how rough he was any other time? It made it hard. You cut your eyes up at him and he grinned “Darlin, you wanted to watch this movie”

“Sorry” you whispered, turning your eyes back to the screen but he moved faster than you. He grabbed the remote and paused the movie “Hold on now. What’s wrong?” you shook your head “Nothing John” he stared you down “What is it?”

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, your shadows dancing between you and him “Can I confess something?” he nodded slowly “You didn’t hate me when the entire world did. Of course” you swallowed hard, letting your shadows partially conceal you “Uh oh. Must be serious” he laughed, fingers still finding your shoulders despite not being able to see them.

“I keep thinking about that kiss” you whispered, waiting for the worst response but he just nodded slowly, a smile working its way onto his face “Good” your shadows fell “Good what?” his hand moved from your shoulders to cup your face “Because I keep thinking about that kiss too”

“You do?” you whispered and he nodded, eyes going from yours down to your lips. You laughed lightly, just a whisper of a sound “You can kiss me now John” he laughed low “Thank god” and crashed his lips against yours. It was gentle, tentative, giving you time to pull away. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down flush against your body. He groaned as you deepened the kiss, legs hooking around his waist and fingers digging into his shoulders.

His hips rutted against yours causing you to gasp lightly. He used the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. You both pulled away from each other to get air, chest heaving and he chuckled low “Damn” you nodded “Yeah” the tip of his tongue flicked out, tracing his lips like he wanted to savor the taste of you. “I want you Nyx but I won’t have you this first night. I need you to know I actually want you” 

You nodded, pressing another hard kiss to his lips “I want you John but you wanting to wait makes me want you even more” he grinned “Good, will make it worth it” he slid to lay back next to you and pulled you back over onto his chest. You tucked yourself fully against him and he shook his head “Watch your movie baby” you grinned “You’re better looking than a movie” he scoffed “You’re ridiculous” you raised an eyebrow, letting your shadows partially obscure you from him and his eyes widened “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” 

You let them fall and he shook his head “That was mean” you shrugged “You must like something about me” he stared at you, softness in his eyes that was such a rarity “It’s hard to find something I don’t like about you”

You woke up to the feeling of John’s warm body tucked to your back. Wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep in your bed but it was the first time he’d fallen asleep cuddling you. You weren’t complaining about waking up in his arms. The conversation from the night before made a smile slip onto your face.

You turned to face him and god, you loved how relaxed he looked in his sleep. For once he didn’t look so damn tense, like the weight of the world wasn’t on his shoulders. You lifted your hand and let one finger trace his jaw. He twitched slightly, a smile slipping onto his face. You laughed “How long have you been up” he slowly opened those gorgeous blue eyes “Wasn’t gonna interrupt you doing whatever you were doing to me”

You felt your face warm “Wasn’t like I was doing anything dirty” he grinned “Wouldn’t have downright stopped you” and winked at you. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek and he pouted “Done changed your mind?” you shook your head “Morning breath” “I don’t care” he replied and pulled you into his arms before pressing a kiss to your lips that started gentle then grew in intensity. Both of you giving into what you felt for each other after so long. You whimpered when his fingers dipped below your shirt and just before he slipped it up your phone buzzed. He groaned, head dropping to your shoulder “That’s a mission alert. Isn’t it?” 

You nodded “I’m afraid so” “Shit” he cursed, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Raincheck?” he asked and you nodded “Oh definitely” and leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Go get dressed so we can meet everyone for a debrief” he laughed “Yes ma’am”

You stood next to John, listening as Bucky gave a rundown. This was a high alert type of mission. Some hydra base that had been working on a sedative for super soldiers. It effectively neutralized the serum for short stints and therefore was a threat to a bigger population as well.You needed to locate it and destroy any research on it and anyone who would replicate it. 

“Maybe you and John should sit out? Let us handle it” Yelena suggested and you nodded “They can’t hurt us. You two lose your serum, even for a short stint when you’re used to it? That could be bad” Bucky and John both stared you down “We can handle it” you, Yelena and Ava all three groaned in unison “Men”

The plan was simple. Yelena would be with Bucky. You with John while Ava phased throughout the base, trying to locate the sedative. 

You walked out of the meeting to go finish grabbing your gear and heard John’s boots behind you in the hall. When you went around a corner his hand wrapped around your upper arm “Nyx” you turned to face him “What?” he walked you back against the wall, taller frame caging you in “What’s wrong?” you were about to lie and say nothing but then you looked down and saw your shadows creeping up his legs. “Worried about you and Bucky with this shit” 

“Aww baby, we’ll be fine. I promise” he whispered, leaning down to brush a gentle kiss against your lips. “I really care about you John. We’re barely figuring this thing out between us. I don’t want anything to happen to you” you whispered and he grinned “I really care about you too. I’ll be ok. I’ve survived every war torn country on this planet before the serum. I’ll be fine” 

The two of you shared another kiss then he laughed lightly “We really need to go before someone comes looking for us” you nodded “I know” and pulled him back down to press another kiss to his lips “Now we can go”

The base was a lot bigger than any of you realized. Big enough Ava would have her work cut out for her while the rest of you just made sure if anyone was home they kept their eyes on you. You slipped down a hallway following John’s broad back. Your steps were silent, you made sure of it. Your shadows helped to muffle your already careful steps.

You could feel the little inky tendrils flowing up your arms. Something was up. John must have felt it too because he glanced back at you before continuing on. You spread your shadows out, letting them fill the tiny cracks in the floor, the roof tiles. They could find out more about this place than you ever could. You felt it, the other bodies. “John” you barely breathed before an explosion blasted you against a wall, the last thing you saw before blood blurred your vision was John fighting a hallway full of guards.

Bucky and Yelena felt the explosion when it went off and sent Ava first. They’d gotten the sedative formula but the scientist responsible for it had gotten away. If they had just one vial and realized John was in the base too..

“Get here now!” Ava warned over the coms and they both pushed to run faster. When they got to her the hallway was covered in blood, you were barely coming around in her arms and John was nowhere to be found. “What the fuck happened?” Bucky questioned and she waved her arms around “They lured us in and grabbed Walker from the looks of it. The one super soldier not a lot of people care about” 

“Speak for yourself” you mumbled, pushing your body up. Bucky came to your side “Nyx?” you held your head, looking at him “We gotta get him back Bucky” “We will”

John woke up with the worst headache of his life. He groaned and tried to tug at his arms but they were chained over his head. Fuck. “Nice of you to wake up” a voice said before a shorter man walked into his view “And who the fuck are you? Some creepy little shit who calls himself a scientist?”

“Such an attitude for someone in your position” the man laughed, tapping an IV John realized was running into his arm. The god damn sedative. “You found a guinea pig” the man grinned “Precisely. If this can neutralize the serum in your veins we can possibly weaponize it against other threats, perhaps we should have grabbed the pretty little shadow caller you risked your life for”

That made John stand up a little straighter, arms clenching a little tighter “If a single one of you sons of bitches laid a finger on her” “You took out half the guards I had there to ensure we didn’t. Don’t worry” he glared at the man, thinking about you, bleeding on the floor. Fuck he hoped Bucky got to you. 

“Have we located his damned tracker!” you felt half insane. The longer you stared at the monitor, the worse the knot in your stomach got. He’d just gotten back in with seeing his son regularly. He was working on building some sort of relationship with Olivia. He was trying to fix mistakes. 

“We’ll find him” Yelena assured you, her hand on your shoulder. You nodded, taking a deep breath. You’d pretty much blown any chance of keeping your feelings for John away from the team the moment you realized he was gone. Your shadows had ripped apart the base piece by piece. 

Yelena had said “Best destruction I’ve ever seen” Bucky’s words were “Holy shit. No wonder we called you in to help with Thanos’ army” and Ava had just kind of smirked “Damn”

Now however? They were as restless as you were. The damn things were seeking out John and not finding him and they were pissed. A loud ding went off and Bucky met your eyes “Can you control yourself?” “Yes” you promised and he nodded “Gear up. We roll out in five”

So far the sedative was working. John’s body hadn’t even begun to heal any of the injuries that had been inflicted on him that should have been halfway gone by now. They had him chained to the roof, had stripped half his suit off and was attempting to see what weapon “Hurt a downed super soldier” the best. Joke was on them, torture wasn’t something new to him.

He grunted when another blade bit into his side. “Fuck you” he growled out between gritted teeth. Assholes. The door cracked open and he’d learned their routine by now. Time alone to nearly pass out then more torture then the so called scientist.

“Mr Walker” the man started and John spit a mouthful of blood out at his feet “Fuck off” the longer he kept them preoccupied with him, the longer you were safe. He didn’t know if anyone was looking for him.Didn’t know if anyone could find him.  Maybe this was the end he deserved after all?

“Just be more agreeable. Help us” the man tried and John laughed “Go to hell” “Very well” the man nodded to the guards who picked up the blades again. Gunfire sounded in the hallway, the guards radio crackling to life “What the fuck is this shit?” the guard stepped back from John to respond “Come again?” 

John used the moment to work air into his lungs that burnt the entire way down. “Shadows” was all the guard in the hallway got out before his voice was cut off by what sounded like choking.

The scientist and other guard looked at him as little slivers of darkness started to slip in under the door “Your shadow caller” the scientist whispered and John watched the shadows lunge towards the scientist and guard. “Yeah and looks like she’s pissed”

He’d seen you use your powers in a lot of ways. He’d never seen them crawl down someone’s throat and nose and choke the life out of them from the inside out. The guard and scientist both fell to the ground convulsing. When it was clear from the angles their bodies were at they were gone the shadows crept back out of them and over to him, up his body and around his bare top half, barely kissing his injuries. 

They felt warm where they touched his skin, almost close to your touch. They skittered across his face then down and back under the door. A few seconds later the door was getting pulled off the hinges and there stood you and Bucky. “Get the IV out of him. I’ll get him down then” Bucky ordered and you came into the room.

One of your hands gently cupped his cheek “Hey baby” he smiled weakly “Hey honey” you moved to pluck the iv out of his arm, ripping your suit to wrap around it to stop bleeding then Bucky snapped the chains to get him down. He eyed the chains and you explained “Your strength will return in a couple hours. The serum has to cycle through without that shit being pumped in” 

“You got him?” Bucky asked you and John was about to argue that he was too tall for you to support but he felt the same warmth of your shadows come under him and realized they were helping you. You nodded to Bucky, grabbing his suit and kicking the scientist’s body on the way out.

When all of you made it out into the hall the place looked like a bomb had gone off with the damage but walls were still standing and too many bodies weren’t bloodied. “What the hell happened?” John muttered and Bucky cut his eyes at you “They pissed her off” 

You sat next to John in med bay. Turns out he and Bucky had the same blood type so Bucky offered some blood to help go ahead and flush the sedative out of his system. You were monitoring him to make sure his wounds were mending like they should. He’d been asleep for a while. He shifted in the bed and your eyes flew up to see his blue ones staring back at you “Hey darlin” his voice was low and gruff, the effects of everything his body had taken was wearing on him. “Hey” you whispered, fingers tracing over his bare chest and the worst of wounds that were still healing. 

His hand covered yours “Nyx, that was..” he trailed off and you grimaced. Here it came. Horrifying? Terrible? The moment he realized just how different you were from Olivia and there was no way he could ever pursue this thing even if you ripped through that place to save his life.

“Amazing” he finished and your eyes widened “What?” he swallowed hard “No one’s ever done anything like that for me. I’ve always done the saving with the pretense that if you go down, you’re down. You terrified them baby” you laughed, more from shock than humor “They hurt you”

He grinned, wincing from a pain in his side “They called you my shadow caller” you scrunched up your nose “Does that make you my super soldier?” he nodded “If you’ll still have me?” 

You stood and leaned over to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tried to pull you down closer but you shook your head “You’re hurt” he pouted playfully so you gave him another quick kiss before gently grabbing his chin so he had to look you in the eye “That scared me. The explosion, you facing off with so many men then waking up to you gone.. I thought..” 

“Scared me too, they threatened you” he whispered and you laughed lightly “We’re actually in this together now aren’t we?” he nodded “Looks like it” 

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth and he raised an eyebrow “I’m still in med bay and you’re worrying. What’s wrong?” “Are you sure?” you whispered, eyes dropping. One of his hands found your hip, tugging you closer “When I get out of here I’ll show you how sure I am”

“You’re a flirt” you laughed with a shake of your head. He shrugged “You wiped out a base to get to me. You must like it” “Oh I do” you replied before leaning down to catch his lips in another kiss.

[shdrum]

UNSPOKEN

choi beomgyu x male reader

summary: where you express your feelings for him through small gifts.

it started with a keychain.

a soft, cute plush bear.

now hanging from his bag, serving as a reminder. that voice still rang in his head.

'it reminded me of you.'

you and beomgyu had been sitting side by side on a lone brick wall near the college building, sipping cheap vending machine drinks and store-bought snacks.

you jolted up right— suddenly remembering something— dug into your bag, and held out the little bear.

beomgyu looked at it. then at you. then back at the keychain.

"... that for me?"

you nodded. shoving the gift into his hands.

"thought you'd like it. reminded me of you"

he tried to suppress a smile, but the small twitch of his lips betrayed him. "you think i look like one?"

"yeah. soft. kinda dumb," a teasing glint in your eyes.

"hey!" he said, giving you a playful shove.

"you do know you can just compliment me, right? no need to insult me."

"dunno. have to balance it out, i have a nonchalant persona to maintain." you replied with a smirk.

that set him off giggling, "you're so stupid."

he clipped it to the zipper of his backpack, deciding not to think too hard about it, but his chest felt a little too warm for a late fall morning.

it became a habit.

a small box containing a silver bracelet inside with a little guitar charm.

a leather-bound notebook for him write lyrics in— once you noticed it was a hobby of his.

a pack of cookies left on his desk when you realized he often forgot to bring lunch.

each time, you said the same thing.

he never made a big fuss, playing it off with playful jokes and teasing smiles.

but he kept everything. you noticed.

—

"you know," beomgyu said one day, while he laid under a tree, finding shapes in the clouds drifting past. "most people flirt with compliments."

the boy beside him stretched, arms crossed behind his head. "you think my method’s inferior?"

"i think you're oddly consistent," he replied, still gazing at the sky.

you turned to look at him. "consistency is romantic."

"...and kinda annoying." he retorted back, teasing.

you smirked. "still carrying the keychain?"

beomgyu said nothing.

he didn’t need to.

the cd came next.

it was a quiet friday night when you knocked on his dorm door, holding a plastic case with a cracked corner and messy handwriting on the front.

'soft hours. play me when...'

"you made me a mixtape?" beomgyu asked, genuinely surprised.

"don't make it weird," you mumbled. "they're just... songs for different occasions or ones i listen to when i think about you. it's whatever, really."

beomgyu's heart was doing flips. he turned over the cd, reading the tracklist, smiling to himself. "this is... really sweet."

"shut up. just play it already."

both of you sat cross-legged on the dorm floor, leaning against the edge of the bed. listening to the soft hum of acoustics and the occasional pop beats— just enjoying each other's presence.

beomgyu started returning the favor.

little things.

a tea bag labeled 'for your stress.'

a note on your desk: 'don't stress yourself out. drink water and take a nap.'

phone stickers of silly little animals.

then came winter.

snow dusted the courtyard. every student bundled in scarves and mittens, hands buried in jacket pockets.

your nose turned red. beomgyu's hands were always cold.

you didn't talk about what you were, didn't put a label to it. not yet.

but you shared more time, more space.

so when you handed him a box one late december evening—grey paper, black ribbon— beomgyu didn’t even question it.

the same gentle routine, the same phrase.

inside the box there was a small handmade ceramic parrot, imperfect. a crack in the glaze, lopsided head.

beomgyu stared at it for a long time. holding it like it was fragile, sacred; something to be preserved.

"...did you make this?"

you nodded. "took a pottery class. you said i needed a hobby,"

"why do you keep giving me things?" his voice was softer than usual, eyes searching your face for something real.

"because i don’t always know how to say things." you looked down, shrugging like it was nothing.

beomgyu took a breath. then—

"say it now."

you looked up, wide eyed. a flicker of vulnerability crossing your features.

finally you gained up the courage.

"you remind me of warm things. the kind of things that make you feel less alone, secure. i like myself when i'm with you. i don't know when i started thinking about you this way, but i did. now i can't stop."

he took a step closer. "you forgot to say something."

you blinked. "what you mean?"

"say you want to kiss me."

you stared at him. then laughed—breathless, nervous.

"i want to kiss you."

so you did.

that was the final gift.

not a mixtape. not a bracelet. not a plushy bear.

just the quiet, slow burn of feelings that had been building over time.

this moment— right here, just the two of you, felt like the most important thing you’d ever hold onto.

notes: thank you for reading! english is not my first language and feedback is very much appreciated.

[aroaceoutsiders]

outsiders 6/25 evening show notes! long as hell buckle up divas

- sorry so many of these are about jpc i just think he’s neat okay 😔 feel free to shoot me an ask about anything you want to hear more on!

- the sweetest older lady was sitting next to me and during intermission she asked me if i was enjoying the show and i was like “yeah it’s my second time seeing it” and she was like really impressed and pointed me out to the rest of her family (who she was sitting with) and said “see she liked it so much she came back a second time”

- we were both crying in tandem during the end of act two and i gave her a tissue

- jpc soda and anna ace are literally best friends they played UP the fake flirting & they kept putting their faces really close to each other and fake making out

- post johnnys death jpc came up behind anna and pulled her into his chest from behind and like rocked back and forth

- jpc soda has these moments where he seems so tired even at the beginning of the show - he’s always putting his face in his hands or like propping up his head with his hands and just generally exhausted

- i can’t find the post now but it reminded me of that post someone made a while back with quotes from the book that show soda being constantly exhausted and napping

- however jpc also gave appropriate annoying middle brother energy in GGAH he kept like sidling up to brent and doing finger guns at him and poking him and brent was like batting him away they’re literally the brothers ever

- in the pre great expectations scene trevi asked “do YOU dream about them?” in a different way - brody does it as if he’s just kind of asking soda off the cuff, but trevi’s tone makes it almost seem like a “you dream about them too? so i’m not the only one having these nightmares?” which is such a heartbreaking interpretation

- when ajg dally exited during the drive in scene he shoved trip (cole) who actually fell to his knees

- jena & devin were having their lavender bevbrill moment HAPPY PRIDE 🏳️‍🌈 they hammed up the romance and were making out during the entirety of i could talk to you all night LMAO

- from where i was sitting they did not separate their faces ONCE

- sg and dan berry said paul and marcia bestie rights….during tulsa 67 they had like a little moment where they held hands and dan whispered smth into her ear and she giggled

- during the end of i could talk to you all night when everyone is facing the back of the set marcia was sitting between paul and trip with her arms around both of them

- during hopeless war the socs stand around the fountain and pass around a flask and they each toast to bob which is such a neat detail

- trevi is SUCH a kid. his “burt lancaster’s a sissy!!!!!”was hilarious

- on a more depressing note during johnnys death scene he kept repeating “no” really softly and it genuinely broke my heart like oh my god that’s literally a child who just lost his best friend

- jpc soda jpc soda jpc soda. where do i begin - he’s so so affectionate with pony & the hug post johnnys death was actually SICKENING jpc like sat down and pulled trevi in between his legs and full body hugged him from behind and BURIED his face in pony’s hair

- as a self proclaimed soda pony hug connoisseur and this one was just perfect

- one thing no one ever mentions is how the rain from the rumble is still like just barely dripping onto the stage during little brother - idk if it’s an intentional choice or just how the rain system works but i think it adds such a chilling effect to the song. ajg was actually on fire through that whole song too it was my first time seeing him & he is so so good

- jpc also made me lose it during the scene before stay gold - when trevi took the letter from him to start reading jpc sat down next to him and started STROKING PONY’S HAIR and i actually started bawling and didn’t stop crying until the end of bows

- the dinner scene was so so good. something about the brent jpc trevi combo just screams real brothers to me like they are so believable as brothers and you can FEEL how much they love each other

[kissingraine]

watch me pull a ‘it's supposed to be a three-part fic but break it down into multiple chapters’ move (i promise ill pull through chat🙏🏻)

mass-shifted mech

Lust for Life — G1 Insecticons x f!Reader (2.1)

• You like to think you’ve gotten a little closer after that. They trusted you enough to reveal what they are—though not exactly what kind. Big metal bugs that can turn into humanoid robots. That name’s gotta be shorter if you intend to officially put them in your journal. Shrapnel’s the easiest to get close to—funny and always dragging you to bug hotspots. Yeah. He goes hunting for the small suckers with you now. Something about EM fields. First time he heard the term, though? He nearly flipped out while repeating the last word in your sentence. And by flipping out, that meant almost zapping you like an eel stunning prey. You’ve made sure to explain exactly what you mean around him since then.

He doesn’t get why you insist on sticking to their de facto leader like a fragging bu—anyways. Kickback’s tried to squeeze the answer out of you, but it’s always the same thing. He’s funnier. Likes when you talk about their carapace under the sun. As if Shrapnel actually gave a scrap about that. But he gets it—he’s the ‘leader,’ and he’s supposed to be the one good at making people spill their secrets. Bombshell’s been spending nights on your couch watching bland organic soap operas—telenovelas—at 3AM. And… having very civilized discourse about which kid is going to get kidnapped next.

“See, right there,” you point, sitting on one edge of the couch while he’s on the other. One side tipping slightly because of how much he literally weighs. Two tons of pure metal. Can’t get any heavier than that. “That little girl is gonna get kidnapped while Daniel and Paulina over there flirt with each other.”

Bombshell vents, mass-shifted and leaning against the armrest, “Quite typical of your species, to be so engrossed with each other that they lose sight of their surroundings.”

“It’s called a fixation. Or, an obsession.” You shrug.

“Primitive.” Then you give Bombshell that look—one eyebrow raised and a half-smile like he amuses you. The way you amuse them. But it isn’t just that—it’s something warmer too. “It’s a very real and horrifying feeling, Shelly.”

Incessant little human. He’s told you many times that a respectable Insecticon of his caliber doesn’t do pet names—but you keep insisting. Because it’s satisfying to talk about something other than their war. Because it’s amusing to see you blabber about weak and useless human connections with him through the night—he lets you keep your head. All for the sake of documenting your habits in order to tempt you better. Shrapnel thinks it’s smarter to know more about you so they can get what they want, even though he could just charm you into it. Knows something is wrong. That you’ve done something to their leader, and he’s dying to find out what.

�� Bombshell was different from Shrapnel and Kickback, as you soon found out from the other beetle. “He excels in mental warfare—warfare,” Shrapnel had mentioned in passing one afternoon.

“So, he’s a tactician?” you ask, ducking under a fallen tree log.

“You give him too much credit, squishy,” Kickback chimes in with a twitch of a wing, growling as he taps a clawed servo at your forehead. “He’s just as dangerous as we are, if not far more. Who knows what really goes on in that processor of his.”

• You’ve learned a bit of the grasshopper mech’s habits by now. And that’s the look he makes when he dares you to find out for yourself. Probably a good idea to be cautious around this guy—Insecticon genius, as he so often calls himself while ranting but there’s no denying Bombshell’s interest in telenovela mind games. It’s hard to predict. That’s probably the only reason he even entertains watching with you. It’s become routine. He waits outside, you let him in, and you both watch, then debate. Five minutes later, Eva—Paulina’s stepdaughter, the glue and everyone’s emotional center—gets kidnapped while Ave Maria plays in the background.

Why? How? The number of times he’s lost trying to predict it is taking up all the digits on one servo. And you laugh when the little girl eventually gets kidnapped by her mother’s evil twin sister. Not even because of what’s on TV, but at his reaction. He’s standing in disbelief like the show suddenly deserved a standing ovation for being so predictable.

“See? Told you. Nine years of watching this stuff, you get good at predicting even the wildest plots,” you say, just to rub it in.

Silence.

• He doesn’t answer. Just stares at the screen, then down at his claws. And something subtle, strangely human flashes across his face. Hard to tell with the mask on, but it’s definitely there. Defeat. Quiet devastation, you think. The brilliant manipulator outplayed by a human girl too interested in bugs. Then—he stands abruptly, towering, muttering something about statistical anomalies before sitting back down the same way you do when it’s the weekend. And the couch tilts hard to one side under his weight. You yelp as the momentum drags you across the cushions like a pinball, colliding into his side with a muffled oof.

You’re squished against him, he realizes. Soft and warm, right beside him, and he stiffens. So do you, while the telenovela continues to blare in the background. Neither of you are breathing. Just refusing to look at each other or move. Up close, you smell even sweeter to his olfactory receptors. And Bombshell’s suddenly aware why Kickback has been so insistent on this. It’s his job to get you ready for nesting, but the way you looked at that moment didn’t make him feel like he was doing it out of obligation. And what dignified Insecticon would let an organic be his undoing?

“You’re warm,” he rumbles, unconsciously. Like your warmth had pulled the words from his intake.

• You don’t think Bombshell has noticed the way one of his clawed hands has snaked around your side—slow and tentative, pressing you closer while you have an internal crisis. It’s sorta your fault for thinking you’d be fine, but the heat since the first time they revealed what they were hasn’t faded. Actually, it’s much more visceral now. The kind of visceral that makes you want to sit in his lap and fall asleep against his chest.

“And y-you’re heavy,” you reply, distracting yourself as you try to stand up.

• Except—his servo doesn’t let go. It tightens just slightly, not restraining… but holding. Like letting you go wasn’t yet an option.

“Stay,” Bombshell says, low and deliberate. There’s no command in his voice. Just… want. The screen flickers. Ave Maria ends. You’re not sure if the sudden warmth flooding your face is embarrassment, realization, or something else entirely. Maybe all three.

“I don’t…” you begin, but stop because you do.

He glances at you sideways, optics dimmer than usual. “For data collection,” he adds after a beat.

It’s a lie. A stupid, flimsy one.

But you nod. “Sure,” you whisper, letting your body relax against his.

“For science.”

Previous

also- look who i found at my local department store👀 ladies and gentlemechs i present you to you, Ptimus Orime and Bumble-not-bee😭😭 i didnt get them cuz they looked like bootleg versions lmfaooo and they were pricey for no reason?! idek who's the third one supposed to be.

[h0estar]

What do u think is the difference between the Apothecary diaries world and our current world's reality? Is the modern world we live in now, capitalistic as a primary? What do you think Jinshi and Maomao's position would be in our world? I mean regarding on their circumstances— I have a scenario like Tamaki and Haruhi from Ouran Host Club. But still, our world is more complex and diverse in technology fields than Ouran Host club world. And given the revolution of artificial intelligence, coming next 5 years would be totally different.

okay, first of all, very interesting question. second of all, my brain isn't built for something like this but i will try to answer as best as i can. sorry if i don't answer it as well as you expect me to but i'll try!

i'm going to point out the obvious here and say our modern reality (esp for women) isn't as harsh as it is in the apothecary diaries' world. for one, women in their time had practically zero rights and respect (though that is still very much happening today in some places). however, at least most women irl have access to education, voting rights, vast career options, free will and speech, and generally just be able to live their life independently without relying on men. at least in our world, women have laws protecting them against violence and sexual acts, and it's no longer a requirement to marry, bear children, and live for your husband; that's just a choice out of many—something the average woman in TAD universe could never dream of experiencing.

i'd say capitalism is one thing both this fictional story and our current reality have in common. just like irl, characters (mostly commoners) in TAD are scraping by to make profit: maomao with her apothecary shop, granny with the verdigris house, quack's family with their paper business, gyokuen with his family and the WC, and we've got mentions of merchants a lot in the story. there's also a moment in the manga i remember where maomao was carting books to the palace and she planned to overcharge Jinshi (wringing him out for his money to gain extra profit. go maomao!), too bad suiren caught her lol. anyway, yeah, like IRL the commoners are doing what they can to survive, while the important and rich ones (the royalty and ministers) cozy up in the court and palace, completely indifferent to the state of small villages and townsfolk outside (the farming villages affected by taxes, women in the red light district, kidnappings, slavery, etc).

as for jinshi and maomao's positions in our world, hmm, this is purely imagination but if we follow their ages (maomao at 20 and jinshi at 21), that'd make them college students. maomao would definitely be a pharmacy student and might even go to medical school. she'd also own a flower shop 100%, or at least a botanical shop. jinshi would probably be studying economics, anything business-related, or international relations. that's as far as my imagination will take me.

and if they're going to be like tamaki x haruhi in this little modern world, then maomao might accidentally ruin one of jinshi's projects (in the name of science!) and she'd have to pay him back by working for him (idk how; maybe by being his personal medic or offering him tips on how to make business out of medicines lol). or maybe jinshi just might stumble in maomao's little flower shop by chance, and find her studying, completely disinterested in him (despite his popularity), and this throws him off, lol. either way, i'm fairly certain they'll still find each other in this world, and in many worlds.

the two of them would also be fascinated by technology (both their hypothetical degrees often heavily rely on it), but they would probably reject the notion of using AI in extremely simple, practical, or professional tasks. however, jinshi has a progressive mindset and maomao just goes with the flow. they might accept this technological advancement (as part of the world)—they wouldn't try to fight it—but they also wouldn't use it as often.

thanks for this question lol. sorry i took so long to respond, i haven't been on tumblr for 2 days oops.

[pheastinyworld]

lazy mornings ❀•°•───────•

Word count: 0.96k

Warnings: none??

author's note: this is for my darling @perre4ult cause she's not feeling well and she gave me this idea (also kay's not feeling good either, you two seriously need to get better). sorry its a bit short...

| phe's main masterlist |

the night before, you had been watching a movie in gabe’s dorm room. you both had managed to find some spare time in between your studying and his hockey schedule. it was perfect, the two of your bodies snuggled up together, laptop perched up against your legs, as you both just bathed in each other’s presence. 

“i don't know if i can stay up any longer,” you had said, mumbling in your tired state. 

gabe nodded, stroking your hair and placing a kiss on top of your head. “don't worry, go to sleep baby.”

of course, somewhere in between the soft kisses and the time creeping closer to midnight, you did in fact drift into sleep; the movie long forgotten. gabe, fighting to keep his eyes awake, managed to put the laptop away with his free hand. the other arm stayed as still as possible around you, your back leaning against it. he would never dare to wake you up. 

it was now morning and your eyes were the first to open, your hand going to rub the remnants of sleep that had caught on your eyelashes. disorientated at first - the dark-colored sheets and the faint, soapy scent so unlike your usual white linens and lavender - you settled as the steady rise and fall behind you made it clear you were in gabe’s arms.

warm breaths of air tickled your neck from behind. one arm was draped across your waist, pulling you into him so you couldn’t possibly be even an inch apart. gabe shifted against you, nuzzling his face further into your neck as he tried to will himself back into sleep, sighing contently as he hugged you close. 

you cherished these moments, the warm sun pouring in through the small window, your boyfriend clinging to you like he was scared you were going to vanish into thin air. 

you felt his eyelashes flutter open against your skin and almost immediately, gentle, delicate lips pressed sleepy kisses along your neck, making you feel all fuzzy inside. the edges of your lips tugged up and you slowly turned yourself onto your other side so you were facing him.

gabe nearly melted when you slipped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his chest. honestly, he was still surprised and very much coming to terms with the fact he actually got to do this; got to wake up next to you, being met with that affectionate glint flickering in your eyes that was reserved just for him. it made him want to combust. 

“morning,” his voice was low and rasped from the back of his throat, but it was the most comforting thing. you just hummed in response.  

one of his hands left your waist and came up to brush the hair out of your face, tired eyes peering down to his chest where you were trying to lull yourself back to sleep but failing. 

“y’look really pretty right now.” he muttered, awkwardly craning his neck down to kiss your tinted cheeks that were blushing from his words.

“shut up, ‘just woke up. i know you’re lying.” you laughed, opening one of your eyes and pulling your head back to get a good look at him. 

gabe rolled his eyes and pressed against the small of your back, bringing you into his middle, legs tangling lazily with yours. 

“you calling me a liar?” his voice was playful as he pinched the skin of your hips making you squirm.

“oh absolutely.” 

he looked so boyish when he first woke up; hair sticking up in every direction, all messy, bits falling down into his forehead. he looked so soft, you almost couldn’t bear it. 

“definitely not lying.” he smiled, that cute little sleepy smile, all shy and sheepish, like he wanted to hide back into your neck. 

he was just so perfect you couldn’t resist anymore, you needed to smother him in kisses. as if he knew you had made this decision, he leaned in closer just so you could reach him, allowing you to press a kiss onto the tip of his nose, trailing across to his blushed up cheeks. 

you felt him hum contently, wandering hands slipping under the hoodie you wore and beginning to trace delicate circles on your back, gently moving his fingers against your spine.

you two barely even needed to speak, just wanted to be close to one another. it was so sickeningly sweet. 

he seemed to lean into your touch once you lingered on his lips, lazy kisses, all broken when you started to giggle against him.

“morning breath,” you complained, trying to pull away but gabe continued to chase for your lips.

“don't whine.” he chuckled, managing to catch your lips again. “let me do my favorite morning routine.” 

you snorted, sweeping back his tangled hair that was tickling your face, then brushing through the brunette locks with your fingers. “morning routine?” you questioned.

“mhm.” gabe nodded softly, his lips resting against your forehead as he breathed you in with his eyes gently shut. “got to make up for all the times throughout the day when i don't get to kiss my pretty girlfriend.” 

as if to make his point concrete, he grinned down at you and pressed a slow kiss against your lips, mouth warm and soft. it was the sort of kiss that sent shivers up your back and you absolutely melted into him. 

when gabe finally pulled away, he didn’t go far; his face stayed close, nose brushing against yours and both of you were caught mirroring the same kind of smile, all full of love. 

“i love you.” he whispered like he only wanted you to hear it.

“i love you too.” 

slow, lazy mornings were your favorite.

[snowbellewells]

Birthday Fic for @kmomof4: "Dreams that You Wish Will Come True" {Part Three} *Story Now Complete*

Oh goodness, the day is finally here! Poor Krystal @kmomof4 had to wait almost until her next birthday for her gift to be finished, but here is the last chapter to this Reverse Cinderella CS AU. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I really enjoyed trying to tie this up with a big fairy tale happy ending bow! I hope all of you reading it will enjoy and let me know what you think.

Without further adieu, here is Part Three...

Summary: Granted a night to seek adventure and dreams, young Killian Jones meets young Princess Emma at her birthday ball. Though the moment is filled with all the excitement and magic of the best fairy tales, it is over too soon and he must leave before the dream is shattered. Will they find each other again?

A Reverse Cinderella AU for (@kmomof4) Krystal's Birthday

You can also read from the beginning here on Tumblr, or on AO3, if that is your preference...

Part Three

When Killian managed to escape the palace, slipping through the wide front gates with a deep sigh of relief, he could see the carriage in which he had arrived waiting for him, Liam beckoning him frantically from the window. He had no time to mourn leaving the stunning princess - who had seemed to wish he would stay - or the marvelous evening he had enjoyed. He did not know the exact consequences which would be visited on him if he missed his given deadline, but he did not relish finding out, particularly in front of an entire ball’s audience as witnesses. Her Royal Highness Emma of Misthaven had beguiled him completely, more than he would have even imagined possible, and he would have remained there beside her on that balcony, or holding her in his arms as they danced, forever if it were possible, but it was simply not to be.

It was only as he was seated and they were speeding away from the castle that Killian delved his hand into his pocket, fishing for the ring that had once belonged to their mother so he could return it to Liam’s care. But to his surprised dismay, his fingers brushed only the inside of his pockets, not a smooth curve of metal. Withdrawing his hand with a sinking feeling, Killian looked to his elder sibling forlornly, knowing his brother would immediately sense something was not right.

“What is it, Little Brother?” Liam spoke up right on cue, concern evident in the crack of his voice. “I realize you had to leave the party early, but your face suddenly looks as if something much worse has happened.”

It was a testament to just how upset Killian was that the customary instinct to correct his brother’s annoying choice of moniker didn’t even whisper in his mind. Drawing in a resigned breath, it was all Killian could do to meet Liam’s eye, though determined to give him at least that much. Instead, he pulled both pockets inside out to demonstrate the proof of his words. “Liam, forgive me, but Mother’s ring is no longer here. I didn’t take it out. I felt its presence at my side often throughout the night, and yet… now…it is gone.”

Both of the Jones brothers seemed sunk in painful silence after that, not sure what - if any - words there were to offer after such an irreversible finding. The ring was not intrinsically of value, but it was priceless as a physical tie to the woman who bore them and loved them both with all she had until life was taken from her much too soon. Liam looked out the window, wondering how to ease this pain and how to ease Killian’s obvious guilt for something that was not his fault at all, just an unfortunate loss which could have happened to anyone. A muscle worked in his jaw, causing Killian to incorrectly assumer anger or irritation as he snuck glances at Liam, causing him to berate himself even further. He tried to replay the events of the evening - difficult because his focus had narrowed to little beyond the Princess Emma once she’d spoken to him - desperate to come up with any moment, any place, the ring might have been lost. And still he came up with nothing.

Killian had already been saddened by having to leave the beautiful young woman who had needed only moments to steal his heart, but his spirits had sunken lower still with the loss of the irreplaceable keepsake with which Liam had entrusted him. As the carriage slowed upon the cobblestone streets leading down to the docks, the wheels rolled to a halt and Liam reached out to grasp his forearm tightly; a grasp firm, but far from being harsh or painful. His brother’s eyes were stormy slate, almost gray instead of their normal slightly darker blue than his own. Yet, Killian finally realized, they held a hurt, yes, but none of the recrimination or blame he had assumed. 

“Brother, it wasn’t your fault,” Liam rasped, holding his gaze steadily in a bid to convey his seriousness. “You did nothing wrong. The ring is gone, aye, but naught can be done about it now. These things happen, and we shall simply have to go on without it.”

Killian blinked, nonplussed, uncertain that he had heard Liam correctly. “But y-you kept it safe all this time… a-and the first time you trusted me with it, I - I lost it… The one thing we still had of Mother’s,” Killian stammered, eyes falling to his lap.

“Yes, but Killian,” Liam soothed, calloused forefinger curling under his chin to tip Killian’s face up to meet his own once more, “it was an accident - one that could have happened to me just as easily, or to anyone, for that matter. Besides, it is still just a thing, precious as it was to us for being hers. It isn’t her; holding onto it won’t bring her back. We still have our memories, with or without the talisman to accompany them.”

Killian was speechless and overcome at those words, and at the certain knowledge that Liam meant them sincerely. Finally, he managed to nod his understanding and swallowed hard, though he was unable to force any words past the lump in his throat. Leaning over where their knees nearly met between the facing carriage seats, he threw his arms around his brother’s neck, embracing him tightly. “Thank you,” he finally managed wetly against Liam’s shoulder.

To which Liam merely hummed lowly, returned his embrace and patted his back until they parted, much calmer and more at ease.

Stepping down the cobblestone byway, Killian barely took note of the horse and driver clattering off - brought by magic and obviously returning the same way. He looked down to the end of the dock. Through the misty lantern-lit dim of earliest morning, he could see where their ship bobbed gently in her berth. No matter what he had experienced this night - the magical, enthralling moments he could never have dreamed if they hadn’t been true, the panicked flight as the clock struck midnight, and the horrible loss of their family token, the first charming blush of love and the aching pull of tearing himself from her - he had come full circle back to where he’d begun. He would never forget the magical meeting, the chance to dance with the princess herself; yet, it had not truly changed anything, now that it was over. He would still board the ship again, working side-by-side with his brother until they were free, and he would simply have to treasure what he remembered of the marvelous night he had been gifted. For one night, he could have almost imagined he was a prince to match her in a happily ever after. And that would have to be enough for him.

~~~~*~~~~

Though Killian would not have thought it possible in the immediate aftermath, and he had been loathe to open his eyes to the familiar bunk and crowded quarters the morning following Princess Emma’s birthday ball, life did rather quickly settle back into its familiar rhythm. It certainly wasn’t the fine clothing, rich food, and orchestral music he had experienced for those few fleeting hours at the royal palace, nor would climbing up to the crow’s nest for lookout duty or the well-rehearsed way he and Cook wove and slipped around each other in the limited galley space to prepare and serve the crew’s meals be anything equal to the unforgettable whirl of the dances he had shared with his blonde siren that night. But, though there was an ache in his chest, a void he had not known existed until meeting her, Killian Jones was much too busy, worked much too hard from dawn until dark to dwell, or grow truly miserable. He wished he had not been forced to leave the way he had, that he could have at least taken time to explain to the princess, but he tried to be comforted by the fact that she surely was not suffering for it; Princess Emma must have forgotten all about him before the week was out. He was a nobody with whom she had shared barely an hour, and with all the other suitors and friends and family by which she was surrounded, she would obviously be right as rain in no time.

As if they had never met.

If only that weren’t the opposite of comfort to him.

And if only he truly believed it.

Occasionally, on quiet night when his duties were completed and he could slip away without being noticed, Killian sat on deck, looking up at the stars silently, thinking even their heavenly glow could not match the sparkle of her green eyes. It was some tiny solace that, as far removed as he was from her, if Emma looked up to the sky as well, they would be gazing at the very same stars.

He simply could not relinquish the small flare of hope that had been ignited inside by either the incredible night, or the magic of his fairy godmother, or some strange amalgamation of the two. Sometimes, he even swore he heard Nova’s small, musical voice whispering in his ear amidst the quiet sky and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull, telling him not to give up, his story was not over yet.

Killian Jones, well out to sea and far away from the happenings of Misthaven and the talk of those who lived there, had no way of knowing that far from being forgotten, his princess thought of him every day. She tried valiantly to conceal her emotions, to appear normal and unfazed by the fact that the young man to whom she had given her undivided attention and favor had fled from her ball - and her - and seemingly disappeared. The ones who knew her best were hardly fooled, but they allowed Emma her brave face. After all, she was still searching for him.

When Will had first shown her the antique ring on the worn chain and told her it had been in the pocket of the young man who’d captured her heart, Emma had taken it as a sign. The fact that she held in her possession an item that was obviously dear to him had been some encouragement to her in the immediate aftermath of Killian’s hasty exit. She had been certain he would quickly return looking for the trinket. Her plan had not been to hold the ring ransom of course, but to hand it over gladly once he explained to her what had gone wrong, why he’d left her with such speed, and she hoped to ascertain the truth in his eyes or his voice to understand if it had all been in her head, or if what she had felt between them was still there.

However, days, and then weeks, then nearly a month, had passed with no sign of Killian, no appearance made to claim what was rightfully his. Emma vacillated between wanting to box Will’s ears for picking Killian’s pockets in the first place and taking from him something that she could just feel had great sentimental value, and then wanting to squeeze him about the waist until his breath caught, thankful she had something to hold onto, to remind her that Killian and that whole night, those precious moments in his arms and together on the balcony, had not been a fictitious mirage. She would admit to no one that she slept with the ring beneath her pillow each night, her fingers tangled in the chain, but she did just that. It dangled from her grasp as she stared up at the moon and stars from her balcony, wondering where he might be under those same constellations, and she often fell asleep wondering if she would ever see the mysterious young man of her dreams again.

At first, when Killian had failed to return, Princess Emma had been stymied. She was clever and determined, and though hardly spoiled, she was beloved and honored by all of those around her; rarely did her wishes and plans fail to come to fruition. It was not until she finally broke down and spoke to her father when they were alone in his study one afternoon that a new course of action began to take shape.

After reluctantly admitting that she wanted to go searching for the young gentleman she had met at the ball (a fact her father had long since surmised but was prudent enough not to mention) and explaining how they had seemingly been interrupted by the ticking of time itself, the King suggested a plan that Emma could enthusiastically approve. It was ingenious in seeming perfectly natural for her to do anyway as she matured and her royal duties as heir to the throne increased. In fact, Emma wondered how she had not come up with it herself.

From there on out, whenever her father went to inspect a ship of their fleet, offer a sailor a promotion, or christen a new ship, she would accompany him. No one would find it at all odd for the princess to do so; in fact it might add to the occasion, and she meanwhile could look for her sailor in particular.

Unfortunately, just as Killian had no way of knowing Emma was seeking him so earnestly, she had no way of knowing that his ship was not part of their Misthavian fleet, and no matter how many she boarded she would not find him there. She had taken up her father’s idea with unfettered enthusiasm, but as several more months passed with no further luck than before she couldn’t help being disheartened. It would seem that somehow this one special person who had touched her soul had somehow sailed beyond her reach - somewhere she might never find him.

It might have carried on that way interminably if Killian’s fairy godmother had not once again used a touch of her magic to intervene. While Silver’s ship was hardly a law-abiding vessel of any kingdom, there was little chance of her charge being united with the young princess, whom she as a fairy could see was his True Love. And Nova was tired of waiting; this young man had already been twisted and pulled by the vagaries of Fate for entirely too long. The fact that he had been so surprised by her initial appearance proved that. She was called upon to be his benefactress, and now that she had begun the job, Nova was not ready to give up.

It was simple enough for a clever and determined being with magic to effect a small but troubling leak in the hull of the pirate ship - one that necessitated their entering the nearest port - conveniently, as Nova had intended, Misthaven’s - and docking for repairs. Easier still to make certain that the shipwright Silver sent his first mate to see had difficulty locating the needed materials, ensuring the ship and its crew would remain long enough for her youthful sailor to be reunited with his match.

Once the fairy had accomplished her part, she did not even have to provide a nudge on the other side as she had anticipated. It would seem that True Love carried within itself a powerful type of kismet. Barely had Captain Silver and most of his crew disembarked and dispersed throughout the village - to taverns, market stalls, and beyond - than a commotion alerted those few left aboard to an entourage of some sort approaching along the docks.

Killian was below deck when the heavily arrayed and armored phalanx neared his ship’s berth and paused to look up. He had scrubbing in the galley to do and a mess of potatoes to peel and slice for dinner besides. So it was only an older sailor and Liam, left aboard as lookouts, who actually saw the visitors were King David, the Princess, and a number of castle guards, now formally requesting permission to come aboard. Neither sailor was prepared to deny the monarch, regardless of the fact that they were hardly a ship of his loyal fleet, nor strictly under his domain.

Once the King planted his feet solidly on the bare planks of the ship, he faced the two men with one hand resting confidently on the pommel of his sword and his discerning eyes seeming to drill through Liam uncomfortably. “Are you all who are left on the vessel? And what is your purpose within our port? You are not from here, that much is obvious.”

Before either Liam or his befuddled compatriot could decide how best to answer that second query, the princess stepped to King David’s side with quiet dignity, laying a soft hand upon her father’s forearm as though giving a calming reminder. She did not speak aloud, but the look shared between father and daughter spoke volumes, and coupled with a slight shake of her head, the King seemed to pause and mentally draw back, ceding center stage to his daughter.

“Greetings,” the Princess began, her voice calm and measured, but carrying a low, husky warmth that Liam could immediately admit was intriguing. “Thank you for your hospitality. We realize, of course, that this is an open port as long as no malfeasance is occurring or harm is coming to any of our subjects via a visitor’s presence; therefore, you have extended us a courtesy in allowing us to board.”

Liam’s eyes shot back to the king and his gathered attachment, as the monarch flinched slightly but held himself in check, and many of those armed and at the ready to defend him seemed to fidget restlessly. It had to be clear that they were neither a naval nor a merchant vessel, and none on the deck seemed at ease with the other contingent’s presence except for the Princess standing in the middle of them all.

Her eyes were knowing, and her mouth bore an almost bemused upward quirk at the corner of her full, pink lips. He could swear she was practically winking at him, as if to convey that she knew who they were, but was not about to let it concern or thwart her mission. “Let us simply agree that lectures on moral sea trading practice and fealty to kingdom and crown are not the purpose for our visit,” she assured, her voice steady and strong, but also nonthreatening; a true feat since her words confirmed that she understood what they were normally about on the Merry Rogue.

She stepped nearer still to Liam, every movement poised and graceful as the Queen she would one day become, and peered up into his face, searching his eyes as if she saw something within their depths that she recognized. 

Nonplussed by both her words and bearing, as well as her mere presence altogether, Liam simply dipped his chin in an obliging nod to acknowledge her words. “Understood,” he agreed simply. “And if that be the case, then what do you ask of us, your Highness?”

Beneath her placid surface, the Princess’ eyes flickered with a pained emotion as she drew in a deep breath, then leaned closer to confide quietly. “I am hoping to find someone who means a great deal to me,” she admitted at a volume that quite possibly only he could hear. “I’ve been seeking him for months now, on each new ship christened, at every ball since, whenever we offer promotions or awards to our sailors…” She trailed off and swallowed hard before continuing once more. “I have used any capacity available to me as princess to search, but in truth, I did not step aboard this ship today as a royal, but merely as a person trying to follow her heart. When we neared your ship’s berth, I had a feeling, a pull in my gut which I couldn’t ignore. And so,” here she pulled herself to her full height again, straightening and squaring her shoulders as if to ready herself for any response, then repeated the question her father had asked, but in a tone of desperate hope. “Are there any others on board this ship at present?”

Liam’s heart had begun to race as she spoke, realizing more with each moment that passed that the beauty standing before him was as taken with his younger brother as Killian had been with her. He had known the princess on sight, but had been wary, uncertain of the royals’ purpose at first and intent on keeping Killian from further pain or risk if he could. Seeing now that his brother’s silent yearning - obvious despite Killian’s dogged efforts to carry on with life - had not been in vain, nor was it one-sided, Liam could not keep a wide grin from stretching across his face ridiculously, nearly bowled over by the miraculous turn of events.

“Just one other, Princess,” he replied. “My brother is below in the galley. Allow me to fetch him for you.” Liam knew that his voice had trembled audibly with emotion, nerves and excitement, but was powerless to stop it. Moving to the open hatch, he called down the stairs. “Killian! You’re needed topside, Little Brother!”

They could all hear the rattle and clang of dishes banging below and then a playfully exasperated call in answer, “That’s younger brother!” in a tone that clearly said it had been repeated often before it was followed by the added, “I’ll be there in a moment! Hold on!”

They waited wordlessly, but it was hard to decide who was more anxious for him to appear - Liam or the Princess. Both gave each other nervous smiles, fidgeting and shuffling their feet, and neither was willing to look away from the open hatch and the steps leading below deck.

When a dark, ruffled head of hair appeared in the opening, followed by the familiar blue-eyed face and crooked smile, then shoulders and torso as Killian climbed the ladder fully, Princess Emma drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening and going teary-bright as she saw him before her at last. After all her searching and beginning to wonder if he could be found, there he stood - not a figment of her imagination at all, thankfully. Emma glanced quickly over her shoulder at her Papa, as though confirming that he saw Killian too.

King David merely nodded, a gentle look on his regal face now, pleased for her and seeming to urge her forward, to do whatever she had come to do.

That seemed to steady Misthaven’s hair to the throne once more. Emma wet her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue, her eyes roving over his features avidly, even as her fingers twisted together where she clasped her hands before her. No shrinking violet, even in this clearly pivotal moment, however, she drew a step nearer still and finally addressed him directly. “Killian, you’re really here. I began to fear you’d vanished off the face of the Earth.”

She gave him a playful grin along with those shaky words, but Killian’s heart stuttered at the sincerity he heard beneath her attempt at brave jest. She had questions, rightfully so, and unbelievable as it seemed, self doubts as well unless his senses misjudged things. In truth, he was still trying to recover from the surprise at seeing her there on a ship fit for rogues and scoundrels, not royalty, and his heart tried to beat from his chest at the very idea that she would have sought him out after his flight from the ball. He was hardly worthy of her undivided attention then, much less her extended effort after the fact. Huskily, Killian managed to at least say something, knowing he needed to speak and not just stare at her mutely in an attempt to drink in her image. “Aye, it’s me, Princess. Killian Jones at your service.” He sketched a quick bow with those words, then winced at the awkwardness of the hasty gesture.

The princess gave a huff of humor and wry self-deprecation at his response. “It would have been helpful to have that last name before now,” she sighed, shaking her head.

Killian didn’t know how to answer that, still baffled to find her standing before him in all her glowing, golden beauty, much less that she would have remembered even the first name he had carefully given her or try to seek him out with it.

Princess Emma seemed to shake herself from that frustration quickly, waving her hand as if to bat away her own words. “Nevermind,” she pressed on, meeting his gaze earnestly, “in any case, I have something I need to give you.”

Reaching into the small pouch that rested at her hip, Emma drew out a blessedly recognizable circle of metal on a heavy chain - the missing ring that Killian had believed he’d lost. Almost breathlessly, Killian reached out to take the treasured piece of jewelry from her, opening his hand and clasping his fingers closed around it as the chain slid from her grip and the comforting weight landed on his palm. “Thank you,” he stammered, dazed with the turn of events yet again. “I cannot tell you how much it means to have this back… It- it belonged to my mother.”

Emma’s eyes went soft and misty, as if she could somehow discern the loss behind that statement. The small grin she was giving him wobbled a bit, but she nodded before adding, “Well, it was the least I could do after my ne’er-do-well friend picked it from your pocket. Before you shower me with too much gratitude, I believe I owe you an apology.”

Here, she bowed her head, suddenly appearing as bashful as he had felt from the start. Unable to stop himself, or consider the impropriety of his actions, Killian leaned forward, tipping her chin up with gentle fingers so he could meet her glistening jade eyes once more. “No please, don’t worry about that, your Highness. Truly, I am in your debt.”

At his words, her smile grew, blooming across her face like sunshine after rain. Neither of them spoke for some time as they gazed at each other breathlessly. None of those scattered around them moved or spoke either, as if unwilling to shatter a moment in which the very air seemed to waver with a charge of energy or magic, some force that could not be denied.

When Princess Emma spoke again, she seemed to be gathering her courage once more before nervously chewing her lower lip and reaching out to clasp his hand in both of her smaller ones. “I have one more confession to make,” she admitted in barely more than a whisper.

Killian didn’t know where the cheekiness that somehow overtook him just then came from, but he tilted his head, arching one brow curiously as he did, before rasping, “You mean beyond theft, Milady? Why what else could it be?” He wanted to bite off his own tongue as soon as the flippant retort was uttered, but then quickly changed his mind upon seeing the flush that rose up the princess’ cheeks and the intrigued spark that flickered across her expression. He nearly laughed aloud before her next words utterly floored him and stunned him to silence.

“Yes, something else,” she recovered, seeming determined to say whatever else she had in mind. Gathering a breath that visibly filled her lungs and then letting it out in a whoosh of air, she pressed their joined hands tightly and plunged ahead. “Right now, I stand before you, not as a princess and future ruler, but as a woman - young though I might be - who has been unable to forget you since the night we met. I might have held your family heirloom unintentionally, but it would seem you have held onto my heart.” She paused just briefly there, pinning him with the hope in her eyes as his mouth fell open, all words completely gone, just as she asked for a response. “Killian Jones, will you stay in Misthaven and allow us to discover what might be here between us? Is it possible you might feel the same?”

Killian’s mouth opened and closed fruitlessly without any sound coming out. Panicked, he began to hope she could somehow see the pounding of his heart beneath his shirt where it seemed to be attempting to beat right out of his chest. Of course, he felt the same!  But in that moment he couldn’t summon the words to tell her so…

His worries that she might see his floundering and change her mind, and the racing whirl of his scattered thoughts, was interrupted by a strong nudge in his back from Liam, nearly causing him to fall forward at Emma’s feet. “Well, answer her, Brother!” Liam urged jovially, his voice brimming with happiness and humor. “Heaven knows you’ve been miserable missing her, don’t leave the lady in suspense now that she’s here before you again!”

Flicking a quick, embarrassed look over his shoulder, Killian noticed the genuine pride in him and excited joy for his good fortune shining from his elder brother’s face, just as it had that night they had presented him with clothing and a way to the ball. Turning back to face Emma once more, he noted her spotless white gown and the ermine stole about her shoulders, the shining curls of her hair and her perfect face. He didn’t want to think about the stains that were undoubtedly scattered over his patched and threadbare clothes, nor the smudges and cuts that must be visible on his face and hands from hard work and long days in the wind and sun. He wanted to tell her how much he had thought of her as well, but he simply wasn’t sure he had the right…

Just as she had before, Emma tilted her head, studying his face, still hopeful, though anxious as well, and then her eyes softened. It was as if once more she had read his thoughts and knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling, and she understood him in a way he had never experienced before. Stepping so close that their noses nearly brushed and she could speak for his ears alone, she prodded tenderly. “It’s alright, Killian. Just tell me the truth.”

Meeting her gaze fully, Killian could only be honest, deserving of the gift she was offering or not. Reaching out tenderly, he brushed a curl back over her shoulder, trembling at the nerve it took him to do so. “Aye, Princess, I feel the same. I would love nothing more than to remain by your side. I am the furthest thing from a prince or nobleman, but if you truly want to continue our acquaintance, I am happy to do as you wish.”

Her beaming face seemed like a vision from a dream, almost blinding him. They stood grinning at each other for several long seconds before the Princess reached out, caught the edges of his collar and pulled him the last few inches to her so their lips could meet. The moment they did, shocks ran through Killian, colors bursting behind his eyes. Everyone on the deck of the Rogue felt the wave of power that radiated out from the two young people caught up in their first kiss. Killian and Emma jolted back a step, and all who were present seemed to reel and barely stay on their feet.

Killian struggled to grasp what had happened as he heard the King let out a whoop of recognition from behind them. Just before he surged forward to gather both his daughter and her chosen consort up in an exuberant embrace, Princess Emma’s eyes widened in shock as she stared at him. Looking down, Killian found that his appearance had been transformed. Gone were the work clothes of a servant, and in their place was the finery he had worn the night of the ball, as if returned by magic. From head to toe, he looked as though he had been put right back in that very moment. 

Caught up in the King’s strong arms and pressed warmly to his Princess’ side, Killian was stunned once again when he heard the man huskily whisper to his daughter. “True Love’s Kiss, Pumpkin. You’ve found your own.”

It was almost more than Killian could fathom, but as his mind steadied, he knew. He could feel in it his bones, and in his own heart. His eyes returned to Emma and neither of them could bring themselves to look away. The pleasant warmth and sense of rightness, of home at last, that enveloped him then was only strengthened by a moment’s echo of what sounded like tinkling fairy laughter in his ear.

~~~~*~~~~

Six months later, when Killian Jones and Princess Emma of Misthaven stood on the balcony of the palace to announce their engagement to the people, no one gathered there could remember a more joyous or perfect occasion. Killian was announced as a lieutenant of the Queen’s Royal Navy, to which he and Liam had both been enlisted almost as soon as he and Emma were reunited, free at last from the service of Captain Silver in which they had been trapped since their youth. Laughter rang out as the King’s footman, standing next to Lieutenant Jones’ side pretended to take the engagement ring for the Princess from the sailor’s own pocket and presented it to him with a winking bow so Killian could place it on her finger. None of the assembled crowd below could know the secret significance of the gesture or the role Will Scarlet had inadvertently played in their finding one another again. Nor would they realize that the ring was Killian and Liam’s mother’s, the same one Emma had returned to him that day - now a symbol not just of his past and the family he had lost, but of their future and the family they would create together. Her parents and his brother stood with them proudly, her mother beaming even as she dashed away happy tears, and both King David and Liam chests puffed with pride at how far the two young people they loved most had come. 

It was the beginning of something special, another True Love Story for the ages. A happily ever after if ever there was one. And all of those gathered to witness the kiss they shared after Killian placed the ring on the Princess’ finger agreed that no two people could cherish it more. 

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