#I mean I need to write and send this paper over before the month ends so

[raksh-writes]

Oh my god, I just got hit with Such a hardcore urge to do a fresh reinstall of Skyrim and rebuild my mod list from the ground up that it's making it Impossible to focus on anything else and I was supposed to be writing a paper for one of my uni classes today, like why, brain??? Why NOW??? 😭😭

Feels like Im not gonna be able to get my hands on anything else until I do it and it might as well take the whole day ahhhhowpghhiulaergnilaengnalg the fuck is this, help 😭😭

[dsudis]

late night calls, sandman: "I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice.” ?

I almost never manage to write to prompts but hey, it's the summer of 2024! Sometimes crazy shit happens! I wrote this! Don't ask me how long ago I got this ask!

Dreamling, feat. retired Dream & comics spoilers for how he got that way.

The Sound of Your Voice

Hob scrolled back through his texts, reading the slightly disjointed conversation with Dream that had just trailed off into nothing, and then the previous day's exchanges. There were no selfies, but Dream sent pictures of the things he saw on his travels and found interesting--sometimes the sort of holiday snaps anyone might send, but often things that brought it firmly to mind that Hob was exchanging texts with the newly-human former Lord of the Dreaming, who was wandering the world in search of Normal Life Experiences.  

He meant to scroll past, but he found himself studying the photos all over again: the instruction card from an airline seat; a scrap of spiderweb lingering in an unidentifiable corner of two beige walls; a spoon wrapped in a paper napkin; a puddle on a cracked pavement. 

Hob zoomed in on that last, trying to discern a reflection in the puddle, trying to guess what Dream was doing with his hair these days by the shape of the shadow.  

It had been a month now that Dream had been off on his travels. He texted fairly often, and always responded when Hob texted him; they had even spoken twice. The first time had been four days after Dream set out, when Hob hadn't heard anything, and gave up on being cool and called.  

Dream had sounded mildly puzzled, but had been content to chat for twenty minutes. He had actually, haltingly, answered questions about what he was up to, what he'd seen, whether he was enjoying his adventure.  

Hob had managed to compress four days of quietly losing his mind worrying about him into saying toward the end, "Don't be a stranger, right? I mean--you're not my--not a stranger anymore, so--we can keep in touch."  

He'd nearly hung up then just to shut himself up, but Dream had said, "Yes, I see. I will."  

He seemed to have understood, even, because since then he hadn't gone more than twenty-four hours without texting Hob some random observation or sending a photo or just Good morning, Hob, usually at a time that was nowhere near morning where Hob was. 

Dream had even called, a week or so ago. It had taken Hob solidly ten minutes, in which Dream had scarcely paused for breath, to realize that despite speaking perfectly clearly, Dream was so utterly legless that he needed more absurd words for it. He was trolleyed. Gazeboed. Positively coat-hangered.  

"Your turn," Dream had said abruptly, still not slurring a bit but audibly loosened, so that Hob was suddenly sure that Dream was lying down, sprawled somewhere, collar undone, shirt perhaps riding up.  

Hob had been so entranced by that image--did Dream have a bit of an alcohol flush on, lighting up his pale cheeks?--that Dream had had to prompt him again to take his turn speaking. He had managed it just fine once he got going, happy as ever to have Dream listening to him.  

Dream had made a few encouraging noises, then gone quiet, until finally Hob heard a tiny, unmistakable snore. 

"OI!" Hob had shouted into the phone, and been rewarded with something that was almost certainly a snort and the clatter of a dropped phone.  

"Hob?" Dream had said, returning. 

"Drink some water, and lie down on your side to sleep," Hob had said firmly. "Your sister might not take you if you choke, but you don't want her to turn up and laugh at you, either."  

Dream had actually said, "Ugh, she would," before he hung up, and Hob had spent the rest of the day laughing to himself as those words echoed in his ears. 

He couldn't hear them now.  

It was something that had happened time and again. Each time he met with Dream, hanging on every one of the sparse words that dropped from his lips, he felt that he would have that voice etched on his memory, ringing in his ears, forever. For days after, he could hear Dream's words again, playing them over in his memory.  

But every time, before too long, he couldn't remember quite what those words sounded like. He might remember what the words were, but he couldn't hear them anymore. A few months on, he would forget the little quirks of Dream's expression. 

At some point, every time, he forgot Dream's face. 

He could remember what Dream looked like, generally: pale and black-haired, slim and tallish, dressed in black, obviously rich. But he couldn't bring Dream's actual face to mind, had to just wait out the century to see him again, to know him again. There you are. 

He'd already started forgetting after their belated meeting, when Dream turned up again, though Hob still hadn't known his name at that point. There had been a dream, first, and then his old stranger had just--turned up in a pub when Hob was out drinking, having his own miserable evening. He'd pulled out of it enough to realize that Dream was even worse off than he was, that Dream was on the precipice of something unimaginable, but nothing he said had changed any of that. 

And then he'd found himself attending Dream's bloody wake, which was how he'd learned who his oldest friend even was.  

He'd had about a week to try to resign himself to never having another reunion, never refreshing those fading memories ever again, no longer having even one person he could look forward to meeting again on the long road of his eternal life.  

And then Dream had turned up on his bloody doorstep: freshly human and tentatively immortal, as this new incarnation was technically his afterlife. 

Dream had been nearly as bewildered by it as Hob was, and had stayed with Hob for a fortnight. Learning to function in a human body had been undignified and frustrating, but Hob had done his best to smooth the way. He had accompanied Dream through his first experiences of human-sized emotions, which seemed to be something he had no idea how to handle, where had possessed at least a general theoretical understanding of the physically messy bits.  

After two weeks, though, he had seemed to be settling in, and Hob had let himself begin to think of what life might look like with his friend in it--and then Dream had announced that he needed more Life Experience and he was going off to find it. 

Hob knew he'd said it like that, the capital letters audible even though his new voice had lost some slight uncanny edge he'd always had before. He just couldn't hear it anymore, and he couldn't hear Dream's drunken rambling either. He scrolled down through the texts again, trying to hear how Dream would say the words, but he only caught an echo, the velvety depth of Dream's voice.  

It was late; he ought to stop fretting about this and sleep. There would be more texts from Dream tomorrow; sooner or later there would be another call, or Dream would turn up again. Everything was all right now; Dream was safe, and probably reasonably happy, out on his self-appointed quest to get the hang of being human. 

Hob just wanted to hear that from him. He just wanted to hear _anything_, so long as it was Dream. He hesitated another moment, but he had never been good at resisting temptation. He just had time to try to guess where Dream was--and therefore what time it was--before he hit the call button. 

It rang only twice before Dream picked up, sounding not just puzzled but properly disorientated, fuzzy with sleep. "'Lo? Hob? What's..." 

All the circling misery of the last few minutes lifted instantly. _There you are. That's you._ "Hi, love," Hob returned, falling back into his own bed. "I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice." 

There was a silence, but before Hob could take it back, or say something to give himself away even more, Dream said, "You could... do you think you'd like to--" 

"Yes," Hob said, sitting up again, feeling abruptly wide awake, ready for anything.  

"--Hear it more?" Dream finished.  

"Yes," Hob repeated, standing. "Yes, I--where--" 

"About five minutes," Dream said, which didn't make sense until he added, "it's a good thing you called, I didn't mean to doze off in the taxi." 

"Jet lag," Hob said, mouth running on autopilot as he looked frantically around his bedroom. It was in a bit of a state; he hadn't gotten properly settled into his own newest incarnation before Dream turned up, and in the last few days he'd been... more down than he'd realized until right now, when he wasn't anymore, at half two in the morning. "I keep telling you, you have to respect the circadian rhythm now you have one." 

"I have great respect for it," Dream said, sounding a little amused now. "Unfortunately--" he yawned, "international flight schedules do not, despite being entirely staffed by people who also need to sleep." 

"One of those mysteries we may never solve," Hob agreed. "Uh, your room's a bit--" 

"I will happily sleep on your kitchen floor at this point," Dream said, yawning again before he quite got all the words out. "Perhaps the stairs." 

"Well, we can do better than that, at least," Hob said, pulling on a pair of joggers and giving the covers a few quick tugs so the bed looked plausibly disheveled rather than like a place of insomniac torment. He dashed down the stairs to the front door, and threw back the locks, listening to Dream's quiet on the other side of the line. "Dream?" 

"Still here," Dream assured him, sounding a bit more alert now. "Just a few more blocks, I think." 

Hob leaned out the door, peering down his street, listening as if he would somehow know which car on another street was the one with Dream inside. "Are you..." Hob didn't even know how to finish the question, other than _here yet?_ which was a stupid one.  

"Yes," Dream said anyway, just as a car turned down Hob's street--a proper cab, not an Uber. Dream could be choosy about things like that. "I see you. I--I am very glad to see you." 

Hob raised and arm and waved, to be sure the cabbie would see him too, and cleared his throat before he could say, "Same to you, my friend." 

"Yes," Dream said dryly, even as the cab was pulling up, putting the rear door exactly level with the stairs to Hob's door. "I can see that." 

Hob glanced down at himself and realized that he was both shirtless and barefoot, and showing a wide strip of his pants on one side where he hadn't managed to pull the joggers all the way up. Hob sputtered, already starting to laugh at himself and unable to find a riposte; he looked up again and his breath stopped.  

Time stopped. 

Dream was on the pavement below him, straightening up out of the cab. He was looking straight at Hob, with just as much bright gladness in his face as the first time they'd seen each other again after their longest parting. 

Hob dropped his phone and darted down the stairs, colliding with Dream halfway and flinging his arms around him. He clung tight long after they were both steadied from the impact, pressing his face into Dream's messy hair. "Say something," Hob murmured, breathing in the not-too-recently-washed smell of him, soaking in the solidity of the angular body pressed up against his. 

"Your front door's closed behind you," Dream murmured. "And I think you've cracked the screen on your phone." 

"Bugger," Hob muttered, squeezing tighter; Dream's grip tightened in answer until Hob could feel his ribs creaking, and still neither of them showed any sign of letting go. "The door, I mean, that's a bother. The phone screen's been cracked for weeks." 

Dream gave a little _tsk_, pressed a kiss to the spot just before Hob's ear, and then let go all at once, sliding past him to retrieve his phone. Hob pressed his fingers to the spot where Dream's lips had pressed, and didn't manage to speak, or even think anything coherent, before Dream was straightening up again, phone in hand.  

"They can be replaced," Dream pointed out. "And you gave me a key before I left, so even the door is not such a great bother as that." 

"Yeah, I wasn't that worried," Hob said, fingers still pressed to the spot in front of his ear, staring at Dream, who was going just a bit pink. "Dream, you--" 

"You gave me a key," Dream repeated, making no move to get it out and unlock the door, still holding Hob's battered phone. "Before I left, you said. I could always. Come home." 

"Yeah," Hob said, and finally managed to drop his hand from his own face, reaching out with the same fingers to touch the brightening pink of Dream's cheek. "You always can, love. I always want to hear you, and I always want to see you." 

"I thought I--I thought perhaps--it might have been only..." Dream shook his head, giving up on putting it into words, but Hob didn't need him to spell it out; he'd worried himself that perhaps it was a problem that Dream only had him, only knew him. He'd known it was a good idea for Dream to go out into the world, even while he'd hated it. "But there is no one like you." 

"And no place like home?" Hob added lightly, because he couldn't not, even when he could see Dream's perfectly earnest expression, the steady dark intensity of his gaze.  

Dream snorted softly and put his hand over Hob's, pressing it to his cheek while he leaned in, closing the distance between them again.  

Hob started to tilt his head, ready to guide Dream into possibly his first kiss in a world where noses would not politely reshape themselves to stay out of the way, but Dream first pressed his forehead to Hob's, breathing deeply and saying nothing. Hob settled his other hand on Dream's cheek as well, keeping him close, breathing in for himself the reality of Dream here with him again, safe and sound and wanting to be here, of all the places in the world he might be exploring.  

"We should go inside," Dream murmured, and Hob just shivered at the secret sound of his voice before he made sense of the words.  

He tipped his head back to meet Dream's eyes, and found Dream smiling wryly. "I fear we may be carried away here on your front steps, otherwise." 

Hob dropped his hands to Dream's shoulders, where it was safe to grip as hard as he needed to while he let those words sink in, his whole body flashing hot at the possibilities. "Yeah. That's. Probably wise, yeah." 

Dream nodded, still smiling, and held up a familiar key. "Shall we?" 

Hob forced himself to drop his hands and turn to go back up the stairs. Dream followed him, close enough that Hob could almost feel him; when Hob turned the knob and realized that the door had in fact locked behind him, he had no time at all to be frustrated by it before Dream pressed up against his back, bringing his hands--and, crucially, his key--to join Hob's.  

"You gave me a key," Dream said, so close to Hob's ear that his lips brushed it, so deep and warm that Hob could drown in it. "You knew I would want to come home to you. And now here I am--" the key slid home, and Hob bit his lip to hold back a noise at that altogether unsubtle promise of things to come. "Coming home. To you. With you." 

Hob pushed the door open, but before stepping inside he asked, knowing it was ridiculous to hesitate, with Dream plastered up against him and hesitating anyway, "Will you tell me again tomorrow?" 

"I will tell you again every day," Dream said without hesitation. "Every time I come home to you, wherever that may be, it will always be you." 

"Right then," Hob said, and whirled in Dream's arms to kiss him as he stumbled back inside. Dream followed him, and didn't stop kissing him except to laugh when they staggered into a heap at the top of the inside stair. Hob tugged him back down into another kiss, and let Dream's voice echo in his ears a while longer.  

[reidsaurora]

hil! so im a little nervous to send this in and confused how exactly to request but im gonna try anyway

the summer celebration and the banner is so cute! could i please request for you to write a "Malibu Dream House - domestic!au" with Reid and fem!reader? Spencer and reader are expecting (unless you're uncomfy with pregnancy, then they can just be a couple that's moving) and relocating, buying a home together. and the team comes over for a house warming party during well obviously the summer! just like cute fluffy dynamics between everyone. Rossi is protecting the bbq like it’s his baby and ofc Ms. Penelope Garcia is excited at the possibilities of the couple’s future

i hope this isn’t too boring a request, and of course no pressure to write this, i just hope you’re having a good day and hope summer treats you well 🩵

hi, lovey! sorry this took so long! as usual, i don't have an excuse alshalsjsksh 💀 hope u enjoy though!

"With A Little Help From Our Friends" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Reader is feeling apprehensive about the end of her pregnancy, Spencer reminds her that really all you need is a little help from your friends.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1,846

Content Warning: pregnancy stuff, a little sexual humor at the end, food talk, small mention of a gun (this is CM after all), lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: it definitely didn't take me three different attempts to write something without scrapping it...

Originally Written: 07/23/2024 through 07/27/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (love u my editor 4 life)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration can be found here!

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Crashing Waves - angst requests -> Sun Kissed - fluff requests

To say the last couple months had been busy would've been an understatement.

Sure, when you and Spencer first saw that little blue plus sign, you went into full-blown parent mode. It started with some baby clothes, then some bottles, then the crib… But, entering the last trimester of your pregnancy, that's when things started to get real.

In the process of getting ready, you'd acquired enough things for a potential army of babies, making Spencer's apartment—originally intended for one resident—feel even tinier than the baby you were soon to birth. So what was Spencer's genius solution? Move into a new house, because he simply couldn't get rid of his baby's things before she'd even arrived.

And that was how you found yourselves heavily pregnant and moving into your new three-bedroom Cape Cod in the quiet town of Cabin John, Maryland. Perhaps you should've found somewhere that wouldn't require waiting until your eighth month of pregnancy to move in, but with its charming blue-and-white exterior and flower boxes on nearly every window, it was hard to say no to the place.

The last week had been spent moving everything in, not much thanks to you but thanks to your friends/colleagues of the BAU. Pretty much everyone had been in and out of your home over the week, but Spencer still insisted that the two of you should throw a housewarming party, and who were you to say no to that cute smile and big brown eyes? You only hoped your daughter wouldn't inherit them, or else you might just take that two letter word out of your vocabulary altogether.

Now you were here, in the kitchen supply aisle of the grocery store, contemplating what paper plates to use for the party.

“I really don't think anyone's going to care about the design, love,” Spencer attempted to reassure you. “Just so long as they aren't flimsy.”

Your pregnancy brain was basically ignoring him at this point though. “What if I buy the wrong ones and they think they're ugly?”

Spencer pouted, though he placed a supportive hand on your back. “How long have you known my colleagues? And how many times has someone said something mean about something so miniscule?”

“There was that one time Rossi said he didn't like that flower arrangement I put on the coffee table.”

“In his defense, he said they were the same colors that his second wife had at their wedding,” he explained, then chuckled. “He was probably just having some PTSD.”

Eventually, after a few more minutes of contemplation, you decided on the basic white ones, Spencer reassuring you all the while that they were perfect. Then, it was onto cutlery, which was just another thing for your brain to pick apart. You knew it was silly, truly, but you just couldn't get yourself out of your own head about even the most miniscule things.

On top of that, it seemed as though your husband hadn't missed your shift in behavior. Sometimes it sucked that he read people for a living.

“Honey,” he started, his tone sounding oddly like the word he'd just said, “are you sure this is about paper plates and plastic forks?”

Normally, you'd be able to put up a fight with your brain, push down the thoughts and explain later in the comfort of your home. But pregnant you was much different than regular you, and it only took that one question to have you tearing up.

You leaned into his shoulder, hoping to suppress the sounds of your cries. “What if I make all the wrong choices and the baby hates me?”

His lips met the crown of your head for a gentle kiss, followed by a soft sigh. “I promise she'll love you. You're going to be the most wonderful mother any little girl could ask for.”

“But what if I buy her the wrong diapers and she yells at me?”

Spencer gave you that signature pout, and a small swarm of butterflies set off in your belly. “I doubt she'll be that picky over them, but if she is, we just buy her new ones and make it better.”

You couldn't help but snicker through your tears. “I feel like that's awful advice, but I think I get what you mean.”

“C'mere,” he mumbled, pulling you in as closely as possible. Your bump had made it hard for hugs to happen, but that definitely didn't stop your husband from trying. “You're going to make a mistake or two. It's in our nature. I will most likely make a lot more than one or two mistakes-”

“Not true. You're gonna be the best dad in history.”

“And you will be the best mom in history. It's going to be a learning curve for all three of us. But, when they say ‘it takes a village,’ at least we know we have our village. JJ will be there to help with all your new mom questions and Hotch will be there to help me build her first treehouse. Kate will be there when she starts playing with makeup and we start to feel old.”

You giggled into his shoulder, earning you a small smile. “Penny will be there just to spoil her.”

“Emily will be there just to teach her how to flip someone off,” he snickered, the sound vibrating against your skin. Then, he was pulling you up for a long but sweet kiss, the taste of his morning coffee taking over your senses. “We've got this. You've got this.”

And instantly, you were feeling better. You knew Spencer knew magic, but sometimes you swore he was a wizard with the way he could change things just by saying one thing.

—

The second you pulled into the driveway, your heart sank to your stomach.

“Spence, why is the gate open?” You only hoped he had a reasonable explanation.

Unfortunately, his answer was not at all what you were hoping to hear. “I'm not sure. I don't think I left it open.”

Abandoning your party supplies in the car, the two of you headed toward the gate, Spencer insisting you and the baby stay behind him. As an FBI agent, he knew never to go anywhere without a gun, so luckily he at least had some way to protect you and himself if it came to that.

With one hand, he pushed open the cracked gate, the other lingering near his firearm just in case. The two of you quietly and slowly made your way into the backyard. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest, it felt like it would jump right out of your ribcage. Spencer managed to remain his normal, calm self, but you couldn't say the same.

And then, just as you rounded the corner: “SURPRISE!”

Both you and Spencer nearly jumped out of your skin at the screams, though you both quickly realized what was going on.

Pink and white balloon arrangements, one table filled to the brim with gifts and another covered with various snack trays and drinks. If it wasn't clear this was a baby shower, the sea of people in pink outfits would've been the giveaway.

Penelope was first to greet you, her pink sundress bouncing as she practically ran to meet you. “You don't understand how hard it was to keep this from you,” she said, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

Your arms flew around her neck, and hers wrapped around what they could of your stomach. “What is all this?” Now you were on the verge of tears with her.

“Papa Rossi wanted to throw you guys a shower and of course we had to surprise you.”

You let go of Penelope and turned to Rossi, wearing his normal attire, except for his normal white button-down had been replaced with a pink one. “Dave, you old softie!”

His arms wrapped around your neck for a small hug, and he left a peck to each of your cheeks. “I love you, kid, but don't call me old.”

You laughed as he let go, and immediately he walked over to the grill, like that was where he belonged. Then, you and Spencer were off to make the rounds.

Spencer wore the biggest smile you'd ever seen, aside from the one he had when you'd first shown him the pregnancy test. Even though you'd been with Spencer for nearly a decade, you still felt butterflies and goosebumps when he smiled, when he laughed, when he called you ‘love’.

“He's gonna be the best,” Penelope said, her eyes following yours.

You smiled before turning back to her. “Yeah, he really will.”

Just then, Luke and Spencer headed your way, Spencer moving to stand behind you. Immediately, you leaned into him, and he took your belly in his hands, relieving some of the pressure there. “Why were you staring?” he teased in your ear.

“I just think you're pretty,” you giggled, the sound like music to your husband's ears.

Luke snickered at the interaction, though he tossed an arm around his girl, giving Penny a quick kiss on the head. “By the way, you guys should have babies more often. This woman has been cooking enough to feed an army. She left like ten casseroles in the fridge for you guys.”

“Penelope,” Spencer gave her a soft look of something close to disapproval, though you knew he didn't mean it. “You didn't have to do that.”

“You and Mama are gonna need something to eat, and I know you guys are not going to feel like cooking after being up with a newborn all night.”

And it was time for another hug, the tears from earlier actually falling this time. You weren't sure what it was about pregnancy, but you'd realized it had made you awfully touchy. But you didn't care, especially today, when you were in the arms of some of your best friends.

“Hey, Penny,” Luke said as he watched the encounter, a tone of slyness to his words. “Maybe we should hop on the train next. Then you'll have a reason to make that breakfast casserole more often.”

She pulled away from the hug before turning to her boyfriend with probably the most serious look you'd ever seen her wear. “Luke Santiago Alvez, if you bring your man-juices anywhere near me, I will rip off your thingy and then feed it to you.”

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips. Then, you turned to Spencer, who was just confused. “Did she just call it a thingy?”

“Did she just say man-juices?” His sentence elicited giggles from all four of you.

It was then that “With A Little Help From My Friends” by The Beatles started to play on the speaker, no doubt having been taken over by Hotch. But as the song played, you couldn't help but notice the sea of people all here for your baby. Sure, you were terrified. But you knew you'd get through it: with just a bit of help from your friends.

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @mmmeademaaa @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing @captainchris-pike @therealrazortai

[vikkirosko]

Hi! I'm the same anon that send the reader with traumatic mutism ask, I was wondering If you could do the exactly same but with the Hazbin Hotel Fandom?

Specifically for Angel Dust, Charlie, Alastor, Husk, Blitzo and Sir Pentious?

Anyways hope you have a well deserved good day!!! <3

Headcanons Traumatic mutism

🌈 Charlie Morningstar x Reader 🎶

When you and Charlie met, she was just about to open a hotel. When you found out about her idea, you offered her your help, although she was surprised when you handed her a piece of paper with a sincere smile on which the question was written by hand whether you could help her. She was thrilled that there was someone who was willing to help her, even though she was a little surprised that you didn't talk

Only after some time did she find out that the reason for your silence was an event that severely emotionally traumatized you and which caused your death. She treated it with understanding and didn't worry about the fact that you continued to be silent even when you started dating. She understood that what you experienced could not disappear even in a few years, so she did not rush you, surrounding you with care and love

Shortly after the opening of the hotel, you came to her room. When she saw you, she immediately smiled, but when she noticed that you were clearly worried, she became worried. You walked up to her and took her hands. Charlie was worried that something bad might have happened, but instead you spoke up. Your voice sounded hoarse because you were silent for so long, but she heard the words you said very clearly. They were words of love

She was thrilled that you spoke up. Charlie understood that so far it was only one phrase, but she believed that eventually you will be able to speak. She would like to talk to you for hours on end, listening to your voice, but so far you haven't had the courage to do it. Charlie didn't rush you, looking forward to the day when you will speak again

🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖

When you and Angel first met, he was sure that you were the most silent person he had ever met. You were silent all the time and communicated with others using a notebook and pencil. He considered it not the most convenient means of communication and his opinion did not change when he found out that you were silent not because you were shy or mute from birth. When you were alive, the last few months of your life were monstrously terrible, to the point that even after death you were emotionally traumatized by it and from your very first day in Hell you didn't utter a single word

Angel was wondering if there was anything that could push you to start talking again. Even when you started dating, you remained silent. Over time, he stopped considering it a problem. He could talk to you about everything in the world, knowing that you were a great listener. He liked spending time with you when you gently hugged him. He didn't need to hear the words, because you often showed your feelings through such gentle actions as hugs or kisses

He was spending time in your room when you started worrying about something. All day long he noticed that you were agitated, but he didn't know the reason. When he asked you if everything was okay, you nodded, trying to assure him that everything was fine and that he didn't need to worry. However, now you were more worried than before and it was starting to bother him. When you sat down next to him, he expected you to start writing something again, but instead he heard a voice. It was your voice. You spoke softly and a little hoarsely, clearly worried and as if afraid of the very fact that you spoke. But the words you said were special. These were words of love for him

Angel didn't let you out of his arms the rest of the day. He knew that your words were sincere, perhaps one of the most sincere that Angel has ever heard. He saw how worried you were and that you were afraid to speak again, but you still told him that you loved him and your words meant a lot to Angel

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

You and Alastor have known each other for a long time and during all this time he has never heard a single word from you. At first, Alastor thought that the reason for this was that he was scaring you, but over time he noticed that you were quite friendly towards him and others. You communicated using a notepad and pencil, writing down what you wanted to say to others. It wasn't until some time later that he found out about the real reason for your silence

He found out that your death, which you remembered very well, was the cause of moral trauma. You haven't spoken since your first day in Hell and still haven't said a word. Alastor didn't know the details of your death, but he understood that since you didn't talk even after so many years, something really terrible happened

When you started dating Alastor didn't expect you to start talking. He saw several people trying to get you to talk, but every time you got scared. At such moments, all Alastor had to do was approach you so that these people would leave you alone. However, when he was once again sorting out documents in the office, but you came to him. He looked at you with his usual smile. He was waiting for you to show him another note, but instead you spoke. Your voice sounded hoarse, uncertain and quiet, but he heard you say words of love to him that he did not expect to hear

His smile widened and he couldn't help but tell you that you have a very beautiful voice. He told you honestly. He knew that over time you would talk more often, since you found the courage to say something after so much time. He hoped that someday you would be able to talk freely, without fear and uncertainty

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Hask is used to being surrounded by noisy people. That's why when he met you, he felt relieved. You were always silent, without irritating him. He wasn't much bothered by the reasons that you haven't said a word since the day you met. It wasn't until some time later that he found out what was the reason for your silence. However, this did not upset him much. He was comfortable when you were around and communicated with him using notes in a notebook

Even when you started dating, he was calm about the fact that you didn't talk. He was glad that he could come to you after a hard day and just be quiet. Next to you, he was calm and you were always ready to listen to him. He calmly waited when you wrote something, when you needed to tell him something. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like if you spoke, but he rarely seriously thought about it

After another working day, he was again next to you, resting. You gently hugged him, but he felt that you were excited about something. He was in no hurry to ask you what happened, realizing that if you wanted to, you would have written to him about what happened. However, when he heard a quiet, hoarse voice telling him about love. It was you. You, who have plucked up the courage to speak for the first time in so many years. There was uncertainty in your eyes, but you told him that anyway. Husk was surprised, but he wasn't going to embarrass you unnecessarily, so he told you that he loves you too, seeing how his words put a sincere smile on your face

Husk smiled faintly, looking at your happy expression. He knew that eventually you would start talking and he wasn't going to rush you. You had all the time in Hell so you could start talking again, but even after that Husk didn't plan to leave you

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

Pentious has always taken your silence for granted. You haven't said a word since the very first day of your acquaintance and he quickly got used to it. You communicated with a notepad and pencil. You always listened carefully to what he was saying and never interrupted him. You were his ideal listener and even when he found out about the reason for your constant silence, he did not change his opinion about you

When you started dating, you continued to be silent, but knowing the reason for your silence, he did not attach much importance to it. He liked it when you wrote about your feelings for him in your notebook. It was like there was something special about it, something that gave him an even bigger vision of how much you loved him

Pentious was surprised when he saw that you were excited, so he hurried to find out from you what happened. He assumed that someone might have offended you, so he immediately tried to find out what happened. But instead he heard your voice. He had never heard it before, but there was no one else in the room except you two. You were very confused and quietly, uncertainly told him that you love him

Pentious blushed deeply and hugged you tightly, quickly and excitedly telling you that he loves you too and smiling happily. Anyone who would have entered the room would have thought that Pentious had a sudden rush of tenderness, but he did not want to share such an important and trembling moment with someone other than you. It was like a dream in which you started talking, but he hoped that over time he would hear your voice much more often

😈 Blitzø x Reader 🐴

When you first met Blitzø, he quickly realized that you were the perfect employee. You never argue with him, you never resent his plans and ideas. He rarely waited for you to finish writing what you wanted to say, but that didn't mean that he didn't take your opinion into account, just sometimes his enthusiasm got the better of him and he talked nonstop

When you started dating, he often told you a huge number of affectionate words. It was like he was trying to talk about feelings for the two of you. Every time he did that, you smiled and blushed in embarrassment, but you never wrote to him that you didn't like it. You were glad that he expressed his feelings so openly, because you really couldn't do it so openly

Blitzø asked you several times if there was any way to help you start talking again, but you shook your head negatively.However, when the two of you stayed in the office, he noticed that you were worried. He didn't know the reason for it until you spoke up. It was the first time you spoke and the words you said were words of love for him. This caused Blitzø to open his eyes wide, after which he hugged you tightly, laughing and circling you, which caused you to blush in embarrassment

Blitzø boasted that you spoke to him, but no one believed him.He understood the reason for this, but he knew the truth that warmed his heart. He was glad that he was the first to hear your voice. It was like it was your shared secret, and he was more than happy that he didn't have to put it on display

[cellythefloshie]

;; You Are In Love

Dedicated to @senditcolton for her birthday bingo!

Summary: When your best friend Luc needs a plus one for his wedding, you don't question it. Even if the key term of pretending to be his girlfriend begs to be questioned.

Nicole's Bingo Card Tropes: Friends to Lovers | Wedding Season | Only One Bed | Argument Scene | Fake Dating | “Don’t you trust me?” | Playlists as a Love Language

Kinks & TW: unprotected sex (are we surprised?), mild choking, intoxication

Word Count: 11k+

A/N:  I refused to be too late with posting this, so I stayed up late to finish writing it. Fair warning, it's not edited. So there are probably going to be some grammatical and spelling errors throughout. Now, with those cautions aside... Happy Birthday Nicole! I hope you had a wonderful day! Thank you for being such a wonderful part of the hockey rpf community! I hope you enjoy this mess of a fic that I threw together for you - and I apologize if it feels rushed. I know if I took the time this fic could have easily ended up being a whole novel.

Playlist.

Act 1. 

Moving the prongs of your fork in circles around your plate, you pushed the contents that remained along the glass. You didn’t quite have the stomach to finish it, but couldn’t bring yourself to tell Luc you weren’t going to finish your plate. If you sat there long enough, if you held the casual conversation long enough, maybe you’d be able to finish it. But not even Luc had managed to clear his plate. Which you didn’t let go unnoticed. Luc had a routine, even during his off-season, and that included eating enough to maintain his busy training schedule. 

That was your first clue that something wasn’t right. The second clue was that he hadn’t met your eyes since the two of you sat down to eat at the island in his kitchen. Instead, you found his eyes staring out the grand glass window overlooking Downtown Winnipeg. You had thought he might have been distracted by the bumper-to-bumper traffic down Portage Avenue as every nine-to-five worker headed out to their cabin for the weekend, or maybe the wail of the sirens that were so frequent you almost didn’t hear them anymore. That was until you saw his gaze flicker over your features for but a moment before falling to his plate. He too was just pushing around what remained. 

Lowering your fork to rest across your plate, you pushed up to lean across the kitchen island, a little closer to your best friend. “Something on your mind?”

Your question drew his bright gaze back up to you, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk that was framed by the mustache you had been trying to convince him to get rid of or at the very least blend into the rest of his beard. But not even his awkward mustache could distract you from his small smile as he pushed up from his seat and made the few steps that carried him to his fridge. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Luc started slowly, piquing your interest and drawing a soft oh from your lips as you pushed your plate aside so you could rest your elbows on the countertop. He stood with his back to you for a moment, and you could see the muscles of his back grow tense as he reached up to pull a single piece of paper from beneath a magnet on the fridge. He only had to turn around to be able to toss the thick white cardstock down, the very weight of the paper and the flick of his wrist giving it enough of a push to send it drifting into your reach. 

It was an invitation, the text was a beautiful gold cursive and the paper itself was embossed with a beautiful floral pattern that was synonymous with a wedding. You traced your fingers over it slowly, your eyes dragging the two names that were only familiar to you because of Luc. He had spoken of the wedding when he had first received the invitation months ago. He and his girlfriend were to take the trip to Montreal together. But Luc was single now, and the wedding date was a mere week away. 

“I want you to come with me,” his words were a statement, not a question as he leaned back against the fridge, as if the distance between you both would make it less likely for you to reject his offer. 

It was a statement that left you staring at him, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, “No, no I shouldn’t.” Your hands raised, shaking from side to side as you offered your careful rejection. Then your lips fell into a ramble of excuses, “It’s really short notice. I won’t know anyone there and I would have anything to wear to something like-” 

As you rambled you looked around his kitchen at anything but him. So you didn’t notice as Luc left where he leaned against the fridge and rounded the counter to stand at your side. There he coaxed you to silence with the softness of his name on his tongue and the careful touch of his hands on each side of your face. His warm touch spread over your cheeks and carefully guided your face to look up at his. 

“I already have the plane tickets,” his words were soft, his eyes staring right down into yours as you pouted up at him, “and I will buy you a dress for the wedding. And one for the rehearsal dinner too, even if you like.”

“Rehearsal dinner?”

“Yeah,” his smile was a little crooked now as he was about to reveal just how busy your weekend would be if you agreed to go, “I’m in the wedding party and I ah-”

“You what, Luc?” you questioned, your voice firm. What wasn’t he telling you?

“And I told them I would be bringing my girlfriend.”

“Luc!” You shouted at him, your eyes going wide. 

He didn’t need to put it into words, you knew exactly what he was suggesting without saying it. Pierre-Luc Dubois, your best friend since he arrived in Winnipeg after a literal run-in at the airport, not only wanted you to be his date to a wedding in Montreal, he wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend. Just the proposition of it all made your hands sweat. You weren’t girlfriend material. At least not NHL girlfriend material. You didn’t fit the stereotypical cookie-cutter mold that came to mind when you thought of a WAG - even if you knew those stereotypes weren’t always true. Being Luc’s friend, you had the luxury of meeting a handful of the Jet’s wives and girlfriends and they quickly challenged every belief you had about what they were supposed to be prior. Though, you would be lying if there weren’t a few that were the very embodiment of what a hockey WAG was believed to be. Which wasn’t always a bad thing. And maybe, just maybe, pretending to be one would be fun. 

“Okay,” you sighed after a moment of leaving him hanging in the silence of your contemplation, “I’ll come.”

With your words, you could practically see the tension leave his shoulder. They seemed to fall away from his neck and ears as his hands left the hot skin of your cheeks. But his touch didn’t leave you. His hand instead found your back as his arms would around you in a thankful embrace that echoed the thanks in his words as he spoke them into your hair. 

Act 2. 

Growing up in Winnipeg, you didn’t know all that much about Montreal. You knew what your school taught you; that French was their first language and there were often discussions about how they wanted to be their own country but beyond that you knew nothing about it, which terrified you as the plane made its landing in the historic city. That terror sunk further into your gut when Luc led you out into the airport where you quickly discovered your beginner-level French wouldn’t cut it. 

The rush of the French language being spoken so fluently around you left your head spinning and your stomach in knots. If you were alone, you surely would have thrown up and caught a flight back home, but Luc was your anchor. Your savior, as he reached out for your arm and kept you close as the two of you navigated through the airport and the city together. 

Luc spoke so you didn’t have to, the French leaving his lips so fluently it left you jealous. While, if you wanted to say anything there would be a long pause as you thought about what exactly you had to say. Even then, it was probably wrong, and you knew it was when Luc would give you a crooked smile and his eyes would water as he held back a chuckle that was threatening to creep up his throat. He did it in the cab, and again in the hotel lobby as you tried to keep up with the conversation at the check-in desk. But he didn’t comment on it until you were alone in the elevator, making the ascent up to your floor. 

“You know, you don’t have to force yourself to speak French, especially with me while we’re here. I have no issue with translating for you,” his words were kind, but they still tied your stomach into knots - or maybe that was just how quickly the elevator seemed to rise from the ground up. 

“It’s that bad, huh?” You tried to hide your insecurity, but your own voice betrayed you. It had broken as you spoke, and that alone only brought you more embarrassment. It left your palms sweaty and had the handle of your bag slipping from your hold. It fell to the ground in an awkward clamor, leaving you flinching and apologizing as you reached out for it, but Luc’s hands beat you there. 

He would be carrying your bags the rest of the way. 

“You’re doing your best,” Luc assured as the elevator chimed, you had reached your floor. 

He continued to speak as he led the way, “but you’re here as a favor to me. The least I can do is assure that you are enjoying yourself, and you can’t do that if you’re constantly trying to figure out what needs to be said.”

You stood behind Luc with your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes on his feet. You used them as your guide, not once looking up at him because you hated that he was right. The entire trip was going to be a struggle if you didn’t look to him for his help, but the last thing you wanted was to have to rely on a man’s help to do anything. You had gone years without a boyfriend. Years without needing a man to do anything for you, but now you needed Luc just to get through the simplest interactions. And it left you pouting. 

“I don’t want your help,” you pouted at him, following in his wake as he opened the room’s door and led the way inside. 

“Keyword, want,” Luc sighed, and you heard him place the bags down on the floor, “but you do need it,” he said your name so softly it had your gaze rising from the floor in search of his face. 

Your eyes didn’t find Luc, they had been quickly distracted by the simple elegance of the room and the one bed that had been placed at the center of a beautiful accent wall. You looked around quickly. The room was small, with a grand window just beyond the bed, and a television on the opposite wall. Then there were two doors. One that would open up to a  small closet and the other for the bathroom.

You swallowed hard, your eyes rolling back as you let out an exasperated sigh, “One bed? Really?” 

You shouldn’t have been so surprised. He hadn’t been single when he originally made the reservations, and you couldn't blame him for not requesting an updated room. You were both adults. You both knew where your boundaries had been set. And while you were playing pretend, you were friends. Luc respected you. You knew he did. If he didn’t, he would have tried to pull something stupid with you a long time ago. 

Yet, your stomach was left fluttering the nervous butterflies at the thought of having to sleep beside him. The thought of having to feel the warmth of his body so close to yours-

And you felt it then, pulling you from your thoughts before they could spiral as he came to stand behind you. Luc’s body was warm, so warm that you could feel it radiating against your own body before you could feel the touch of his hands against your arms. His touch dragged down in a reassuring caress before you could feel the strength of his chest brush against your back as you both stood together, looking over the king-sized bed. 

“Don’t you trust me?” He punctuated the question with your name, his words teasing as he reached up and took your jaw in the hold of one hand. Luc guided your gaze back to look at him, his face so close to yours you could feel his hot exhale as you muttered out a simple, “I trust you.” 

“Good,” Luc breathed out, then guided your head to the side just enough to place a sweet kiss on your cheek before every part of you was void of his touch and his heat as he returned to the bags, “because I was not going to offer to sleep on the floor.”

“Wow,” you gasped to mock him, “such a gentleman.” 

“I’m going to be on my best behavior for you this weekend,” he promised with a grin that left you wondering how close to lying he may be. Luc always did like to cause a little trouble, “but only if you start getting ready, we have to be at the rehearsal in just over an hour.��

Raising a brow at him, you looked at an invisible watch on your wrist, “I don’t know, Luc. I can’t get ready for such an important function in less than an hour.”

“You just have to change into your dress-”

“And do my makeup, and fix my hair, and-”

Luc stood up, taking a single stride to bring him to stand toe to toe with you. His bright eyes narrowed, his stare dragging over your face as he tried to compose himself, but you could see the smile that tried to creep up at the corner of his lips as he spoke, “Just get changed before I have to drag you down to a Taxi. Besides, you look great.”

And he wasn’t wrong. You did look great. You had gone to the salon the day before to get your hair and nails done just for the occasion. The stylist had given you a tight curl, something that when you slept on it the curls would still be there but softened. You wouldn’t have to do much more than smooth out a flyaway. And you’d keep your makeup simple. Mascara, eye shadow, lipstick, and brows were all soft and natural. It would only take you a few minutes, but you still took the opportunity to tease him and be a little dramatic for the fun of it. You expected him to threaten to rush you out like he had, but what you hadn’t expected was the compliment. And it left you biting down on your tongue, unsure of how to accept it from him. 

“That’s what the beauty sleep on the plane gifted me,” you joked after a minute of contemplation as you slipped into the bathroom, out of sight. 

Luc mocked you with exaggerated snores as the two of you got ready in separate rooms. You were in the bathroom, while he remained in the main room. You didn’t need more than five minutes in front of the mirror with your makeup bag. Everything going on flawlessly for the first time probably ever. But when it came to putting on your dress, you struggled to reach the zipper that ran up the center of your back. 

“I hate to do this but-” you spoke as you came to stand in the doorway, but your tongue seemed to swell before you could get your full sentence out. 

Luc was leaning back against the dresser, his suit pants undone and his belt threatening to bring them down the length of his legs if the weight of the buckle dipped down a little too low, and he had yet to button up his pale dress shirt. It hung off his shoulder, his bare chest on full display, right down the treasure trail that ran down his abdomen and disappeared behind the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“What was that?” Luc’s hands were trying to fix his tie that had become unmanageable in his suitcase. But you barely noticed the silken fabric, you were too caught up in how his muscles tensed with his every moment. It left your skin hot, you could only hope you weren’t blushing. 

“I’ll help you with your tie if you zip up my dress,” you offered, your words softer, less playful than you had intended them to be when you first entered the room. 

“Can you tie one of these?” Luc arched his brow. 

“You can’t?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes leaving you to glance anywhere else before he pushed up from the dresser. You couldn’t tell if Luc was embarrassed, or if he was just being kind and looking away from you as you struggled to keep the unzipped dress held against your body with the clutch of your own hands over your breasts. You clutched the fabric to your chest. Your own grip amplified your own cleavage as you went braless for the dress. It was a risk but also a comfort. But you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the very reason that Luc was so hesitant to be near you. 

Your friendship with Luc in many ways was still young, even if the two of you were close. But that meant the two of you had a lot of firsts left to experience together, including some things you didn’t think you’d ever experience together, which included pretending to be his girlfriend and standing in front of him so vulnerably in the middle of the hotel room. Clutching your dress a little tighter on his approach you stiffened up and stepped out of the doorway to give Luc room to stand behind you. And you held your breath as his hands found the zipper of your dress. One pinching the sleek pull tab while the other made sure it guided effortlessly up the zipper’s teeth instead of pinching your skin. 

His fingers dragged over your skin as the zipper traveled up, stopping only when the zipper had reached the very top and they were left to graze over your flesh. You could feel as the pads of his fingers stroked over you, in a way that you were sure was done without thought. Moving up until they found your hairline. Then, he followed it, finding where you had your hair thrown over one shoulder before fixing it to hang down your back. Even then his touch seemed to linger, leaving your breath held in your chest as your eyes fell to the floor. 

Luc had never touched you like that before. 

So carefully. 

So slowly. 

Hell, had he ever really touched you? 

Sure, the two of you had shared the occasional hug. Your hands would bump and collide on occasion. When the confines were close, you could feel the heat of his body. And he was never shy about taking your head in his hands when you weren’t listening to him or he wanted to assure you that you were okay, but this? This was different. This was his skin against yours. His fleeting touch in places you were sure he hadn’t even thought of touching you before. And it lingered as you stepped forward, cleared your throat, and reached a near trembling hand out for his tie that lay limp over the end of the dresser. 

It was only with it in your hands, distracted by the silken material that you found your composure. Then, you showed Luc how to tie his tie, pausing on occasion to make sure he was paying attention because you were only going to help him with this once. 

If there was one thing you were good at, it was faking your way through awkward situations. You could put on a smile, and hide any feeling of awkwardness with false confidence with ease. And you couldn’t have been more grateful for that as you found yourself consumed by the rehearsal dinner. You had hoped that you would have been nothing more than a fly on the wall. That you could make your pleasantries with small smiles and sweet I’m great, how are you’s, but you were wrong. You found yourself to be a popular wedding guest, all thanks to Luc. 

He wasn’t the only NHL player that was going to be in attendance, but he was the only one in the bridal party. Which made him a popular target for conversation outside the bride and groom. And by proxy, you were too. 

After the rehearsal itself, and sitting down to eat, when there was time left to mingle every single conversation started with an introduction. It was always the same, with Luc’s hand finding the small of your back and stroking it slowly as he said your name and introduced you as your temporary, fake title: girlfriend. And every single time it had the same effect on you. His touch would coax you in closer to him, your body leaning into his so casually, so effortlessly it was as if you had done it many times before. It made you smile too, so wide, yet so softly that you looked excited to meet stranger after stranger. It hid that you were completely overwhelmed by the introductions and the switch from French to English and back to French again in the conversation. When in reality, you just liked how it sounded leaving his lips, you liked how it left you giddy with butterflies in your belly. And you liked how his hand never left you for in that moment, you were his. 

It was so easy to play pretend with Luc. Your chemistry was so natural because that was how it had always been. The two of you had always been comfortable with one another, especially since you had always just clicked. It was all of the lingering touches and knowing glances that were new to both of you. 

Luc would meet your gaze med conversation, his lips curling into a smirk almost as if he was on the verge of laughter before he forced himself to look away. You were sure it was his attempt at trying to find his composure, that and how his grip on your waist, or hip if it had slid downwards throughout the conversation, would grow a little tighter. 

It left you on edge all night in the best way. Your heart racing in your chest right up to the moment the two of you took to the Montreal streets together after dinner. 

The streets were left wet from the rain that had started to fall sometime after you had arrived at dinner. It reflected the city lights, glistening beautifully even as your rushed footsteps splashed through the puddles. The rain continued to fall, hitting the ground hard and leaving you to shiver as it dripped down the angles of your face and down the curves of your body. It would not be long until your dress was soaked right through, and Luc must have noticed. 

The moment the two of you were forced to stop at a red light, a mere block away from the hotel, Luc was stripping off his coat. He draped it over his arms and held it up high over the both of you in an attempt to keep you dry. But it was already too late. Your dress was sticking to your skin, and Luc was only getting wetter. You could see it in the red glow of the stoplight. The cold, wet rain soaked into the white fabric, leaving it to cling to the muscles that had already threatened the tight shirt. 

While he was failing, you appreciated the effort, your heels clicking against the sidewalk as you stepped in just a little closer to his cover to keep you from the rain. The close proximity, paid with your unsteady feet left your body colliding with his. It was a gentle bump, one that left you reaching out to steady yourself against his chest, and laughing out an apology as you looked up at him. 

Luc’s features were aglow with the red tint of the stoplight, his expression one you could quite place. It left you to narrow your eyes, your lips parting in a slow, curious, breath. He wasn’t quite smiling, and his eyes fixated completely on you. It was a soft stare, one comparable to what you would have after a long night's sleep. After sweet dreams, and before you had to force yourself to get out of bed. But you weren’t dreaming. Neither of you were as you stared at one another, the glow of the lights going from red, to green and red again before Luc leaned in. 

You held your breath, your bottom lip trembling as his smirk grew. 

“Don’t you trust me?”

You let out an unsteady exhale, one that left your entire body shivering as you nodded. 

Frozen, your eyes didn’t leave Luc’s face as he lowered his coat back down to hang off his shoulders. The cold rain met the skin of your face again, but it was only for a moment. Then, all you felt was warmth. 

If came first with the touch of Luc’s hands against your cheeks. That touch alone had sent heat flooding through your entire body. It only burned hotter as Luc leaned, the very proximity of his face sending your eyes fluttering shut. And then you could feel him. His breath washed over your face in a heated wave that came crashing down on you with the kiss of his lips against your own. 

If you had the air, you would have gasped. 

But his kiss consumed you so fully, that all you were left to breathe was Luc. 

Every single one of your senses was met by him. You could taste him, and the drinks he had consumed throughout the night on your tongue. You could smell that distinct scent of his cologne. You could feel him, and the strength of his chest beneath your palms as your hands rested on his chest, so close to clutching at the fabric of the tie. And he was the first thing you saw as you drew back and let your eyes open. 

You wanted to ask him why he had kissed you, but you were at a loss for words as you stood there, and so was he. There were only smiles shared between you as his hand found your back and let him guide you through the crowded streets back to the hotel. 

It was a silence that hung over the two of you as you returned to your hotel room and split off into separate rooms to get ready for bed. You claimed the bathroom once more. It was there you struggled to unzip on your own, and as you struggled you battled the simple thought that you could ask Luc to help you with it. That he could unzip it for you. Yet, you struggled alone. It took you a long time to work the zipper free, your body straining and weakening with every awkward reach that would send the dress to the floor in a wet heap. Then, you washed your face free of the makeup that had held up surprisingly well in the rain, before you used the fluffy white hotel towel to dry your hair. 

Warm and dry, you went through the rest of your night routine which included brushing your teeth and pulling on a pair of pajamas you found yourself regretting. You had packed them thinking you would have your own bed. They were your favorite, comfortable, with fabric light to keep you from getting too hot during the night. And they cover enough. You had planned to wear them to lounge around the hotel room, knowing full well that Luc would see you in them. But sleeping next to him in them was different. You knew the fabric would shift and move in your sleep, and the risk of waking up with one or both of your breasts hanging out was a high probability. 

The risk sat like a rock in the bottom of your stomach as you stepped out of the bathroom and stood awkwardly for a moment in the doorway. The kiss was still heavy in your mind. You didn’t know why he had done it, what his intentions may have been. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. In the love that filled the atmosphere of the rehearsal dinner and bled into every interaction with everyone afterward. But you didn’t let yourself look too much into it. Not when you knew you were just here pretending to be his girlfriend. But that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to crawl in next to him when you could practically still feel the warmth of his kiss against your lips. 

“The bathroom’s all yours,” you told him from the doorway, and it drew his eyes straight to you. 

During your time spent in the bathroom, Luc had shed his clothes and sat shirtless on his side of the bed. His shoulders were slumped and his neck craned down to look at his hands before your words piqued his interest. 

“Thanks, I won’t be long,” Luc assured as you watched him place his phone face down on the bedside table, “just set the alarm. The downside of being in the wedding party is an early start.”

Your hands came together in front of your stomach, your fingers picking at one another as you stepped out of what would be his path to the bathroom. But you didn’t crawl into bed. You hovered around it, pacing up and down what you assumed would be your side of the bed as you listened to Luc beyond the threshold of the bathroom. He had left the door open, the water running and the buzz of his electric toothbrush too loud to be ignored, and it kept drawing your gaze.

“What time do you have to be there?” 

“They’re asking before eleven,” he called back out to you after you heard him spit into the sink, “enough time to get ready, and the session with the photographer before the ceremony.”

“Which was at what time again?”

“Three,” he answered simply, “gives you lots of time to sleep in and get ready, that is unless you want to come with me.”

“I shouldn’t-”

“But you can, they wouldn’t say no - they like you.”

“Do they?”

It shouldn’t have mattered if they did. You probably wouldn’t be meeting them again after this weekend, but it made you smile to know that you had made a good impression. That was the reason you were there after all, right? To be good company for Luc? The question crossing your mind left your brows to furrow. You never really did come to understand why you were there. He had asked you to go because he already marked down going with a plus one before his breakup. But why did he have to tell people you were his girlfriend? That you had never been answered. 

“Hey, Luc-” you started, moving to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. You peeked around it, the question on the very tip of your tongue only for it to be lost at the sight of him. 

Luc stood hunched over the sink, his hands pressing a towel to his face but it didn’t stop the water from dripping down the angles of his bare chest. The sight of it was enough to leave you mute, but when his eyes found you, his expression consumed by the softest of smiles as he waited for you to say something, anything, you choked out any words you could manage. 

“Is it alright if I turn the lights off?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right in,” Luc said, and you peeled yourself away from the wall. 

It hadn’t been what you wanted to say, and the question would eat at you all through the night - and maybe even the entirety of the trip - but you struggled to find your composure with Luc now. It had been easy before. He had been nothing more than your closest friend, but that was before he kissed you. 

It hadn’t been a simple kiss. Nor was it fleeting. Luc had stopped you there in the street and kissed you so deliberately, and you didn’t know why. There was so much you wanted to know, so many questions that needed answers, but you didn’t know how to ask them. 

So instead, you suffered in silence. 

You turned off the lights, sending the room into darkness with the exception of the warm glow of the bathroom light bleeding into the room. It illuminated your every moment, casting your shadow across the bed and dancing over the hotel room walls as you pulled back the blanket and crawled into bed. 

The cool, crisp sheets welcomed your body, sending a shiver straight through you as you hadn’t quite recovered from the rain’s cold. And for a moment, you thought you may never. That was until the bathroom lights went dark, and you felt the opposite side of the bed shift as Luc climbed in. He was more than an arm’s reach away. Yet, you could feel his warmth. 

You tried to ignore it, and how it radiated over the sheets and into the blanket. But then Luc rolled over, and his legs brushed yours so quickly it could have only been an accident. The feeling lingered against your skin, his hairy legs so coarse against your legs that you shaved before dinner and would shave them again before the wedding tomorrow.  The contrast of your contact should have left you flinching away, but it was drawing you in. Your legs bent a little more just to feel him. 

It was a slow, careful drag. The inside of your leg moving up and over his. It was then you realized just how small the bed felt with Luc in it. Just how close his body was to yours. 

Then he rolled over again. Leaving you flinching back as he tossed and turned. 

Both of you were restless. 

You were too afraid to roll over, and Luc constantly moved in an attempt to get comfortable. Both needed sleep, but it failed to take you. 

Your mind was too focused on the kiss and on his warmth. 

It left your body quivering with a heavy breath as you shifted from your side to your back, and finally to your other side where you finally came face to face with a sleepless Luc. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice a low whisper, so low that it was almost a growl in the dark. 

You shook your head, your hair surely becoming a mess between your head and the pillow. 

There wasn’t much you could see through the darkness. But what you could see, left you holding your breath. There was a glimmer of light coming in through the window and you weren’t sure if it was a street light or if the clouds cleared and let in the light of the moon. No matter what it was, the light caught Luc’s eyes, his stare on your features. It dragged down from your eyes, down over the angle of your nose only to drop to your lips where they lingered before gliding back up again. And it illuminated his chain, a silver gleaming, as it hung off his  neck, down his chest and shoulder, and down onto his arm that he used as his pillow. 

It was a chain he always wore. One that hung off his neck all night, and all day, even when he was out on the ice. He kept it trapped between his equipment, his cross over his heart. And you knew it. Something so familiar, shouldn’t have been so captivating, but it was drawing in your touch. Your arm reached out, your fingers meeting the warm chain before they slipped and landed on his chest. 

Your lips parted, your tongue ready to curse for being so careless but your larynx was left weak. You couldn’t find your words, your throat closer to gasping as Luc was leaning in, closer. Closer. So close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin and his lips found yours again. 

Unlike the first time, Luc didn’t ask for your permission. He didn’t need to, because you had been leaning in too. You welcomed his kiss as your fingers coiled around his thick silver chain. If you could have twisted it around your index finger you would have, but instead, you fisted it in your hand, using the delicate tension to draw Luc in further. 

You could not get him close enough, even with your lips joined together in a kiss that only grew deeper. You didn’t have to worry about being in the middle of the street now. No one was watching. It was just you and Luc, alone, together in the hotel bed. There was nothing but privacy, and no one to know that you had indulged yourself in the kiss of your best friend. 

The best friend that you told all of your other friends that you didn’t like Luc like that. That that two of you were just friends and it would be weird to be anything more than that. 

But there was no ignoring how good it felt to kiss him. To feel the roughness of his stubble against your face, and his tongue stroke along your own in your mouth. It had you melting, both metaphorically and physically. So much so that you pressed your legs firmly together in an attempt to combat the weakness between your legs that left your arousal to puddle in your panties. 

It was the only thing you could do in restraint, but any thought of holding back was quickly fading as Luc’s hands began to explore your body. They were warm, and calloused from his days spent training in the gym for the coming season. And they ran down the angles of your arms before dropping to your waist. Fingers wrinkled the soft fabric of your pajamas, bunching it up around your ribcage so he could feel the soft warmth of your skin against his palms. Luc’s touch sent a shiver coursing down your spine, and a soft groan from his lips. One that sounded so sweet to your ears, and you felt it against your lips. It was the first of what would be a symphony of sounds.

Soft moans became groans that he guided you to straddle his waist. Your body on top of his, his between your thighs. It coaxed out heavy breaths, and desperate sighs as hands touched what had once been untouched. And you welcomed it, encouraged it as your body became consumed by need, by instinct, and your hips rolled to tease the stiffness of his cock that you could feel pressed up against your clothed core. 

You could feel his smile grow against his lips at the simple action, his teeth coming down to tug at your lower lip in a playful nip that left your legs squeezing around his strong thighs. There was only so much more you could take, and he knew that too. He must have been able to see it, feel it, hear it as he pulled back and mumbled your name against the angle of your jawline. 

There was a fine line between friendship and more. The kiss had toed that line. It had corrupted your mind with the thought of more, and the two of you found yourself on the very verge of crossing a line there would be no coming back from. If you fucked him, you wouldn’t be just friends anymore. You would be caught between friendship and something more. Something complicated, and undefined. Something that could threaten your friendship. There would be no going back to how things were before. That was clear, even with your clothes still on. The kiss changed everything, and put your friendship in jeopardy. Which made the choice you had to make easier. 

You could lose him either way, so you would dive in head first. 

No regrets. 

“Take your clothes off,” you breathed out, a simple instruction, your decision made. 

Together your bodies fumbled, your clothes not coming off fast enough. Limbs collided, your hands pulling off your top before you fell to the side to pull your bottoms and panties both off in swift motions that left you bare. He didn’t help you, and you didn’t help him, but once you both were naked your bodies met again. His hands found your hips, drawing you back to where you had once sat in his lap, and his mouth continued its sweet assault on your lips. 

The first thing you did once Luc was between your legs again, your knees pressed down on the plush surface of the mattress, was let your hips resume their teasing roll. You had hoped to coax another groan from his lips, but this time you could feel his cock glide along your slick and it left you shuddering. If the sweetness of Luc’s lips hadn’t consumed your lips, you would have cursed him for just how good he felt without even being inside you. Your core clenched, and you did it again. And again. Your hips rolling, to and fro, Luc’s cock embraced by your body and coating him with your click. 

The feeling had him throwing his head back, a sting of French words you didn’t understand leaving his lips like a sweet melody. Part of you wished you knew what he said, but a part of you loved it. The mystery of not knowing was sexy. 

You teased Luc with the friction of your body, and the wetness of your arousal so much that it was almost a form of self torture. And he admired you the entire time you did it. His hands stroked over your body, along the curves of your body. Hands cupped at your breast, giving them a gentle squeeze, before trailing down. Fingertips left a grazing touch over your stomach, making the firm grapes of his hands around your hips all the more shocking. Biceps flexed as he lifted you up just enough to reach a single hand down to take hold of his cock.  

Hair fell down into your face as you looked down, your eyes on his hand as it stroked his cock. The careful guidance of his hand brought the head of his cock to your core, and for a second you thought he might tease you. That he would drag the tip of his cock along your dripping entrance until you couldn’t take the teasing. 

Luc had always looked like the type to want to tease his lover. To make them beg. 

But maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. Or maybe he was just desperate for you because he didn’t waste time with you. Luc raised his hip, pressing his cock up into your eager core before his hand found your hip again to guide you down along his cock. 

Legs quivered at the mere feeling of him, and your lips parted in a gasp at the fullness of his cock buried deep in your core. It left your head spinning, your eyes shut as you were seeing starts at the very pleasure of just feeling him. All of him. 

You rode him slowly, your hips rolling as your hands came down to brace yourself against the strength of your chest. And you rode him until the muscles in your legs burned and your lips parted in a panting breath. It was then that Luc took hold of you and flipped you over until you lay flat on your back, and not once were you void o his cock. It remained buried deep inside your walls, and deeper once he had you laying out on your back. 

His hands guided your legs to wrap around his hips, and your hips collided with his every impactful trust that left your core clenching. Yet, you were desperate for more. 

Your hand that had found the mattress in a knuckle-white grasp left the white sheets and sought blinding for one of Luc’s hands. You found it, taking it in the hold of both of your own and guiding it to where you wanted his hold. 

Around your throat. 

His grasp was careful, yet firm as you stretched your neck out for him. The simple action brought another string of words you didn’t understand spilling from his lips. 

Your core clenched. 

He spoke again so lowly it was more of a growl, and his hold grew a little tighter. Luc could feel the effect it had on you as he fucked you. His every thrust was deep and steady, leaving you gasping, moaning, and quivering as he brought you closer and closer to the very peak of your pleasure. It left you gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving half-moon crescents in his flesh, and your legs winding tight around him as you were lost in the pleasure of Luc. You were so completely consumed by him, mind and body, that your head was left spinning. It was a dreamy daze of pleasure, one that didn’t feel real as Luc buried himself right down to the hilt of his cock and unloaded deep into your core. 

And he remained there, tired, panting, as he slumped down to lay in the bed, his hand finally falling away from your throat. Together, your bodies still joined as if they were one, you lay there. Panting, staring. Tired, but nowhere near ready to sleep. It was the perfect time to let regret and doubt consume you. 

But then Luc smiled. 

You smiled too. 

And you regretted nothing.  

When you woke up in the morning, Luc was already gone. He had gotten up early with his alarm, and left you to sleep in after your unexpectedly late night together. But it wasn’t without thought. Luc had brought breakfast back up to the room and had left the note. You would have until two in the afternoon to enjoy your day. Then, a town car would be at the hotel to pick you up. It would bring you to the cathedral, where he would meet you after the reception. 

You spent the day in bed, making no effort to dress in anything more than the complimentary robe. You picked at the breakfast he left for you and sipped the coffee that was left along with it. After the night you had, you would need the caffeine to get through the day. Then, when the time wound closer and closer to two, you stepped into the shower and washed away the salt of sweat that remained on your skin, and the remnants of Luc that had dried on the inside of your thighs. 

A part of you felt that what happened was all a dream. That you may be dreaming still. But little things brought you back to reality. The tenderness of your core with every stride around the hotel room as you got dressed. The heat of your curling iron when you held it a little too close to your neck. And the shrillness of your alarm at 1:30 all kept you grounded as you rode out the high of your night. 

There was an elegance in your stride as you made your way through the hotel lobby. One that had a bit of a hop in your step, and a confidence in your smile as you waved to the bellboy who admired your body in your dress as you made your way out the doors and out into the streets where you met the town car. 

It was a quick ride to the cathedral, and you fell straight into the chaos that came with a wedding. There were what felt like hundreds of people, and you were merely one of them as you found an empty seat near the back. You sat in the pew, your eyes admiring the stained glass, the beautiful architecture, and the almost sickeningly sweet atmosphere of love that consumed every person and every little detail in the cathedral. Normally, it would have left your nose wrinkled with disgust. You hated weddings. You didn't believe in love. But you were consumed so fully by the afterglow of sex, and it left you in love with the idea of love. 

Then, the music began to play, and the ceremony began. 

You were sure that you would be lost in the crowd. Just one face lost among family and friends closer to the bride and groom than you could ever be, but Luc found you the moment he stepped through the door with a pretty bridesmaid on his arm.

Your eyes locked, and you held your breath. He acknowledged you with a subtle nod, and your hand raised in a small wave as you admired him. Luc looked too good in his suit, the pants just a little tight around his thighs, and the color of his tie matched the hue of his eyes. It is a color you admire throughout the ceremony, his gaze finding yours as the bride and groom exchanged their vows, and again when they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

By the end of it all, you wanted nothing more but to kiss him. But could you?

Sure, you were pretending to be his girlfriend, but last night left you were too many unanswered questions. Did the night have the same effect on you as it did you? Was this more than just pretending? You wouldn’t get your answers. 

But you did get your kiss. 

Luc found you in the crowded church as the guests, his hands falling to your waist to draw you in. You stood flush against him, and one of his hands raised to capture your chin between his thumb and forefingers to guide you up for a slow, simple kiss. And when he pulled back, his soft smile silenced any question that sent anxiety coursing through you. 

It was the first of many kisses that peppered your evening. Luc kissed you sweetly when he left to sit at the head table and you were forced to mingle with strangers. He kissed you again when he found you after the first few dances, his hands guiding you out onto the dancefloor to dance together. And again before he left you alone at your table with the promise of returning with a flute of pink champagne. 

It would be your third, or fourth, drink of the night. You hadn’t exactly been counting. You had one to sip in your hands while you socialized and you needed another after dancing. One after the other, you welcomed its sweet taste and the feeling of the bubbles against your tongue. And you welcomed the warm fuzzy feeling that came with drinking it. It left you too comfortable in the crowded room. Too comfortable with having Luc’s hands on your body, and his lips on your lips,  as you spoke to his friends, to strangers, as his girlfriend.

The title garnered a crowd. Everyone wanted to know how you met, how long you were together, and every little detail that you were willing to offer them. The questions were easy to answer because you didn’t have to lie. And those you did have to create some kind of answer for, were born from truth. But handing it all alone in Luc’s absence, while he was taking longer than expected to get you a drink, left you overwhelmed and desperate for a moment alone. 

Excusing yourself with a smile, you promised to return once you found Luc, and you began to walk past the crowded dancefloor towards the bar. Your steps were unsteady, the buzz of the champagne coursing pleasantly through your body as you pushed your way through crowds. You kept your eyes sharp, looking for Luc in the winding line at the bar only for your brows to furrow. He wasn’t there. You stopped in place, turning in place slowly, trying to find where he could have wandered off to. 

You didn’t find him at the head table with the bride and groom who were still on the dancefloor. He was with the maid of honor who was trying to prepare the cake for cutting. And he wasn’t with the groomsmen on the way back from smoking cigars. No, you found him in the shadows by the bathrooms, tucked away from the chaos. And he wasn’t alone. 

You couldn’t see who he was with at first as you pushed through the crowd to meet him. But then, as you got closer, you wish you hadn’t. 

Luc was tucked away with his ex. 

They were standing a little too close for comfort. His hands were cradling each of her cheeks, her hands resting atop his,  as he stood, arched over so that she could hear him speak in his hushed tones. You could see his lips moving, but you couldn’t hear a single word. But you didn’t need to. His body said it all, as did the look on her face. Her eyes were glassy, her lips swollen, and her hands clutching at his tie. Your mind was quick to connect the dots, jumping to one conclusion, and one conclusion only. 

Luc had brought you there to make her jealous. 

And it worked. 

She wanted him back, and you were sure you had just caught them at the end of kissing and making up. 

There was a heaviness that consumed your gut. It was a coiling of regret and naivety sitting there like a rock as you were sobered by your own anger. How could you have been so stupid to think that this was the opportunity for the both of you to be something more? 

It left a sour taste in your mouth as you stumbled back, running into guests you didn’t know and drawing too much attention to yourself. You muttered out rushed apologies, your voice breaking but you were nowhere near tears. You were too angry to cry, but you knew you needed to get out of there before that anger boiled down to sorrow. 

Quick steps carried you to your table, your hand grabbing your clutch like you were Indiana Jones stealing a treasured idol and a large bolder was now in full pursuit. But your bolder was Luc. 

You could hear him calling after you as you pushed your way to the exit. You ran when you could, but it would never be fast enough. You couldn’t outrun him if you tried. And when he finally caught up to you, you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, dazed by the rush of traffic on the busy Montreal street. 

There was nowhere else for you to go, so you turned around and you faced him. 

“You knew she was going to be here, didn’t you?” You threw your words at him, the question emphasized by the honking of Montreal city traffic as you stood in the center of the sidewalk, crowds from the wedding and general foot traffic moving around the both of you in a blur. And you just stared at him, waiting for an answer, an answer he couldn’t give you, because he knew you wouldn’t like it. He did know she was going to be here, you could see it in the ashamed look on his face, and the sad look in his eyes. And you should have known that too. They had been together for years. His friends were her friends too. 

It made you want to scream, but instead, you took a few steps towards him, your palms meeting the strength of his chest to shove him back towards the door of the venue. 

“You’re a fucking joke,” you said, your voice not once losing its harsh confidence even if it so desperately wanted to break like your heart already had deep in your chest. 

“You could have saved me and yourself a lot of trouble if you had just come alone, Luc. But no, everything is always so complicated with you. You can’t make anything easy. You’ve got to make her jealous right? So it’s all the more satisfying when you get her back into your bed.” 

Your name slipped from his lips, a desperate plea as he tried to reach out to you. You stared at his hand for only a moment, his reach so tempting to reach out to. He wanted you to take it, to hold your hand and draw you in. What he would do after that, you didn’t know. And you wouldn’t find out. You would rather step out into traffic. And you did. Your heels met the wet roadway, splashing through the shallow puddles as you came to stand between parked cars. 

“We were just-”

You almost groaned at the sound of his voice. You didn’t want to hear it anymore. So you cut in before he could try to feed you any excuse he could come up with. 

“Pretending? Your head cocked to the side, an unpleasant smile on your lips, “you’re right. We were. All of this was just fucking pretend. So I’m done pretending.” 

Throwing your hands up, you moved further from the curb to hail a cab from the chaos of the Montreal city traffic. But Luc was moving into the street after you, his footsteps making your shoulders tense up before you could turn around and see that it was him. 

“Can you just give me a second to fucking say anything?” His voice was strained with the frustration that was painted all over his face. 

“Why should I?” You bit back. 

“Just let me explain-”

“Explain, ha,” you laughed, “As much as I would love to see how you would justify this, I’ve given you more than enough of my time, Luc.”

The conversation didn’t end there. 

Luc always needed to try to get the last word. “You’re impossible!”

But you never let him have it. “And you’re an asshole,” you told him with a forced smile before climbing into the cab that was holding up traffic in the street. 

A symphony of honks was the background music as you told your destination to the driver. You would return to the hotel, spend the night there, and come morning you would catch your flight back to Winnipeg. After that, you hoped you’d never have to see Luc again. What he had done to you, in your mind, was unforgivable, and it sent you into tears as you sat alone in the back seat of the taxi cab. 

Act 3. 

It was the ring of the courtesy call that woke you up the morning after the wedding. Your flight was in a mere few hours, your checkout time dawning on you, and you couldn’t have been happier. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could try to forget what happened. You had tried to forget it already, but as you threw back your blanket, and swung your legs over the side of the bed to place your feet flat on the ground you were met by the biggest reminder of the mistakes you had made when agreeing to go to Montreal. 

On the floor, draped under a decorative throw blanket, was Luc. 

A sigh so heavy that you almost groaned rocked you. He sure had some balls to come back to the hotel room after what happened the night before. You had made it quite clear that you were less than impressed with him, and what he did. Surely he had to know the severity of his deceit. That it had not only been cruel to you but to his ex as well. The manipulation and the lies-

You stopped yourself midthought, your eyes falling to where he slept on the floor so peacefully. If he had come all the way out here playing pretend with you just to win his ex back, why was he here in the room? 

It was a question you tried to ignore as you quietly changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to wear on the flight home. And one you pushed further into the back of your mind as you took a quick inventory of the hotel room bathroom to make sure you hadn’t left anything behind. 

You shouldn’t care to know why he was there. But you did care enough not to let him miss his flight - or well, be the reason he missed it. Grabbing your packed back you nudged Luc in the back with your sneaker-clad foot on the way to the door. You didn’t greet him with pleasantries and instead met him with the same harshness he heard from you the night before. 

“Get up asshole, you’re going to miss your flight,” you stood in the doorway long enough to watch Luc wake up in a panic. The last thing you saw on your way out the door was his hand lurching out to grab his watch to check the time. 

You left him behind, your suitcase rolling in your wake as you followed the same route out of the hotel as you did the night before. You waved to the bellhop in the lobby, your smile a little weaker this time, and instead of meeting a town car, you found a vacant taxi and loaded your luggage into the back seat with you. 

“Trudeau International Airport, please?” You asked of him with a sigh, your head leaning back against your seat. 

You could have fallen asleep there, your eyes falling shut as you heard the turning signal of the cab begin its rythmic tick as he tried to merge into busy traffic. It was almost soothing, hypnotic, but it was broken by the abrupt opening of the back door. 

Your eyes opened quickly, your body lurching defensively away from the door as your heart raced, startled. Your lips parted to yell at the idiot who didn’t see that the cab was already occupied, but you were met with the familiar face of Luc. You wanted to be relieved at the sign of him, but your disgust continued to bubble deep inside your gut. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him to fuck off and find another taxi. Instead, you sat in silence, your gaze leaving him and looking out the window to fixate on the buildings as they passed. 

To your relief, Luc didn’t say a single word the entire ride to the airport. Not did he try to carry your bags when you arrived. Instead, he merely followed in your wake, until you came to the check-in counter. It was there you decided to let him go first. 

It was an innocent thing. Something he didn’t even question as he checked in for the flight. A first-class seat that would take him back to Winnipeg. And he even lingered afterward, waiting for you to check in as if it had been a show of good faith. But in reality, it was the only way you could ensure you wouldn’t have to sit with him on the flight home. 

“I was wondering if you had any other seat available?” You spoke to the airline representative who met you with a perplexed expression. 

Luc wore one of the same, your name leaving his lips as if to beg you to change your mind. 

You weren’t going to. 

“There’s nothing else in first class,” the representative told you as if it were going to change your mind. 

“Something in economy will do just fine,” you assured them with a nod, your grip on your bag growing tighter and you didn’t ease up on your grasp until the updated ticket was in your hands and you were ready to board. 

There was a relief in going home. A relief in being able to spend the flight alone, but it wasn’t without one last attempt from Luc. He spoke your name so softly, so gently, that for a moment you considered listening to him. You hesitated in place, your eyes raising to meet his as he reached out for your arm. He gripped it carefully, not too hard, just enough to keep you in place. Just enough to assure that you would listen to what he had to say. 

“I made you this,” Luc spoke slowly, his free hand raising to show you his phone screen. On it, Spotify was open for you to see, a playlist labeled i’m sorry the only thing you could see. It was a playlist of twenty or more songs, you wouldn’t quite see, and want to get close enough to see. “Listen to it on the flight home?”

Your eyes stared at it for a moment, your tongue parting your lips to lick over them slowly as your mouth went dry. “I’ll think about it,” was all you could offer him before you pulled out of his hold and stepped aside. First class was boarding, and you were in his way. 

Luc lingered for a moment more, his eyes fixated on you until he let out a defeated sigh and left you standing alone waiting to board. It would be some time before you were called to board, yet you stood, lingering where he left you. It was there, waiting for your call to board that curiosity got the best of you. 

Your thumb stroked over your phone screen, bringing it to life with its light and pulling open Spotify with the click of a single button. There, you found Luc’s profile and the playlist he had made for you. Twenty-five songs. 1 hour, 30-plus minutes long. It had artists you knew, and others you didn’t. Songs that were your favorite, and some you didn’t even know what they would sound like. It wouldn’t last the entire flight, but it would kill time, and maybe it would help you understand. 

Quickly you downloaded the list, and when you boarded the plane and found your seat, you pressed play. 

Kiss Her You Fool. 

Take Me to Church. 

Where Do We Go From Here?

Now or Never. 

They were just a handful of the songs Luc had compiled onto the playlist for you. The playlist you had listened to from start to finish, and then started again before you had landed in Winnipeg. It had taken you through a rollercoaster of emotions. You smiled. You laughed. You cried. And it left your heart heavy in your chest as you collected your bag and made your way out to hail a cab. 

You did not completely understand what Luc was trying to say with the song he put together. Some confused you. Others gave you hope. But what you did know, was that you owed him an apology. 

You fumbled with your belongings and your phone as you stood on the platform, taxis waiting for their next passenger in front of you, as you began to dial his number. You were halfway through it when the long honk of a horn drew your eyes up, and you found Luc leaning against his car, waiting for you. 

“What are you doing-” you started, your ace blanketed with confusion as you began to take slow, cautious strides toward him. 

He had reached through the driver’s side window to honk at you before rounding to stand at the hood of his car. Arms crossed over his chest, his tattoos on full display as he left his sweatshirt and back in the backseat of his car. 

“I owe you a ride home,” he told you simply. It had always been the plan, but you hadn’t intended to take him up on it after what had happened. 

“I think you owe me a little more than that,” you told him, trying not to smile as you tossed your phone at him. 

He caught it effortlessly, the screen on, and displaying his playlist. 

Luc smiled. 

“You listened to it?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Explain,” was all you told him. 

“You’re my best friend,” he said your name, and it oozed with the pain he felt for the pain he caused you, “I didn’t do any of this to hurt you. I invited you because… Well,” he sighed,  “because you’re right. I’m a shitty person. The break up a few months ago, was because of you. She didn’t like how close you and I were. She wanted me to distance myself from you, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Then she gave me the ultimatum. You or her. And I chose you.”

A lump formed in your throat, you swallowed it back and held your breath. 

“When I invited you. My intentions weren’t the best. I wanted to mess with her, and that was wrong for me to do. Not just to her, but to you too. But I’m glad I did-”

“Luc-” you gasped out, both in shock at his words and his lack of regret for his actions. 

“I’m not finished,” he cut in, “I’m glad I did because playing pretend with you, fuck, it wasn’t just pretending.” Luc stepped away from the car, and you were frozen in place, watching him as he approached. Your bag slipped from your hold, falling to the ground as your hands reached out to welcome his body as he stepped so close to your own as he took your head in his hands and drew you in so close to his lips you could feel his words in a hot breath against your skin, “Because I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the explanation you asked for. It wasn’t what you expected to hear, but you liked hearing it. It made you smile as you reached up, your hands finding the nape of his neck and knitting in his hair as you drew him in for a kiss. 

You loved him too. 

[redrose10]

Part 1

Here is part 1 of this new story that I’m working on. I was going to post it as one big chapter, but I’ve received feedback that multiple chapters are preferred so that’s the route I went. I really hope that everyone likes it! This first part is very very angsty.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 9,602

Tag List: @viankiss

You slunk down in your office chair hanging your head low. Your boss had just chewed you out after you presented her with a draft of your newest novel that you had thought you were just about finished with, but it appears you were going to have to start from the beginning.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you thought it would?”, your best friend and coworker, Nari responded.

“She said that it’s not believable and that I need to use my own personal experiences as inspiration. I can’t keep writing the same story over and over just changing the names and location. The reader will be able to connect with it more if it’s from experience. I have two months to send her the new story or I’m on unpaid leave until I submit something worth publishing. It’s such bullshit.”, you huffed.

“I mean she kind of has a point. Anyone can put a bunch of words down on a piece of paper, but unless there is real feeling behind it then those words won’t get far.”

You rolled your eyes, “Seriously? You too? And what personal experience should I use?”

“Y/N you’ve been in relationships before. Just use one of them or a combination of all of them.”

“Oh yeah, should I go with the one who cheated on me or the one who ghosted me after he got me in his bed, or the one that would loose his temper at the smallest thing I did to upset him? I’ve never had a good relationship experience.”, you chuckle self deprecatingly.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in like that. Maybe try writing something else. Not every story has to be about a relationship, good or bad.”

Running your hands over your face you sighed, “I just don’t know what to do any more. I feel so burnt out and unmotivated. I don’t think I could come up with another story if I wanted to.”

“Why don’t you take a break? You know, get out of town for a while. I’m sure our boss won’t mind, especially if it gets you to clear your head and write something decent.”

Pondering this theory for a minute you began to think she might be on to something.

“Where would I go though? I can’t really afford to travel far and I don’t want to be too distracted that I can’t get anything done.”

After some silence Nari jumped up, “Oh I’ve got the perfect place. It’s just a four hour flight out to the countryside. A little town called, Holly Falls. My sister and her fiancé stayed there several months ago.”

Thinking it over a little it sounded like a good idea. After some begging and promising your boss that you were going to get work done while on the trip she agreed.

Once you arrived at the airport you really wished you’d done a little more research about Holly Falls. After some digging and a conversation with a very outgoing Uber Driver you found out that eleven months out of the year the town is very low key and relaxed, but for one month it is a tourist hotspot thanks to the insane amount of blooming cherry blossom trees. According to your new Uber friend, people come to Holly Falls during this month to see the fields of trees blooming in all their glory. The normally quiet town embraces the crowds providing various festivals and parades and gimmicks to draw in the guests as well as their wallets. And of course you just happen to travel over there smack dab in the middle of it all.

The driver dropped you off in the middle of the fun so with your bag slung over your shoulder you started heading into different hotels trying to book a room. In the city you could walk into pretty much any hotel at any time and book a room. You had assumed it would be same in this small town so you had decided to wait to book a room until you could see them in person wanting to get the feel and make sure you chose the right fit. You imagine in any other month it would be much easier to obtain a place to stay here, but due to the large tourist presence every single hotel was completely booked for the entire month.

You were just about ready to give up and head to the airport to see about booking a flight home when an older gentleman came up to you carrying various handmade trinkets for sale.

“See anything you like miss? All of these are under $10.”, he asked.

Politely you smiled, “No thank you. Not right now.”

You thought he had left until you saw him dangling a hand painted sun catcher in front of you. The design a beautiful beautiful cherry blossom. Trying to bite your tongue and not snap at the elderly man you again shook your head. “Here have it for free. You seem to need a little cheering up.”, he smiled.

Reaching up you grabbed the delicate glass from him, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if I came off rude. I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“Didn’t know about the cherry blossom season and now you can’t find a place to stay?”, he asked. “How did you know?”, you replied wide eyed. The elderly man chuckled while taking a seat next to you, “There’s always at least one person that gets stuck here with nowhere to stay because they didn’t know how crazy things can get around here this time of the year.”

“Mmh yeah that would be me this year. I need somewhere to stay for a couple weeks or I’m going to have to head back home.” “You know there might be somewhere that still has a room available. It’s just outside all of the hubbub. About ten miles just over that hill. If you get to Taehyung’s Strawberry Farm then you’ve gone too far.”, he said pointing in the opposite direction of the festivities. “Really? You think they’d have a room? I wonder why they wouldn’t be booked like every other place.”

The gentleman stood up from the bench you were both on, “Its worth a shot. It’s a little farther away from all the action than people like to be. Plus the owners are a little on the unique side.”

You were concerned at this statement. The last thing you wanted to do was end up being the story line of a true crime documentary.

He continued, “They are very nice people. A young man and his grandmother. They just tend to be very secluded and to themselves. It’s called Interlude Inn. You can’t miss it.”

You thanked him for the information and watched as he walked into a large group of people trying to sell the rest of his merchandise. Placing the delicate sun catcher in your bag you ordered another Uber to take you over to the inn. A familiar vehicle quickly pulled up in front of you with the same talkative man from earlier. You wondered how there weren’t any other drivers available, but you smiled as you slid in the back seat anyways.

“Leaving so soon?”, he asked.

You chuckled, “No I just need to find somewhere else to stay. Can you please take me to The Interlude Inn?” Suddenly the man stopped, turning to look back at you.

“Miss you don’t want to stay there. Surely there’s somewhere else around here you can stay.”

“Every hotel is completely booked. If this inn doesn’t have a room then I’ll have to just go home.”

He sighed, “Alright miss. If you insist.”

He began the drive to your location. His words about finding somewhere else stuck in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Yes Miss”

“What you said earlier. What is so bad about this inn?”

“Well, the grandma, I think her name is Mae, is very sweet. She’s done the best she can with what she had. But that Min boy, he’s a little odd.”

“Ohhh…Like serial killer odd?”

The man chuckled, “No not that kind of odd. He’s just very quiet and keeps to himself, but he is polite. He’s never seemed to have any friends and I doubt he’s ever had any kind of relationship. He comes into town only a few times a year, mostly when his grandmother needs something. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, even when they speak to him directly. People usually only stay at the inn as a last resort during this busy season.”

From what you’re hearing he seemed like just a quiet introverted person who loves his grandma. You weren’t sure why everyone seemed so leery of him.

The car pulled up infront of the inn. The large wooden sign out front verified you were indeed at The Interlude Inn. Thanking your driver you grabbed your bag and made your way up to the entrance.

The Inn looked cozy and welcoming. It was smaller than you had imagined. There couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. Off to the side you noticed a little garden with various plants starting to bloom.

On the door hung a welcome sign adorned with hand painted lady bugs and butterflies. Turning the handle you gently pushed in the door being greeted by a heavenly aroma making your stomach grumble. The entrance room which also doubled as a living room had two couches, one on either side of a coffee table. A television hung on the wall above a fireplace. In the corner was a small desk which you assume would be where you could request a room.

Walking over you noticed a younger man crouching down so he was eye level with one of the drawers. He appeared to be about your age, mid to late twenties. Black hair with a slight curl to it hung over his forehead. Beautiful cat like eyes and his soft lips formed into a deep pout. You wanted so badly to reach over and squeeze his chubby cheeks, but you knew that was a weirdness you didn’t want to invoke. He was fidgeting with a drawer that seemed to be stuck and you could here the argument he was having in soft whispers,

“Come on you stupid thing.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Please, I just need a pen and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

You chuckled hearing him begging the drawer to cooperate. Reaching into your bag you grabbed one of your spare pens and set it on the desk, “Here I have a pen you could use.”

The young man let out a sudden squeal after you startled him. He jumped backwards and landed on his behind with a loud thud.

“Oh no I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you had heard me come in.”, you apologized feeling terrible.

The poor guy sat on the ground trying to collect himself before bringing himself back to a standing position. That’s when you noticed his cheeks were a bright shade of red, making you want to squeeze them even more. The man didn’t say a word. His eyes were barely able to focus on you, instead they would move around the room before returning to you for just a second before he’d quickly look elsewhere.

“Ahh this must be the Min boy the driver was talking about?”, you thought to yourself. They weren’t kidding when they said he was quiet and reserved.

“Hi, I’m sorry again for scaring you. I was just wondering if you had a room I could rent for a couple weeks.”

The man just continued looking around the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t have any available. It was just recommended for me to come up here for a room since all the others are booked.”

Again silence. You were about to ask if he was okay when a door off to the left swung open and a very sweet looking elderly woman came walking out. She must be the grandmother that was mentioned. She was covered in flour so you assumed that’s where the heavenly smell was coming from.

“Yoongi dear did you get that pen yet? I need to label the jars of blueberry jam.”, she spoke. When she noticed you she jumped slightly, but not in a scared kind of way. More like an oh no how long have you been standing there while my grandson stares at you kind of way.

“Oh hi sweety, how can we help you?”, she asked. Her grandson, that you now knew was named Yoongi, was still standing off to the side. You had to intently stare at his chest to make sure he was still breathing because you were honestly getting very concerned for him.

“Yes ma’am, I was wondering if you had any available rooms that I could rent for the next couple of weeks?”

She smiled while pulling out an old and beat up note book to take down your info. You liked the old school feel. It was much different than the digital kingdom of the city where you lived.

“Of course dear. Did you need one bed or two?”

“Just one will be fine.”

“Okay and you said two weeks?”

“Yes please.”

“No problem. Just fill out your name and address here. Payment will be due at the end of your stay when you check out.”

Quickly you wrote down all the requested information before handing the book back over. You couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi still hadn’t moved, but his cheeks were still a bright shade of pink so you knew he was at least breathing.

The grandma spoke again, “Thank you so much dear. My name is Mae, but you can call me grandma, granny, halmeoni, MaeMae, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Even though you’ve heard that joke countless times you still laughed. Something about this sweet woman warmed your heart.

She continued, “This is my grandson Yoongi. He can help you with your bags and show you to your room. You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. It should be ready in about twenty minutes or so.”

You thanked her profusely and watched as she walked back into the kitchen. Yoongi walked around the desk without making eye contact. He reached for your bag that was currently sitting on the ground and you noticed a shake to his hand due to his nerves.

“Uh uh um y-you c-can follow me.”, he spoke before walking down the long hallway. He opened the door to small cozy room. A window sat overlooking the garden. A bed adorned with a lilac colored quilt sat against the wall. There was a dresser available for storage and a desk off to the side. It was perfect.

Yoongi laid your bag down at the foot of the bed. You wanted to ask him if he needed to lie down based on how terrified he looked. Instead you opted to try and get him to speak to you at all.

“Hi Yoongi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You stuck your hand out offering a hand shake. It was getting awkward waiting for him to return the gesture, but just before you were going to dejectedly pull your hand back he reached up and took your hand in his.

With his cheeks back to bright red he quickly bowed and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

Since dinner was going to be ready soon you opted to just lay in bed enjoying the comfort after a long day of travel. When Mae called you for dinner you entered the dining room surprised to only see her and Yoongi sat at the table.

“Am I the only guest?”, you asked suddenly feeling out of place.

“Yes dear, but don’t worry. We are so happy to have you here.”, she smiled pulling out a chair for you.

You nodded taking the offered seat while she filled up your bowl with some beef soup.

“So Y/N, what brings you to Holly Falls? I’m assuming it’s the cherry blossoms.”, she asked.

“Oh no I just needed to take a little vacation and clear my head. Having some work problems. My friend recommended this town to me. I didn’t even know about the cherry blossoms until I got here.”

“Well you’re going to love it here. There’s no more of a relaxing place.”

You smiled and accepted the second helping of soup. The two of you kept the conversation going talking about this and that. Yoongi never said a word. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him sneaking little glances in your direction before quickly turning his head but you chose to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass him.

After dinner you offered to help clean up the kitchen which was greatly appreciated. Mae sent Yoongi out to the garden to collect some chamomile to make tea. As she rinsed off the dishes you would take them and dry them before putting them in their respective spots.

“Thank you for being gentle with Yoongi.”, she spoke breaking the silence.

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that and apparently your face showed it because she continued,

“He really is such a caring and sweet young man. He’s just been hurt so many times and he’s so afraid of letting someone in for fear of it happening again. I worry what will happen to him when I’m no longer here. I don’t want him to be alone. He deserves the world and I hope that one day he finds someone that will give it to him.”

You wanted to ask questions, but felt it wasn’t a good idea to pry when you’ve only known this family for a few hours.

“He seems very sweet. I’d love to get to know him more.”, you responded.

“Oh please do. Go slow, but I think if you keep at it he just might open up to you. As soon as you went to your room he came to me and said you seemed like a very genuine person.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought.

“Do you know if he has any interests or anything? Maybe something I could ask him about.”

She lightly chuckled, “Well he loves music. He has these notebooks that he’s always writing lyrics in, but he has never let anyone look at them. He likes basketball. He was really good when he was younger, but he doesn’t play it much any more. Oh! And you’d never guess it but he likes to knit. He’d be furious if he ever found out I told you that so you didn’t hear that one from me.”

You nodded in agreement before putting the final plate away just as Yoongi returned with the requested chamomile. He shyly smiled at you before nervously running out of the room. After enjoying a cup of tea you said goodnight and made your way back to your room for the evening.

The following morning you cranklily padded to the dining area. Mornings were not your thing. Thankfully you were greeted with the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread. Mae was nowhere to be seen, but Yoongi was standing at the counter chopping some vegetables for what you presumed was an omelet based on all the ingredients in front of him. You stood in the doorway thankful that he hadn’t noticed you yet as it gave you a chance again to admired his features. You smiled at how the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration as he focused on chopping an onion.

Silently you walked up next to him and smiled, “Anything I can help with?” The poor thing nearly jumped two feet in the air also letting the knife slip which sliced the tip of his thumb. When you saw the small amount of blood coming to the surface you panicked.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry Yoongi. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. What was I thinking?”, you said grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the sink. He hadn’t said a word.

After thoroughly washing the cut and using a paper towel to dry it you asked if there were any bandaids. Shyly he pointed underneath the sink and you found a first aid kit.

“Okay this might sting a little.”, you said applying the disinfectant. You felt awful when you saw his body flinch. After the cut was securely wrapped in a bandaid you began apologizing again, “I’m so sorry Yoongi. This is not how I intended for this to go. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt still? Is there anything I can do?”

For the first time since you arrived you saw a full blown smile on his face. He shook his head, “N-No thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well let me help you prepare breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

After some hesitation he agreed so you cleaned up the work station and got a new cutting board before you got to work chopping the rest of the vegetables. When breakfast was over and you had helped clean up you decided to go back to your room for a while and try to get some work done. Unfortunately things weren’t going that great. You were still struggling to put together a decent storyline and after two hours of staring at your laptop you decided to give up and take a break.

Peaking out the window you noticed Yoongi working in the garden. He looked adorable in his overalls and dark green sweater. A matching green beanie on to give a little more warmth. You wondered if he had knit it himself. You grabbed your jacket and decided to head outside for some fresh air.

Not wanting a repeat from the morning you loudly made your presence known as to not startle him again. Only when you were sure that he had noticed you did you decided to say something.

“What are you working on?”, you asked crouching down next to him.

He whispered something that you couldn’t quite catch. You noticed the redness intensifying in his cheeks too. He was just so incredibly cute.

“What kind of seeds are these?”

“Oh they are um cabbage and um radish seeds.”, he said without looking up from the dirt.

“Hmmm I know nothing about gardening, but isn’t it still too cold to plant these? I always thought it needed to be hot for seeds to grow.”

“S-Some s-seeds can grow when it’s colder out. Then we’ll h-harvest them and p-plant the rest.”

“Ahhh I see. I never even knew that was possible. What else are you planting?”

Did you care about gardening or seeds or soil quality? No absolutely not. But this was the most Yoongi has spoken to you so you rattled off question after question and made odd comments here and there just to get him to keep talking. By the time you were done his face was beet red and his hands were shaking quite a bit more than earlier. You were starting to feel bad and like you were pushing him past his breaking point so you wanted to give him some space.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your knees you said, “Well it’s gotten quite chilly out. I’m gonna head inside. Thank you for teaching me so much. Maybe one day I’ll have a garden and you could come see it for yourself.”

He nodded without looking up at you and you took that as his way of saying goodbye. Once inside you found a smiling Mae standing in the kitchen.

She handed you hot bowl of leftover soup for lunch and sat at the table next to you.

“You know, that’s the longest I’ve ever seen him converse with someone other than me in a long long time. Normally he’d just get up and walk away without saying a word.”

The thought of asking about Yoongi’s past crossed your mind again, but you pushed it aside still not feeling that it was the right time.

The next couple days followed a similar path. You’d wake up, help Yoongi make breakfast, try to work for a little, and then you’d go find Yoongi and try to talk to him and get him to open up to you. He never said much but he’d nod or say a word here or there to let you know he was listening. Mae would always be amazed at how well Yoongi responded to you. After a while you’d give him some space and then join the two of dinner followed by tea and then you’d head off to bed.

On the fifth day you decided to go out and explore a little. You ended up at Taehyung’s Strawberry farm which was just up the road from the Inn. Taehyung or Tae as he told you to call him was a very kind and outgoing guy. The farm had been passed down in his family for six generations. He gave you a tour of the entire farm and introduced you to his farmhands/friends Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Jin was in charge of harvesting the strawberries and also coming up with new items to sell at the onsite bakery. Hoseok or Hobi as he was called was in charge of maintenance of the crops, things like making sure they got enough water but not too much water and pruning the plants where necessary. Namjoon was the bookkeeper. He kept track of orders and anything numbers related. Jungkook was the youngest of the four. According to Tae, he was the muscle of the group and would do various things around the farm that involved a lot of physical strength.

They all seemed like very sweet gentleman and made you feel very welcome from the start.

“So what brings you all the way out here? Most people try to stay closer to the main town this time of year.”, Jin asked setting a strawberry cream puff in front of you.

“I wasn’t able to get a room in town so I’m staying at The Interlude Inn.”

“I see. With Mae and Yoongi? How are they doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by and drop off a strawberry pie for them.”

“They seem to being doing well. They’ve been so hospitable.”

“Even Yoongi?”, Jungkook said taking a seat next to you. You noticed a hint of a chuckle in his question.

“Yes even Yoongi. He’s on the quiet side, but I think he’s starting to warm up to me a little bit.”

“Wow he must really like you then. I’ve been trying to get him to open up for years.”, Taehyung said walking over.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused as to why everyone always seems to think he’s some cold jerk.

He continued, “We’ve just been trying to get him to hang out with us for the last few years. I’ve offered him multiple jobs around here. We’ve invited him over for dinner or to go get drinks in town. Namjoon tried to set him up on a date with his sister. He just always turns and walks away without saying a word. We’ve kind of just given up.”

“Oh yeah I guess maybe I’m just special then.”, you said before taking another bite of the cream puff.

It was pretty late by the time you had gotten back to the inn. Jin had given you a ride back as it looked like there was an early spring thunderstorm about to hit. When you walked inside you set the strawberry pie on the counter. Mae had already gone to sleep, but Yoongi was sitting in the common area watching a basketball game. He looked so cozy wrapped up in a hoodie that was a little too big for him and a fluffy fleece blanket on his lap. Now that you thought about it he was always dressed very warmly. Sweatshirts, sweaters, or multiple layers all with long sleeves. You’ve never seen any skin other than his hands and neck and face. It was on the chilly side being that it was barely the beginning of the spring, but nothing that you thought warranted that kind of clothing constantly. It was odd to you, but nothing you wanted to question him about right now because maybe it was just a comfort thing for him you thought. Instead you walked over to the couch making your presence known so that you didn’t startle him.

“Mind if I join you?”, you asked. Silently he scooted over to make room and you took that as a yes. You watched the game for a few minutes trying to come up with something to say, but you really didn’t know much about basketball or sports in general.

“Is that Michael Jordan?”, you asked after the camera followed a player who had just scored a basket.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Lebron James?”

He shakes his head.

“Steph Curry?”

Again another head shake.

You chuckled, “Well those are the only basketball players I know so I give up.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the slightest smile from on his lips which you took as encouragement to continue.

“Oh so did he just score a touchdown?”, you asked. In reality you knew that was a completely different sport, but you were hoping that somehow this would get a little engagement on his part.

You looked at him expectantly noticing his cheeks heat up under your stare.

“Umm n-no that was a free throw, not a touchdown.”

“Hmm and a free throw is worth one or two points?”

“It’s w-worth one point.”

You didn’t want to over stress him out so you decided to give him some quiet and stop with the questions for a while.

The referee in the game blew his whistle and started making a bunch of hand gestures. You were about to lean over and ask about it when a bright flash of light shown through the windows followed by a loud clap of thunder. The floor beneath your feet seemed to shake from the force. Another flash of light lit up the room and some more thunder hit making even you jump a little.

“Wow that’s some storm.”, you said looking over at Yoongi only to be met with nothing.

“Yoongi?”, you question looking around the room wondering how he was able to get up and run so fast.

After standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen to see if maybe he had went in there you saw the fleece blanket he was holding earlier leaning up against the back of the couch and thanks to the added light from another lightning strike you noticed that the blanket was also covering a lump. Getting closer you saw little tufts of black hair poking out. Gently you reached and pulled the blanket down slightly. You could feel your heart breaking seeing him like this. Curled up in a ball with his hands over his ears and tears on his cheeks.

“Yoongi it’s okay. It’s just a thunderstorm.”, you said trying to soothe him. When your words didn’t seem to help you went to reach for his hand feeling him tense at your touch.

“No please don’t hurt me. Please.”, he cried out making you recoil. “Yoongi it’s Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me get you to be-.” You felt a hand on your should and found Mae looking down at you with a sad expression on her face. She bent down the best she could in her old age to get his attention and when he finally recognized her the tension seemed to leave his body, at least momentarily until another crack of thunder rang through the air.

Mae helped him up off the ground and you’d stayed m back watching as she helped him down the hall, his legs shaking ever so slightly. Just before they entered his room Mae turned to you and pointed towards the kitchen. You took the hint and went to get a couple cups of tea ready.

After about fifteen minutes she returned and took a seat next to you thanking you for the tea.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”, she sighed.

“No I just, I don’t, I…”, you couldn’t find the words. You knew it was slightly odd for a grown adult to be that petrified of a thunderstorm, but you knew there must be a reason. Judging by Mae’s reaction this seemed to be a common occurrence. You just didn’t know how to move forward without sounding rude.

“Mae, please forgive me if this comes off to forward or harsh, but has some thing happened to Yoongi in his past?”

She took a sip of tea before getting more comfortable in the chair and nodding her head.

“Yes dear. Yoongi, my sweet sweet Yoongi, has been through a lot. More than any person should have to especially at his young age. You see Yoongi’s father left a few weeks after he was born. Yoongi was born too early and was very small and sickly. His father didn’t want any part of his life. My daughter did the best she could with Yoongi. I helped whenever I could as well. She was such a loving mother. When Yoongi was about two years old she married a man who I didn’t necessarily approve of, but there was nothing I could do. She was an adult and she seemed happy. He quickly moved my daughter and Yoongi to the other side of the country. I only got to see them a couple times year. I started to have suspicions that something was wrong when Yoongi was four years old. I went to visit and noticed that my daughter and Yoongi both had old bruises. When I questioned it my daughter claimed that she tripped while carrying him and fell down some stairs. Then when Yoongi was six he told me how he had heard his mom and stepdad in their bedroom making lots of noise. His mom was yelling and there were loud bangs, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. I questioned her once again and she said that her and her husband must’ve just gotten too loud while in bed together and that she’d remind him in the future that they needed to be quieter. I wasn’t completely convinced, but I had no other proof.”

Mae took a long breath clear that this was hard for her to recall and you were starting to feel guilty for even asking.

She continued on, “When Yoongi was about seven his mom got very sick and unfortunately passed away. I tried to visit him more, but as time went on his step dad cut me off more and more. I tried getting a court involved, but he was considered his legal guardian and without any significant proof there was nothing they could do. So I tried to do what I could. Over time I noticed a change in Yoongi. He was sadder, seemed more down on himself. I rarely ever saw that smile that used to melt my heart. He was having a hard time at school. The friends he had stopped hanging out with him. Then one day when he was around thirteen he said something back to his stepdad and his stepdad beat him so badly the neighbors ended up calling the police because of the noise.”

She stopped to take a shaky breath. Tears forming in her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that you had started biting your bottom lip trying to stop your own tears from falling until the subtle taste of blood hit your tongue.

Once again she continued, “Thankfully his stepfather was arrested that night and eventually sentenced to forty five years in prison, but it was already too late and the damage was done. When I got to the hospital that night they started showing me different x-rays and scans and going over Yoongi’s injuries. It was worse than I had ever thought. There were old fractures that hadn’t healed correctly. Scars both fresh and old covered his body from where his stepfather would beat him with a tree branch or use his skin to put out his cigarettes. He had torn his shoulder at one point and because it was never properly taken care of he’s always in pain, even to this day. He had surgery to correct it, but it only helped a little. I cried in the hospital. He was released after a week and came to live here with me. I was taking him to therapy a couple times a week and he seemed to be getting on the right track. He was smiling more and getting a little more talkative. I had enrolled him in the high school here and he made a couple friends. I knew there’d always be a part of him that struggled, but I thought that maybe he was going to be able to move past all of this for the most part and go on to have a happy healthy life. When he was in his second to last year of high school there was going to be a big dance and after some convincing he asked a girl to go with him as a date and she said yes. So I got him a brand new suit and the day of the dance we went and picked out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I offered to drive him, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed by his grandma driving him around, you know how teenagers are. So I watched him walk out the door.”

Mae took a moment to composer herself by staring out the kitchen window. You in no way wanted to rush her.

She took another sip and then went on, “I was in the kitchen a little while later when I heard the front door swing open and slam back shut. I thought it was much too early for Yoongi to be home already and assumed it must be some guests so I cleaned myself up real quick and walked out to greet them, but instead…instead I found Yoongi with tears streaming down his cheeks and then I noticed his suit was covered in brightly colored paint. He still had the bouquet of flowers in his hand except they were now all damaged and dirty. He refused to tell me what happened and ran off to his room. Monday morning I went to the school and apparently the girl and some of her friends, including her actual date, were all waiting for Yoongi to show up at the school. When he got there they all poured cans of paint onto him and called him a freak and a monster. I was told that one of the other boys saw Yoongi’s scars when they were changing for gym class and started making fun of him for it. This girl had no intention of actually going to the dance with him and told him he was ugly and would never be loved because of the way he looked. I tried to have all of those kids reprimanded, but Yoongi refused to cooperate so the school said their hands were tied. He begged me to take him out of school and homeschool him instead which I did, but he’s been pretty much to himself ever since.”

By this point you were full on balling your eyes out. You hadn’t known him for very long, but you could just tell that he was such a sweet gentle person. You didn’t think there could possibly be any thing else that Mae could tell you, but she cleared her throat and went on,

“Honestly, I think the worst thing that ever happened to him was the letter he received from his biological father on his twenty first birthday. I actually still have the letter. I’ve been holding onto it because I think it would be beneficial for Yoongi to be the one to destroy it, but I don’t know how to bring it up to him.”

She slid the letter across the table to you. Shakily you opened it up and immediately noticed the tear smudged ink and you took a deep breath trying to compose yourself before diving in,

“To Yoongi,

You most likely have no idea who I am, but I am your biological father. I left not long after you were born and if my calculations are correct you should be twenty one years old today. You were born early, somehow I’m certain that was your mothers fault even though the doctors said it was not. Anyways, you were born very small and sick. The doctors did not know if you would make it and to be honest I spent most of the time hoping that you wouldn’t. I did not want the burden of having a son, especially a first born, that was weak and useless. I gave your mother an ultimatum, either abandon you and we will move on and have a child that will prosper and do well in life or she can keep you and I will leave. Obviously you see what she chose. I heard that your mother has passed away since then. She was an ignorant woman anyways, wasting her time with a child like you. I told her that you weren’t worth the time which has been proven by the fact that you still live with your grandmother working at that stupid inn. You’ll never be anything more than that. I don’t really know the point of this letter any more. I guess I’m just a little drunk and wanted to get this off my chest after all of these years. Yoongi, I do wish you well. Truly I do because I know deep down that you’ll never achieve it. With regret, Your Father.”

You don’t know at what point you went from crying to blood boiling anger, but it happened.

“What the actual fuck!”, you shouted slamming the letter down on the table. “Sorry, excuse my language.”, you said towards Mae suddenly feeling bad about your outburst. She chuckled, “Don’t worry dear. I said much much worse when I read that letter.”

You continued, “Seriously? Who does something like that? And to their own child on top of it? You walked out of his life let him be. That letter was completely unnecessary. I swear I’m gonna hunt him down and kill him myself.”

Mae shook her head, “No need Y/N. After he dropped the letter off at the post office he drunkingly crashed his car into a tree. Killed him instantly. Unfortunately though, Yoongi never really recovered from this letter. He’s been very reserved and depressed ever since. He’s refused therapy or any help that I offer. I’ve tried for many years to get him to make friends or find a partner or just get out of the house and experience life. I won’t be here forever and I want him to find someone and just be happy for the rest of his time.”

While you would normally never wish harm on anyone it did bring you some joy knowing that his father was no longer around and could never hurt Yoongi again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to drop all of this on you, but I thought you should get an explanation for what you saw earlier and why he is the way that he is. Yoongi can be kind of jumpy around loud noises and sudden movements and things like that. Please don’t run away from him. I’ve seen him smile more in the week you’ve been here than he has in months. He just sees something in you. I can tell. Call it grandmas intuition if you will. I know you’ll soon have to go back home, but I’m really hoping that maybe you’ll keep in touch with him. No pressure of course. I wouldn’t blame you for not doing it, but I just really think you could be a big positive in his life.”, she said before walking her mug over to the sink.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I’m sure it was difficult to recount everything.”, you said almost in a whisper. She smiled before laying a hand on your shoulder, “Get some rest Y/N. I’m gonna head off to bed myself. These old bones are tired.”

As you laid in bed you could still hear the faint rumblings of thunder from miles away. You wondered what Yoongi was doing. You hoped he was peacefully sleeping in his bed, but you knew most like that wasn’t the case. It pained your heart to think about what he’d been through. No one deserved to ever have those things happen to them and you decided in that moment that you were going to try and help him. You yourself felt the connection that Mae keeps talking about and you were starting think that maybe things do happen for a reason.

The following morning when you woke up your body felt sore from the stress you experienced. Your first reaction was to go and find Yoongi, but you also knew that he was most likely going to feel embarrassed about what had happened the night before so you opted to take a seat at the desk and try to get some work done. After about an hour and only a couple paragraphs written the smell of bacon started to fill the air and the sound of your stomach grumbling in hunger followed not long after. In the kitchen you found Mae at the stove tending to the bacon. “Would you like some coffee Y/N?”, she smiled. You nodded happily taking the cup from her. Yoongi was already sitting at the table peeling some carrots and potatoes for what you assumed would become part of dinner later. You tried your best to act causally as you took a seat a chair away from him to give him some space.

Mae walked over and set a plate of eggs down in the middle of the table along with the bacon. After Yoongi cleared the vegetables that he was working on the three of you began eating your breakfast.

Mae peaked over at you and with a sly grin she began, “Y/N, thank you for bringing that strawberry pie from Taehyung’s last night. I already snuck a piece as I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh you’re very welcome. It did look delicious.”, you replied waiting to see where she was going with this.

“I’m going to make them a big pot of pork stew. It’ll be a good hearty meal for them while they work on the farm. I was thinking that maybe you and Yoongi could take it over to them when it’s finished.”

Now you get it. It was an easy yes for you. You really did like all of the boys from the farm and it would be a chance to spend a little time with Yoongi, but you couldn’t help but notice how red his cheeks had gotten once again and his shoulders visibly tensed. You weren’t going to force him by any means.

“Uh yeah sure that’s no problem for me. I can go alone though if Yoongi doesn’t want to go.”

“Yoongi would you be okay taking some stuff over to the farm with Y/N? For me please.”, Mae asked placing her hand on top of his.

“Okay.”, he whispered with his eyes focused on his lap.

A few hours later your little cart was packed up with a large pot of the stew and some fresh bread and jam. You and Yoongi headed off towards the farm. The first half of the walk was silent other than a few birds or rustle of leaves here or there.

“I’m sorry about last night. If I had known it was going to storm I would’ve stayed in my room to not disturb you.”, he spoke startling you out of your thoughts.

“Yoongi you don’t have to be sorry. And please don’t ever hide who you are from anyone. If they can’t handle who you are then they don’t deserve you in their life.”

He nodded in understanding pulling on his ear. A nervous habit of his. Feeling a little brave you reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze. He jumped slightly, but for a few seconds he let you hold him before removing his touch from yours. You were going to take that as a win.

Entering the strawberry farm you were quickly greeted by Jin and Namjoon. “Hi Y/N, didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”, Jin smiled.

“Mae wanted us to bring over some stew and bread as a thank you for the pie.”, you responded handing over the items from the cart. Jungkook appears out of nowhere excitedly grabbing the bread and jam from you.

“Jeeze I haven’t seen this kid all day, but as soon as food is involved he magically appears.”, Jin rolled his eyes. Taehyung came walking over after noticing your arrival. He wrapped you in a big hug and began making small talk. You could feel Yoongi’s presence behind you. He was almost using your body to shield himself away from everyone.

Taehyung gestured for you to follow him, “Y/N and Yoongi come on into the bakery. We’ve got a new strawberry milk latte we just put on the menu and I want your opinion. Personally I think it’s wayyyy too sweet, but Jin thinks it could be award winning.”

Jin scoffed, “You don’t even like coffee so your opinion means nothing.”

“I think it’s amazing.”, Jungkook added.

“You’d drink lake water and say it was good if we put a flavored milk in it.”, Namjoon quipped.

Chuckling at the argument going on infront of you it took about twelve steps before you realized your shadow was not behind you. When you turned you saw Yoongi was already walking back towards the path to the inn. Namjoon came up behind you and gave you a nudge in Yoongi’s direction and you knew what he meant. Jogging up next to him you reached for his arm, but opted not to as you’d quickly learned touch is not his first choice.

“Hey where are you going? Come hang out with us at the bakery.”, you said once you caught up to him.

He simply shook his head and kept walking.

“They’re really nice guys. They were asking about you yesterday. I think you’d really like them if you gave them a chance.”

Still he continued walking in silence. Without thinking you reached out to grab his arm just in an attempt to stop him, but he flinched.

“No. I just want to be left alone. Please.”, he whimpered near tears.

Instantly you backed off with your hands in the air to give him space and show that you weren’t going to touch him.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I won’t force you to hang out with them. I just wanted you to get to know them a little. I think it would be good for you.”

He ignored you and began walking back home again. You sent Taehyung a quick text apologizing for your sudden departure and letting him know you’d stop by on a different day to try the latte before you left. Yoongi walked surprisingly fast so you had to go back into a light jog to catch up. You decided to hang back a little and not walk right next to him so you weren’t suffocating him. You pretended not to notice him peeking back to look at you every once in a while.

As you walked you noticed a few cherry blossom trees just over a hill. You’d completely forgot about the trees and made yourself a mental note to go see them before you left Holly Falls. When you finally made it back to the inn Yoongi was waiting for you at the front door.

“You didn’t have to walk back with me. I’m an adult and I could walk back myself.”, he said with a pout.

“I know. I just wanted to come back with you.”

“But what about hanging out with them?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll go back another time. I’d rather hang out with you anyways.” His face instantly turned a deep shade of red.

“So tell me, what does Yoongi like to do in his spare time?”, you questioned.

“I’d rather just be alone to be honest.”

You wanted to push him harder, but you were concerned with what the outcome might be so instead you gave him a smile and watched as be walked inside letting the door close behind him. Dropping down to take a seat on the steps you let out a long sigh. This was going to be more difficult than you had imagined and to make matters worse you were only supposed to stay for another week.

“Excuse me miss, are there any rooms available?”, someone spoke making you to jump. Since your head was hanging you hadn’t noticed the young man walk up to the front door of the inn. You took in his appearance and noticed how exceptionally handsome he was.

“I just came from the main part of the town and there are no rooms available so it was suggested that I come over here.”, he continued.

“Oh um well I think there might be a couple rooms left, but I’m just a guest as well. If you head inside the check in desk is in the corner and they can help you out.”

The handsome man held out his hand for you, “Sorry I didn’t mean to assume anything. My name is Jimin by the way.”

You smiled graciously accepting his hand, “Y/N and no worries. Hopefully you can get a room. It would be nice to have another person around here to talk to and stuff.”

He chuckled, “Well I guess I better get in there then and see about a room.”

You gently leaned to the side to give home more space to get by before you returned back to wondering how you could get Yoongi to open up to you a little more without making him too uncomfortable.

After he had walked inside Yoongi took a deep breath and after a quick heated discussion with himself going over all the pros and cons he decided that giving you twenty minutes of his time to talk would be good for him and maybe over time he could work up the courage to actually spend time with you, maybe even like a date before you left. The thought of that made his head spin. Just as he was about to open the door to find you he heard your conversation with Jimin and how you said you were glad there was going to be someone else at the inn. He felt his heart crack at that. In Yoongi’s brain you were already done with him just like everyone else in his life, except his grandmother of course. He always managed to chase everyone away. He quickly accepted that he was a lost cause so he scurried off to be alone in his room before you or the new guest could see him. Once in his room he heard you introduce Jimin to Mae. Your voice sounded excited as you showed Jimin to his room just down the hall from yours.

Yoongi sat on his bed squeezing his favorite stuffed animal, a blue koala bear named Koya, a gift from his mother just before she had passed.

He heard you let out a loud laugh at something funny Jimin had said and he curled up on his bed feeling the tears start to fall.

He hated that he was like this. He wanted to be what he would consider normal, but there was this little part of his brain that always reminds him of what he’s been through and how many times he been told how unwanted and unloved he is. Even if he did manage to speak to you he’d never want to burden you with having someone like him in your life. He needs a lot of mental care and you don’t deserve to have someone that week. So he chose to lie in his bed squeezing his Koya a little closer every time he heard you laugh in the hallway wishing it was him that was making react like that instead. Your laugh was just as pretty as you are he thought. With each passing minute he could feel the panic setting in more and more and he eventually used the koala bear to muffle the sobs leaving his body not wanting to disturb you any further.

[kali-chaotic-neutral]

Advice

Pick a cat and get some much needed advice

This will include:

~Advice you might need ~Something you have to hear ~Insight on something

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Take what you resonate with, leave what you don't.

Please do not hesitate to suggest a few PAC reading topics as I am struggling with these type of posts.

Cat 1:

I feel as though you may be in a sort of identity crisis. Maybe you're going through a time of major change, and it is causing some crisis of sorts. You're worldview has been shaken and you're brain chemistry has been altered dramatically. Additionally, this could be some drastic change in your spirituality or maybe you're leaving a religion for another or just leaving religion entirely and being hounded by your community for doing so. I know it's stressful, I know you're probably extremely critical of yourself, picking and panicking over every little mistake you make. I want you to take a deep breath and know that this isn't the end of the world. Take the energy you use to criticise yourself to maybe journal, do some shadow work or gratitude journalling. You don't have to write paragraphs after paragraphs. Even one bullet point can make a difference. Let out your thoughts on paper so you don't end up blowing up on someone. and regretting it. Let it out, clear your head and do some damage control before evaluating what steps you have to take to get yourself out of this pit.

Try to reconnect with your inner child, let that child within you have their moment. Do something simple and childish, colour a book, draw. Do something you've always wanted to do, surround yourself with people you love and your friends, let them help you. Trust that those who care about you have your back. Do not let this temporary setback make you lose sight of what you want. This stressful and dark time you are going through is coming to an end. The only reason this moment seems endless to you, is because it is YOU that is unintentionally dragging this moment. Maybe you're stretching on an argument, or clinging onto a grudge, or just simply holding onto bad habits. You are hurting yourself at this point, and there is no one else to blame but yourself. Accept this pain, let go of this grudge or actually try to stop repeating bad habits. And it's not easy. I have a smoking habit myself, but I am taking steps. I haven't smoked for a month now and it has taken too many failed attempts for me to get here. Do not prolong this situation, because when you fall it will hurt even more. Try stepping out of your comfort zone, baby steps is perfectly fine. For me, getting out of my comfort zone meant wearing more form fitting outfits. I started with crop tops and a jacket over, then moved onto just crop tops and jeans. Then only recently have I gotten the confidence to get out of the house in flared leggings. Very simple, yet so effective in telling you: "Hey, it's okay. See, You're fine. You look so beautiful when you're confidently wearing what you want.". Everyone's journey is different, take your time, but taking the steps is what matters.

Cat 2:

There is someone (or was someone) in your life that absolutely changed your life for the best, someone that was there for you in your hardest time. You might be feeling a bit guilty in the sense that they are always there for you, that whatever you give them (or want to give them) seems inadequate, or maybe this person is not in your life anymore and you feel guilt for not expressing your gratitude while they were there. The guilt is weighing you down, and might be leading to insecurities as well. Just know that even a simple acknowledgement and thanks is a gift, while not the most extravagant, it does hold meaning. Open your heart, let them know how grateful you are. And if you struggle with this, a small simple, meaningful gift will always send the message. A gift is a gift, it's the thought that matters. Let this person know, that you appreciate them for more than the comfort they bring you. And if they aren't in your life anymore and it feels like it's too late, it can be as simple as a journal entry addressed to this person. Pour out your heart and write the letter as though you would send it to them if they were present. Or maybe you went through a rocky split up (romantic, platonic) and you want to reach out but you're unsure whether or not you should. Give it a shot. If the other person doesn't respond or responds very harshly, let it go. At least you tried. Or maybe things just fell apart. Me and a few of my high school friends went to different colleges and just stopped chatting with each other. And even now, it's so awkward to try and chat with them, but also so awkward to unfollow them.

Take some time off if you can, maybe during a special occasion. If you're celebrating something with this person, let it be more intimate. Maybe with close friends/family or even just you and this person. Make time for this person, like they do for you. Or maybe it's a day that reminds you of them, honour them by doing something they enjoyed. One thing my grandmother enjoyed doing when she was alive was travelling to sacred, religious places where I live. Every year, my family and I go to these places, pray for her and have fun because she would have wanted that for us. If you've had a split up with this person with so many unsaid things, reach out. Get your closure, clear the air of misunderstandings if there are. If it's with someone you've gradually lost touch with and the awkwardness has stopped you from reaching out. Don't. Reply to their story, send them messages or posts online. let them know that you want to rekindle the friendship. Let them know, that you are also wanting to have this relationship (platonic, romantic). I've said to try and rekindle the relationships/reach out so many times and here I am saying it again: MEND THE RELATIONSHIP!!! BUILD BACK THE FUCKING BRIDGE! Forgive them, but also most importantly, forgive YOURSELF!! It's normal being hard on yourself. This however, what you're saying/doing to yourself is not it bbg. You need love right now, sweet summer child, not criticism. Put your inner critic on the back seat, let your inner healer take control. Do some self care. Face masks, spa, massage, manicure/pedicure. Take care of yourself.

Cat 3:

You're in a crisis. You have conflicting emotions that are fluctuating so fast it's giving you whiplash. Maybe you're facing a choice where you have to leave what you have known. Maybe you're home for further studies or maybe you're planning on moving homes or cutting off contact with family or friends you've known for a long time. It's difficult, because you are potentially leaving what you've always known, what your comfortable with/or people who you've known for a long time. There will always be people who will not support your decision, especially if you're cutting off contact with close family members or friends who you used to always be with. This crisis/conflicting emotions are more so due to you not wanting to deal with criticism from people you've grown up with and less to do with whether you want to do it or not. Because you do. You know it is what you want, but the potential of people's reaction is what's stopping you. If you always walk on eggshells when making decisions, to appease the people around you, you won't make it far. Stop caring about the opinion of people who don't have your best interests at heart.

Maybe what you are pursuing (If it is further studies/a job) is something that you've always wanted to pursue but have been discouraged to do so because it: "Won't put a roof over your hear head and feed you". A creative job/study. Art, music, dance, literally anything that requires creativity. Don't let these people have you give up on your dreams and instead have you slave away at a stressful office job/"prestigious" job. Don't be afraid to splurge on yourself once in a while. Treat yourself to a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant, or buy yourself something you've always wanted. Or even simpler, take a self care day. Take your time bathing, put on a face mask, dress yourself up (even if it is just to go get groceries) If you want to see change, you must initiate it. Don't be a sheep that follows people around mindlessly, take control/the reins if you have to. Assert yourself. Let your opinions stand out, true and strong.

Cat 4:

You're stretching out something tense, maybe an argument, maybe something that really angered you. And i'm not saying that you're anger is not justified. It is, what's not justified is how you're dragging this out. Blowing this situation out of proportion, making a mountain out a molehill. You are getting on the defensive, feeling the strong urge to prove that you are correct or that you didn't do something (or perhaps did) But at this point you're arguing at the wall honey. Know when to stop your battles, get yourself in check before the universe slaps you in the face. The other party has already dropped out, not wanting to spend their time arguing an age old issue. Come to terms with what happened, and try to calmly speak your mind. If you can't, journal it. let it go.

This conflict has you shaken and feeling unsure. What I'm getting is to make sure you're not biased, make sure to listen to the other person's side as well. Just listen and make your decision then. Because if you make a decision right now, it will only be more chaotic. Don't make a decision yet, wait, give yourself some space to clear your head because you're mind is not in the right space to make important decisions right now. Maybe this conflict is between you and a friend or a sibling/family member. I'm feeling that this conflict could be solved if you were to communicate, but there is such a clear lack of it that I am quite speechless. Talk things out, calmly and clearly, let them know how they hurt you and let them apologize/talk as well. Forgive if you can. Enforce boundaries with this person, maybe they overstepped despite your warnings and it was what caused this conflict. Remember, forgiving is good but it's not necessary to heal. If this person has been constantly overstepping your boundaries, firmly set them and cut off contact if you must. Or just be very firm and strict with your boundaries, you might have a habit of caving in to this person walking all over you. Not anymore.

[yyuangss]

MY DEAR BELOVED ( KAEYA ALBERICH )

❝Letters by an unknown sender arrive at your office desk daily. The Cavalry Captain suggests you figure out who is the one behind the pen.❞

❝𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5.5K!

note: if you read this first on @lovely-josuke, yes you did. i’m just passing it from over there to here. that’s me 🫡

“Oh? What do we have here?” Kaeya closes the door to your office behind him. “Yet again another letter?” He recognizes the familiar white envelope. You had it in your hands while reading the letter that was inside it. You don’t look up from the letter and only nod. Kaeya finally reaches your desk and leans against it with his arms crossed.

“Found it this morning. I finally had time to read it.” You said.

“What did our friend say this time?” Kaeya asks, trying to read the letter alongside you but not having a good angle to make out the words. “He hasn’t run out of things to say, especially after five months of daily letters.”

Five months ago, a letter found its way into your office with all the other mail you got. It wasn’t signed by anyone and didn’t leave a hint either. You opened it to read it and found it to be a love letter. However, with no name on it, you asked around the headquarters to see if anyone saw who dropped it off. Unfortunately, no one did. The letters continued to come in and no sender could be found. Kaeya suggested trying to figure out who was sending them but you had a lot of work piling up to take a break over this.

“That he’s grateful for everything I do in Mondstadt. And he’s very sorry he’s too afraid to step forward but one day he’ll eventually get the confidence.” You finished the last sentence and handed it over to Kaeya. He uncrosses his arms to grab it and begin reading. The male pushes himself off your desk, slowly pacing back and forth in the room while reading it out loud.

“My dear beloved. I appreciate the work you do in order to keep us safe as much as I appreciate your entire being.” Kaeya stops all of a sudden and finishes the letter in silence. “You need to figure out who this guy is. Come now. You mean to tell me in five months you haven’t had a day off to find out the sender?” Kaeya places both of his hands on your desk. You scratch your head, unsure about it. Kaeya raises his eyebrow. You sigh, pushing your chair back and standing up to stretch.

“Trust me, I have. But every time I try to think, there’s no one that comes to mind.” You tap your finger on the stack of papers sitting on the desk. “And work hasn’t been so kind to me lately.” Kaeya’s eye travels down and he chuckles.

“Alright alright.” He holds his hands up in defense. “Point taken. There are many possibilities. I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Kaeya glances at the letter still in his hand and back at you who started shuffling papers into a neat pile.

“If you want to get a lead on it, be my guest.” You set the stack aside and grab another one, flipping through the pages.

“In that case. Do you mind if I take this with me?” Kaeya raises the letter up. “I’ll bring it back. I know you like to keep them.” You agree, giving permission for Kaeya to do as he likes.

He’s gone but not before letting you know he’d be in the library in case you need him. You decide to finish up the current stack and then you’d go see what Kaeya was up to. It would also give you the opportunity to check out a new book. You make your way to the library and there’s Kaeya sitting at one of the many tables.

Kaeya’s materials are laying on the table. He has your letter, a separate sheet of paper which he currently writes on, and a pen in hand. Kaeya seems to be reading the letter and writes down a couple notes. You head for the stairs, careful to not disrupt him.

“What are you working on?” You hover over his shoulder to get a glance. He stops writing,

“I’m coming up with a list of who it could be.” Kaeya answers and taps the end of the pen on the paper. You look at the list Kaeya came up with. In the first bullet, Kaeya wrote Timaeus. He was followed up by Diluc in the second bullet. The list had a huge range of different names. In total, he had six names written down. “Think of me as your partner.”

“I’m sorry. Diluc and Liyue?” You pointed to where Kaeya had written Liyue under Albedo’s name. “Liyue is an entire region if you didn’t know.”

“No no.” Kaeya starts, “I always forget his name. The guy we met in Liyue. He was part of the Fatui and was around the guy with the Geo vision.” You scoff and pull out the chair next to him to sit down.

“Childe? That literally makes no sense.” You said, “It’s obvious he lives in Mondstadt. Especially after today’s letter. Childe’s located in Liyue which wouldn’t make sense if he’s thanking me for all the work I do. He probably doesn’t even know I have a Pyro vision.”

“A carrier pigeon can get a letter here in roughly ten hours give or take.” Kaeya counts on his fingers. “Whereas on foot, it would be a day trip. That’s only if there are no complications along the way.”

“You said it yourself. Day trip without any complications. Which means, the way back is a day trip too.” You counter, “And doesn’t sound like you’re including rest stops either. Keeping up that routine for five months? I think I’d rather confess.” Kaeya lets out a laugh.

“You caught me. I just wanted to have an excuse to go to Liyue with you again.” Kaeya strikes through ‘Liyue’, leaving the list to only five people now. “Never fail to live up to your title, strategist.”

“All you had to do was tell me you wanted to visit Liyue again.” You lean your head into your hand with a smile. Kaeya copies your action in a teasing manner.

“There’s a lot of things I would like to tell you.” Kaeya then slides the list over to your side of the table. “As for Diluc, don’t you agree that the words used in all the letters are part of his normal vocabulary?” He was right on that part. The words did come off as professional and sophisticated. You pick up the list.

“I’ll give you that one.” You said, checking the list for a second time. “I highly doubt it’s Diluc though. We get along well to a certain extent.”

“I put Timaeus first because he said you were his favorite knight.” Kaeya points to the top. “And what has the sender expressed multiple times? You are his favorite knight. It makes Timaeus the top suspect.” You check the rest of the list. Bennett, Venti, and Albedo were the remaining names. All better leads than what you could come up with.

“Get off work yet?” You asked Kaeya, tearing your gaze away from the list. “We can start going down the list today.” Kaeya stands up from his chair, extending his hand out to you.

“I was never on for today.” He says once you take his hand. You and Kaeya say your goodbyes to a group of knights at the door. Kaeya continues to give his reasons for the rest of the people on the list.

He added Albedo since he invited you to dinner once. Although you’d told him nothing romantic happened, Kaeya said, ‘Maybe not for you’. Bennett was on the list because he said your position as the strategist was amazing.

Now in the city, you find Timaeus at Good Hunter, ordering food. He’s the first in line and once he’s done, starts walking back to the crafting stand. He begins fixing up his shelf of books.

“Let’s go up to him now. That way once his food is ready, we won’t be bothering him.” You begin walking over to Timaeus, Kaeya right behind you. “Timaeus, how are you?” He slides a book back in the correct spot.

“I wasn’t expecting to be visited by you two today.” Timaeus greets you and Kaeya. He picks up one of the books near the crafting table. “How can I be of assistance?” Kaeya hands him your daily love letter.

“Mind reading this for us?” Kaeya asks, “We’ll be on our way once you’re done.” Timaeus skims the letter and agrees.

“My dear beloved. I appreciate the work you do in order to keep us safe as much as I appreciate your entire being.” Timaeus is careful to not mess up as he reads. You aren’t feeling much of a reaction as he finishes up reading the letter. His composure is still the same and didn’t chance in the slightest.

You look at Kaeya and shake your head. He mentally marks off Timaeus from the list and takes the letter back.

“Thanks for your time. We’ll be leaving now.” You and Kaeya leave a puzzled Timaeus alone. Not having much to worry about, he goes back to fixing his bookshelf. “I think he’s a normal fan with a normal appreciation of me.” You tell Kaeya once you two are a distance away from Timaeus. Kaeya throws his arm around your shoulder and brings out the list. He opens it with his free hand.

“Then our next trip is to Angel’s Share.” Kaeya says, “Let’s see if Diluc’s still there.”

“What do you two want?” Diluc doesn’t seem pleased that Kaeya is his guest for the day. Kaeya outstretched his arms,

“Is that any way to greet us? Especially the lengths we came to see you?” Diluc exhales. “We only wanted to ask you to do a simple favor for us.”

Charles told you and Kaeya that Diluc had gone back to the Dawn Winery. Venti was there performing so you thought it was a good idea to stay until he was finished. Not that it helped since Venti ended up refusing to read the letter. He claimed that he would confess his love through a song given the chance.

“Depends on what the so-called, simple, favor is.” Diluc narrows his eyes. “Unlike the other simple favor you asked me for.” Kaeya waves his hand around.

“Nothing like that.” Kaeya walks up to the red haired man with the letter, “(Y/N) and I need you to read this.” Diluc glances at it before snatching the paper from his hand. He runs through it briefly and gives you both a confused look. Kaeya sends him a nod and tells him to start reading. Diluc shakes his head and clears out his throat.

“My dear beloved. I appreciate the work you do in order to keep us safe as much as I appreciate your entire being.” Diluc said, irritation laced in the tone of his voice. Kaeya stops him mid sentence.

“Ah ah ah.” He waves a finger in a no motion. Diluc glares at him. “Pretend she and I aren’t here.” Kaeya returns to his position beside you, placing both of his hands on his hips. Diluc grits his teeth, but goes along with what Kaeya requested.

“My dear beloved. I appreciate the work you do in order to keep us safe as much as I appreciate your entire being.” Diluc’s tone changes, “You are one of the most hard working knights and should be noticed more. If no one has thanked you yet, then I shall be the first to do it. Keep my words close to you, please. As one day, I wish I could tell you this in person. But that will happen once I gain the confidence to step forward. Happy now?” Diluc extends the letter out. Kaeya smirks and begins slow clapping.

“My oh my. So touching. Wouldn’t you agree?” Kaeya nods at you. “If it weren’t for his monotonous voice, I’d’ve said we had our man.”

“What exactly are you talking about?” Diluc asks.

“Someone has been sending me these letters.” You answer Diluc’s question. Diluc skims the handwriting on the sheet of paper one more time. He narrows his eyes at Kaeya who in return raises his brow. “I’m trying to figure out who it is. Kaeya made a list of suspects and we’re just going down the list. By the way you’re acting, it’s most likely not you either.” You reach for the letter. Diluc allows you to take it back and proceeds to head for the stairs.

“Well. I wish you luck in finding your admirer.” He stops on the second step while holding the railing. “Who knows? Perhaps it’ll be someone rather close to you.” His gaze travels to Kaeya for a quick moment. Kaeya has a finger pressed against his lips. Diluc continues to ascend up the stairs and disappears into one of the rooms.

“That went better than expected.” Kaeya breaks the silence. “Your thoughts?”

“Stop bothering him.” You roll your eyes at him and turn on your heel to leave. Kaeya bursts into laughter, “You knew what you were doing. Poor man wants to make his wine in peace.” Kaeya jogs after you, the servants at the front door escorting you out.

“I’m doing my job. Is it my fault he doesn’t want to cooperate?” Kaeya places a hand on his chest. “Besides, you say it’s not him. What if he was hiding his emotions well enough that the strategist couldn’t see through it.”

“Diluc and Timaeus both acted the same they usually do when they read the letter.” You say goodbye to whoever is nearby. “Even if their voice wavered the slightest bit, I would have picked up on it. But no. They had no idea what they were reading and it was obvious.”

“Next on our list is Bennett. Shall we go find him?” Kaeya folds the paper once again and it goes back in his pocket. You see the sky’s beginning to change colors. The trip to Dawn Winery was longer than expected.

“No. It’s fine. I have work to finish.” You say. “And plus, I wasted your time with Timaeus and Diluc. You most likely have better things to do.”

“I don’t. Like I said, I was never on for today.” Kaeya places his hands on the back of his head, “I only came to see you… And what our friend wrote. Want me to go interrogate Bennett for you instead? I’ll be nice.”

“That’s okay.” You pat his back, “I’m grateful you’re trying to help. I’ll pick this up again once I’m not busy. And I’ll feel much better knowing I’m not taking up your time with dead ends.”

You and Kaeya part ways once you’re back in the city. You completely forget about having to visit Bennett and Albedo for the week. And the letters weren’t leaving any time soon. Kaeya joined in every morning to read the recent ones while coming up with his own theories.

A knock resonates through your office and you raise your head. Lisa stands at the door and waves her hand once you see her.

“I knew you’d still be here.” She smiles and leans on the doorway. “Jean and I are going to get something to eat. Want to join us?”

“Is it lunchtime already?!” You say in a panicked tone. You’re checking the time while Lisa tuts in return. “Time went by so fast. I’ve been working all morning, I completely forgot.”

“I think that’s a sign.” Lisa tilts her head to the side, “Let’s go. It’ll be on me.”

“I’m almost done. You go ahead and I’ll catch up!” You want to finish the sentence you’re on.

“Oh no.” Lisa marches over to your desk and snatches the pen out of your hand. She closes the cap, “Jean said the same thing. I will be getting one of you out of here.” She pulls at your wrist and you willingly let her. No one in all of Teyvat could convince you to argue with Lisa.

“But,” You sigh in defeat and Lisa drags you alongside of her. “You’re lucky I’m scared of you.” She chuckles and taps the end of your pen against your cheek.

“Even if you weren’t, you still wouldn’t be able to say no.” You and Lisa leave the headquarters for Good Hunter. Halfway to your destination, Jean came running after you both. She said she’d put the work aside for now as the lunch break was necessary.

Once arriving, compared to when you and Kaeya came looking for Timaeus, there was no waiting line. In fact, the only person currently at Good Hunter was Bennett. He sat at one of the tables writing something. And your mind instantly thought of the letters. Bennett and Albedo were the remaining you hadn’t talked to yet.

Lisa gets her small purse ready for when she needs to pay. She sparks up a conversation with Sarah on how the day has been. Meanwhile, Jean takes a seat at one of the tables to keep it reserved. You take the initiative and decide to talk to Bennett. Maybe you’d catch him in the act of writing another letter if it truly is him.

“Bennett, how are you?” You approach his table. He returns your greeting with a smile and tells you he was doing great. “What are you writing?” You take a peek. Before Bennett can answer, the tip of his pen pops. In result it leaves a large ink splotch that ruins the entire sheet.

“Aw man.” Bennett groans, “Now I have to start all over again.” He removes the paper to reveal a couple other sheets under the first. He reaches into a small bag on the table and pulls out another pen. You can see Fischl’s name on the messed up paper. Soon an idea comes to you.

You pick the paper up and furrow your eyebrows as you read. The words Bennett wrote were not only the same as Ficshl’s daily vocabulary, but the handwriting was somewhat comparable to the ones of your confession letters. Not all the way, just partially. Some of the strokes of Bennett’s letters were very similar. Could they have been modified?

“I was writing a letter to Fischl.” Bennett breaks your train of thought. “I’m leaving on an expedition. I wanted to give this to Katheryne by the end of the day. But you know me and bad luck. That’s the sixth one I mess up.” His words go in one ear and go out the other.

“Handwriting. Why didn’t I think of this before?” You said which leaves Bennett confused. Suddenly, you take off running but come to a quick halt. “Do you mind if I keep this?” You wave the ruined letter in the air at Bennett. The action caught Lisa’s attention.

“Sure?” Bennett shrugs.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Lisa cuts her conversation with Sarah. She sounds and looks angry. You point at her.

“Jade parcels. I will be right back! If I’m not, you can hang me upside down from the Statue at Windrise.” And you’re gone in the direction of Angel’s Share. First to see Diluc. Right after, you’d rush back to the headquarters to see if Sucrose is still around.

Sucrose passed on the word to Albedo that you needed his handwriting. Specifically all the letters of the alphabet written in uppercase and lowercase. When Sucrose came back, she said he told her he’d have it ready and you were free to come pick it up whenever.

“I swear, now I remember how much I hate this place.” Albedo’s head whips over to you. You’re shivering under the layers of jackets you wore for the short trip. “My vision didn’t help keep me warm.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should have gone to you instead.” Albedo brings you close to the small fire. You rub your hands together over the fire. “You know, this is the second time someone asks for my handwriting.” Albedo finds the scrap sheet of paper where he wrote all the letters of the alphabet under the book he was reading.

“There’s no way someone else asked you for the same thing.” You accept the paper from him. His handwriting is just as neat as Diluc’s. You flip the sheet of paper where he wrote the lowercase letters on the back.

“Yes. Kaeya beat you to it.” You scrunch up your nose. Kaeya asked Albedo for his handwriting before?

“What do you mean?” Albedo tilts his head to the side.

“Kaeya. He asked me for the same thing. I’d say, about five months ago?” Your eyes widen for a split second. “Is everything okay?” Albedo asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Did he say what for?” And Albedo shakes his head.

“It looked like he didn’t want to tell me.” Albedo drops his hand. “I’m assuming this is for him too. Did he misplace the first sheet I gave him?”

A new piece of information that changes a lot of things. To anyone it might seem useless, and it might have been useless to you also had Albedo not mentioned the time span. You sigh and place your hand on your forehead. The touch is still cold, reminding you of your surroundings.

“I’ll be honest with you Albedo.” He puts a bookmark between the pages he was reading before you got here. Albedo shuts the book, paying close attention to every detail that comes from your mouth. “I have been getting these love letters for the past few months. No clue on who it is whatsoever. Kaeya has read them since the beginning and told me to figure out who it is.”

Albedo nods, allowing you to continue speaking.

“I agreed because he would be helping me. He came up with a list of people.” You point at Albedo, “You’re one of them. Hence, why I asked you for this. Originally we were asking them to read it. But anyone can hide their emotions if they're good enough. Handwriting on the other hand. Not something you can fake easily.”

You finish telling him your dilema and he takes in a while to process what you’ve told him.

“Does Kaeya know about you asking me for that?” He asks and you say no.

“I told him it was fine and he could stop helping me. I would try to figure it out on my own.” You add. Albedo crosses his arms.

“Let me take Kaeya’s place for now and add someone to that list.” Albedo says, “Have you thought that perhaps, Kaeya is the one sending the letters?”

“No. It can’t be. I mean, why would he drag me around Mondstadt asking a bunch of other people if they’re my secret admirer?” You respond, thinking back to Kaeya’s actions from this past week. A smile forms on Albedo’s face.

“In my opinion, that sounds like something he would do. Besides strategist, the dates do add up. Kaeya asked me five months ago my handwriting,” Albedo raises his left hand and then raises his right, “You got your first letter five months ago. Don’t you at least think that something worth looking into?”

He does have a point. Though, why pretend what you’re trying to confess is made by another? Is admitting he likes you too much for Kaeya?

“Like you said, handwriting is not something you can fake easily.” Albedo turns his back and reopens the book, “It will always reveal the truth.” Albedo wished you a safe trip back to Mondstadt. The Sun had already settled by the time you got back and the Moon was high in the sky.

The idea of Kaeya being your admirer wasn’t leaving your mind anytime soon. It’s just going to have to be another restless night until you get to the bottom of this. Two knights sound outside the doors of the headquarters and allow you entry once they see you. You go up the stairs and to your office where all your notes from last night were at.

Last night you stayed behind comparing Diluc and Bennett’s handwriting to the ones of the letters. Only to come and find out there were several. You easily recognized Jean’s in the mix. Diluc, Bennett, and even Barbara’s handwriting, were all crafted perfectly into your love notes. You’ll give your admirer the credit of being one step ahead of you.

You open the first drawer, revealing the stack of notes you kept safe. Along with the notes, you chose one letter from each of the five months. With Albedo now giving you his handwriting, you had almost everyone on the list and a few who weren’t.

You came back down the stairs and opened the door to the library. The lights and candles were still on. You sat at one of the library tables on the second floor. Separating the notes in an orderly manner, you began examining Albedo’s handwriting.

Albedo’s writing had been in the letters since the first one. His seemed to be the base writing. Of course, modified just like the rest of the handwritings used. Whereas Diluc’s handwriting hadn’t been added until the third month. The same went for Bennett. Each letter from the alphabet had a different stroke, different style, and matching one of the many people Kaeya added as a suspect.

On the list of your notes you wrote down who your admirer used for each letter. Albedo was primarily used for the letters A and H. Diluc was used for the letters D and I. You continued until all the letters of the alphabet had one corresponding person.

All but one letter.

The letter K didn’t match anyone. Out of ten people on the list, not a single person. You grabbed the letter and walked over to the checkout list for books Lisa had. You began flipping through past dates until landing on one page. Right under your name where you checked out a book series was your accompanying friend. He agreed that day to check out the same book series as you.

In black ink and perfectly matching the K on every letter for the past five months.

Kaeya Alberich.

“And if it’s not him, that means he knows who it is.” You rest your elbows on the countertop. You’d just finished telling Diluc the trap you’d set up. Diluc is surprised how you’d managed to create such a smart trap. “So? Think it’ll work?”

After concluding Kaeya had to be the one writing the letters, you set up a trap for him to confess. The trap was writing back to the admirer. Last night in the library, you wrote in said letter that you wanted to meet him in person the next day. You’d chosen the time and the location of Angel’s Share. Once you were done. You hid the letter in the same spot your letters were delivered. In the morning, it was replaced with your daily letter.

Though the catch was that you didn’t tell Kaeya you wrote to the admirer nor told him about Angel’s Share. So if he came into Angel’s Share at the exact time, then there was no doubt Kaeya was the sender.

“You never fail to amaze me.” Diluc continues making a customer’s order. “Still, I can’t believe it took you this long to figure out.” You roll your eyes.

“And you knew?” He gives you a small smile.

“From the moment he made me read it. The K was a dead giveaway.” Now the look he gave Kaeya was starting to make sense. “Either way, you should head upstairs. It’s almost time.” You check the clock hanging on the wall. Sure enough the time you wrote on the letter was approaching fast. You slid off the stool, taking your drink with you and went up the stairs of Angel’s Share to the second floor.

It was empty with a few jugs sitting on some tables. You sat down and sigh. You had to be right on this. Diluc himself said it was Kaeya and Albedo was dead set on it being him too. The tavern door could be heard opening and shutting from the second floor.

“We meet again.” Kaeya’s voice resonates from the bottom. “Be a dear and make me a drink, will you?” Diluc scoffs, watching as Kaeya makes his way for what he was expecting. The stairs leading to the second floor.

Kaeya reaches the top step, clenching and releasing his hands once he sees you. He takes a deep breath and shows off the best confidence he can fake.

“The lady of the hour.” Kaeya says, catching your attention. Your heart pounds in your chest and you feel your stomach twist at the sight of Kaeya. He’s right on time, second floor, at Angel’s Share. Kaeya sits across from you at the table of your choice. He starts looking around to see the second floor empty. “Where is he?”

“Where is who?” You play along, feigning to be confused. You have to lure him in a little more.

“Our friend. Your secret admirer. Don’t tell me he doesn’t want to show up.” Kaeya says, “I specifically asked permission to leave early to meet him. You finally write back and he’s not here? All your hard work can’t go down the drain just like that.”

“Kaeya.” He hums in response. “How do you know I wrote a letter back to him?”

“Well, you told me about it of—” Kaeya trails off once realization hits him. You never told him you’d be meeting your admirer. You never told him it would be on the second floor of Angel’s Share. And the smile on your lips is the same one he loves to see once your plans are successful. “Course…”

“Checkmate.” You lace your hands together, placing them on the table. He drops his head, letting out a soft laugh. So you finally figured out it was him. No use in hiding it anymore.

“In what world could I outplay the strategist?” Kaeya grins, looking you in the eye again. “What gave it away?”

“Handwriting.” You begin to explain, “You were smart enough to add over ten different handwritings each time you wrote a letter. Your mistake was not taking away one. Your own. But Kaeya, you have a lot of nerve dragging me to Dawn Winery knowing it was you the entire time!” You lean over the table and pinch his cheek. He rubs his now sore cheek with a pout.

“How rude. I had to help you figure it out somehow.” Kaeya soothes his red cheek. “For your information, it has been five months and you weren’t making any sort of progress.” You collect your composure and sit back down.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You ask. “In five months you never got the courage?” Kaeya casted his gaze to the side. He was a little embarrassed. Putting up a front of a confident man when he was with you. In actuality, it disappeared the second you would say a word to him.

“All that confidence went flying in the Anemo archon’s wind—” A loud sneeze cut into the conversation. From below, Diluc says ‘bless you’ and Venti replies ‘thank you’. “When I tried to tell you. And then I did think you’d fallen in love with that scribe from the famous Sumeru Akademiya we met at headquarters.”

“We met Alhaitham once and haven’t heard from him since.” You press your lips in a thin line.

Kaeya still hasn’t looked at you. A silence falls and he begins tapping his fingers on the table, wondering what else he should say. The tapping grows consistently and you reach to hold onto his hand in order to make him stop. At the touch, Kaeya relaxes a little but his nerves are still there.

“Perhaps, I thought you wouldn’t accept the letters if you knew they were from me.” Kaeya mutters. “At least seeing you read and keep them was enough for me.”

“If you’d dropped a hint earlier, I would have accepted your feelings.” You day and that grabs his attention once again. Kaeya’s eye widens when the words you said registered, “I’m not going around accepting everyone’s invitations for a one week getaway to Liyue.”

Kaeya chuckles. The one week getaway where he admitted to himself he did have feelings for you. And prior to that, where you’d grown to see the Cavalry Captain in a romantic way.

“So it seems we had a bit of a miscommunication.” Kaeya now grasps your hand, “But I am glad we have it figured out.” He raises your hand to bring it up to his lips.

“Uh uh!” You snatch your hand away before he can kiss it. “That does not mean you’re out of trouble!”

You arrive at your office ready to fulfill another day’s work. As a daily routine, you checked all of the mail sitting on top of your desk. Carefully going through them one by one and discarding those that aren’t important, you come across the red wax sealed envelope.

That’s the one Kaeya used as his trademark for the letters he sent. You undo the seal and take the contents from the envelope out. Unfolding it slowly, it’s another letter like the others. It’s finally in his handwriting and Kaeya signed his name at the bottom.

“Our friend is still sending letters?” A gasp comes from the door. Kaeya stands there with a hand over his mouth, acting surprised. “When will he give up? Do tell me what he said to you this time.”

“You’ve been sending me these every day for five months.” You watch as Kaeya approaches you. “And you haven’t run out of things to say?” He lifts your head by your chin.

“Only a fool would run out of things to say to you.” Kaeya presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

[ravcns]

Champagne Problems

bruce wayne x fem!reader

summary: bruce wayne didn’t have the best track record when it came to love this time was no different

Billionaires did not take the train late at night, especially in Gotham of all cities. The car he was sitting in filled with people finally leaving their day jobs or on the way to a night one; all of them too out of it to notice the elite member of society among them. Sure once he was off and wormed his way through the swarms of people in the station maybe a few of them noticed, but nobody dared to say anything. Bruce looked forward to arriving home and seeing what everyone was getting up to, needing the distraction. He still didn’t know how he was going to explain to Alfred why he never called to be picked up. So he decided to keep it vague and just send a text letting the older man know he was on his way home.

Yes, you were very well aware of Bruce Wayne’s status and the rumors surrounding him. Just because you lived in Metropolis didn’t mean you lived under a rock. Maybe it was the fancy over the top dates, the way he always knew what to say in any situation, or the fact that his family was so welcoming. Everything was just so overwhelming and felt like it was all happening way too fast. Before you knew it on Fridays was family dinner; ‘family’ as in you being apart of it. There was the unspoken question ‘would you be here to stay?’ that lingered in the atmosphere. Jason and Dick would always try to be discreet and fail by asking different variations of the question where you saw yourself in a few years, Damian asked what your intentions with his father were and even a few times when you were out with him and your co-worker’s son blatantly would ask if you would be marrying Bruce, and the times Bruce tried to get Alfred to drive you places for errands which you politely declined each time. They were all very kind people but you didn’t need a personal driver for everyday errands and you weren’t stupid enough to tell the son of the man you were dating if you would end up marrying his father just yet.

“Are you sure that you don’t mind?” You questioned the man next to you once again, gathering your things. “Y/n, it’s fine go enjoy your date.” Clark said with a smile. “I would prefer to stay here. I don’t really enjoy over the top things.” You explained, picking up your purse. “It’s a pretty nice place I looked it up who knows something unexpected may happen.” He stated, grabbing the papers on your desk. “Why are you speaking like you know something I don’t?” You asked. “Hey I’m just saying.” He continued, “Now go you don’t wanna be late.” You laughed at his antics, “Okay Kent I’m leaving. Text me if you need any help.” Then you walked towards the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level. “Yeah, she’s leaving now.” Clark said into his phone as the elevator doors closed.

Looking back at you was a foreign person for a second you thought that the mirror was playing tricks on you. In your childhood and teenage years even today you would never be able to afford the luxury of randomly buying a dress over one grand or wearing fancy jewelry. You still had the first pair of diamond earrings your grandma gave you when you were fourteen. It still amazed you that in the eleven months of dating Bruce not once have the two of you been in the tabloids. No doubt that he had something to do with it though since you had mentioned how you never really liked too much attention, preferring to write articles rather than being the topic of them.

Bruce knew that you hated fancy dinners and preferred something casual but was it wrong to spoil his girlfriend every once in awhile, especially on a night like this one. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror, making sure his suit was crisp and his hair was well kept before leaving in the car with Alfred. During the two hour ride the weight of his mother’s ring in his pocket was heavy. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend his life with you, despite not being together for a long time. He would imagine sitting you down and explaining his secret identity to you and depending on your reaction maybe even begging you to stay because while he was Batman he would promise that no matter what you would always come first. Even though it was quite dangerous he kept a picture of you in both his wallet and in the batmobile on a keychain. Bruce liked to be reminded of you whenever whether it be while he was working at Wayne Enterprises or when he was out on patrol during the night.

Immediately your boyfriend greeted you with a kiss on you were in the backseat with him. You and Alfred said your hellos and you asked how the older man had been. He would crack a joke or two something along the lines of, “You know, Master Bruce has been real unbearable without you around. It’s almost like he’s back in highschool.” To which you would laugh and poke fun at the man seated next to you. While you had a great amount of love for Bruce this would also add to the brewing anxieties of the night that you did your best to hide. It didn’t seem that he caught on though because the smile that you adored so much was still displayed on his features. You leaned in and whispered to him, “You need to start smiling more it’s cute.” “I have been since you came around.” He responded back, matching your quiet tone.

You didn’t favor the idea of going out on an expensive date, however, you had to admit Bruce outdid himself with this one. It was candlelit but the dining room still had dim lights around, gorgeous pieces of artwork adorned the walls, multiple doors were open that led out to balconies like the one next to your table so you could view the fading colors of the sky, and there was even live music a few couples some old and some young were already up and dancing with one another in a different area. The dinner part of it went smoothly; the food was like nothing you ever had before, conversation always came easy between the both of you so no problem there, and the orchestra even played a version of a song you enjoyed at some point; that’s when Bruce led you to dance as ‘Enchanted’ had started. No matter what form the song was in you could recognize the instrumental in a heartbeat.

“I don’t suppose they usually play Taylor Swift songs.” You said as your hands rested on his shoulders. By now a piano had slowly joined in on the melody. “Maybe I pulled a few strings.” He joked. “That was cheesy but I’ll forgive you because this is amazing.” You responded. All the anxiety you had previously had washed away throughout the night. You were wrapped up in the moment when he spoke, “Y/n.” You made a sound of acknowledgment. “These past eleven months have been amazing with you and watching how you interact with my family I have realized something.” He stated. “What?” You asked him still very much caught up in the moment. “I don’t wanna sit here and not be honest. I am very well am aware that I have a reputation but that’s not me or what I want. What I want more than anything is to be with you.” His words slowly bought you back to your senses and what was happening sunk in. He continued, “I can’t speak for you but I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want go to get ice cream on 47th street, keep sitting on the hill at the park on Saturdays to watch the stars, go to your painting classes with you, and I want to wake up next to your everyday.” The brutal reality of his confession to you had hit the nail on the coffin, causing you to drop his hand and stop dancing. Your eyes darted around the balcony briefly before you spoke, “Bruce, I love you and you know that but-” He cut you off, “Please let me just.” He was reaching into his suit pocket now. You stopped him before he could. “That is a permanent commitment and while you are the most amazing thing that has happened to me and I love you I am not ready for that.”

It seemed he was really stunned by your words and got way too into his thoughts so you had to stop him. “I’m not saying it will never happen my love but give it time. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You said as you hugged him. “I have work in the morning and can tell you need some time to think. Also I refuse to let you pay for my meal after that I think it’s only fair.” He didn’t say anything back. “Look at me Bruce, I share your sentiment I do. We have so much time to figure this all out so let’s do it together, okay?” You said. He finally spoke, “Okay.” You shared a kiss and went to pay your half of the bill, cursing the fact that it was $180 but still swiping your card. Before you left you looked back and saw him crestfallen and not moving on the balcony. Against your better nature you didn’t move to comfort him though. Already you had said your piece and needed him to understand that.

It seemed that your luck had not lasted though because you woke up to a multitude of notifications on your phone; people requesting to follow your socials, family and friends demanding an explanation, your mother out of everyone seemed livid and insisted you call her, and a message from Clark apologizing with a link to something. When you opened the link the title taunted you. ‘Bullet Dodged: Gold Digger Declined Bruce Wayne’s Proposal?’ You scoffed at the idea and checked your notifications but noticed there were none from him or his family. Nobody even checked in which you hated to admit hurt. The comments were mainly slandering you, your job, looks, or background. Somehow these people wrote a mini biography on you. The only rational thing was to temporarily deactivate your social media first. Some of the comments on the article claimed Bruce deserved it for his ‘playboy persona’, but the man you knew was not like that. ‘She’s actually really pretty and would’ve been a lovely bride if she wasn’t as fucking stupid to not accept his proposal. I mean people there say he poured his heart out to her. Yikes.’ That comment stuck out in particular with over 678k likes.

You called up your Co-worker who immediately answered, “Y/n we are doing everything to get it taken down.” He informed you. “To hell with it, They want me to be the bad guy but leave out the part where I said that we have time to figure it out and should hold off for a bit.” You continued, “I hate to do this because it’s my job but I’m calling in sick today and I need you to email me copies of the joint article we have been working on. It’s not on my personal laptop here.” Clark obliged to your request and once again apologized. Once you were off the phone you did something you don’t usually do, going into the depths of your cabinet and grabbing a bottle of champagne. Day drinking was never your thing unless you were out the some friends but today you made an exception. All you could think of was the fact of how fucked the whole situation was as you drank straight from the bottle.

[sweetlittlegingy]

Deep In Her Heart, The Thunder Rolls

♤ Next Chapter | Blue Jeans Masterlist

♤ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Y/n "Tilly" Tillerson

♤ Word Count: 2.2 K

♤ Warnings: Fluff, Cuddly!Rhett, Horny!thots, Angst..

♤ A/n: It's just a blurb, a bit of setup for part 3...

♤ Library | Main Masterlist

To say that Rhett Abbott was sweet on you, was the understatement of the century. You left Wabang for college a year and a half ago, and though you “broke up,” the two of you remained faithful to one another.

I wasn’t that you had promised each other that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone else. No, you just could never find anyone that seemed better than Rhett. You were still in love with the man, and the fact that he came up to Bozeman at least once every 6 months, kept you more than satisfied.

The both of you had decided to keep your situation on a need-to-know bases, as in no one else needed to know. It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no it was more the fact that you were just both very private people, especially when it came to each other. Rhett had come up with an array of excuses to tell his family about why he was constantly going to Bosman.

From circuit business, to needing a new Stetson, to events, nothing was off the table when it came to seeing you. You thankfully had your own dorm room, meaning that no matter when Rhett showed up, he always had a place to stay. His appearances became so regular, that the dorm building security guard had come to know Rhett by name and would hold a conversation every time he visited.

Most of the time, Rhett’s visits ended with the two of you locked in your room for the whole weekend. Only ever coming out when you’d ordered food, or to go on the occasional date night. It wasn’t that you were to sex-crazed individuals, which you were, but the deep need that you both had to just be in each other’s presence was overwhelming.

You and Rhett were like a part of each other’s souls, as if at one point you’d been so deeply intertwined, that when you parted it was as if you could barely breathe. You had etched your mark on each other’s souls, and there would be no removing it.

…

Rhett was coming up for the weekend, and while you hadn’t seen him in two months, you talked every day. You had been working through your assignments, wanting to have everything finished and turned in before he showed up. The massive write-up for econ, had been time-consuming. The actual writing of the paper had been easy enough, though the hours you spent researching the economic downfall in the 1930s had been studious and mind-numbing.

You loved school, really, but between the tutoring and honor society, you were more than ready for a chill, relaxing weekend with Rhett.

Clicking submit on the paper, you glance at your phone, and two unread messages flash across the screen. One from Rhett stating that he was just pulling into the dorm parking, and the other from Daniel, a guy that you’d been “helping” in classes.

Hey T, did you finish up that chemistry assignment? It's due Sunday.

Alright, so maybe you weren’t just helping, but Daniel was a busy guy and paid you well for the work you did.

Yeah, I emailed it to you this morning, but my venmo isn’t working. I need cash.

You type out the message and hit send, throwing your phone back onto your bed as a knock sounds at your door. You're up and moving without a second thought for the outfit you're wearing, the booty shorts barely peeking out from under one of Rhett’s oversized hoodies. Your hair in a clear mess atop your head, barely being held up by the claw clip.

You pull open the door swiftly, only to find Rhett talking with your neighbor, the bitch. Every time Rhett was over, she made goo-goo eyes at him. Clearly trying to get in his pants, you’d think she would have gotten the message after hearing you scream Rhett’s name during every visit.

Rhett turns to you when you open the door, though your eyes are focused on Danica. Your hand grasps at the shirt Rhett is wearing, and tug him harshly into the room. Your eyes never leave Danica as she glares at you, a fake smile plastered on your lips before you rudely slam the door in her face.

“Tilly, that wasn’t very nice.” The teasing, yet cocky tone in his voice has you rolling your eyes.

“I don’t like sharing, Abbott.” Your voice clipped and harsh, as your eyes soften when looking up into his own.

One hand settles to rest on his abdomen, as the other wraps up around his neck. You deliver a harsh tug, pulling Rhett down and slotting your lips against one another. You can feel Rhett’s smile against your lips, his hands drop down around your waist, slip beneath the hoodie and tap your ass, signaling you to jump.

You waste no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, both arms curling around his neck. One slipped up to grasp the Stetson atop his head, pulling away from the kiss for a second and tossing the hat onto your desk. The idea of your lips being apart is clearly displeasing to Rhett. As one of his hands slips from underneath your ass, to grasp your cheeks in between his thumb and forefinger, pressing his lips back against yours.

Your lips work against each other, hot needy kisses pass between you. Your tongues work in tandem against each other, pushing and pulling in a network of want and passion. You don't even notice that the pair of you have moved until Rhett has you pressed against your mattress.

The pressure of his belt buckle against your cunt has you bucking your hips, and a wanton moan slips past your lips.

“Hold on, sugar.”

Rhett pulls away, his hand slips up to cradle you face, thumb brushing against your swollen bottom lip.

“Just let me look at you.”

Your face nuzzles into the palm of his hand, kissing it gently. The blue in Rhett’s eyes shines bright, and the small specks of green peek out from behind his iris. His stare makes you blush, it was always like he could see right into your soul. Moments like this were always more vulnerable than any other time, even in moments when you were naked and exposed.

“I missed you.”

The comment slips past your lips, so quiet and gentle. Though it causes Rhett to smile, before pressing a small against your lips. Foreheads resting against one another, the weight of his body settles against your own.

“I missed you, Til.” Noses bopping against each other, before Rhett is standing. Slipping the button-up off his shoulders, the clank of his buckle releasing sounds, as he pushes his pants to the floor. He motions towards you to sit up, his hands reach for the bottom of the hoodie, slipping it from your form.

“Think this is mine, darlin’.

“Did you bring me a new one? It doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

He laughs slightly at your question, reaching to tug your shorts off. Leaving the both of you in your underwear and pulling you to lay on his chest as you settle on the bed.

“Don’t I always?”

Your head nods against his chest, knowing that every time Rhett came up, he brought you a sweater that he’d been wearing. You told them that the smell of his aftershave had comforted you and had made you feel like you weren’t so far apart.

The warmth of his body seeps deep into your bones, and your eyes start to drift off. The stress of the week fades from your hold, as Rhett runs a single hand up and down your spine.

“Sleep Tilly.”

The last thing you remember is a soft kiss being placed against the crown of your head, both yours and Rhett’s breath settling out into a slow rhythm, encased by sleep.

…

The loud knocking at your door wakes you and Rhett up, stretching up to place a sweet kiss against Rhett’s lips, you slowly move from the bed. Though Rhett reaches out, holding on to your waist, as he whines into the crook of your neck. His breath tickles you and you can’t help but to giggle.

Your bubble is once again, popped as the knocking ensues again. Rhett finally releases you, so that you can pull on the hoodie and shorts. Glancing back over your shoulder you laugh at the sight, Rhett laid out on your bed, arms tucked behind his head, in nothing but his boxers. The sight makes your toes curl in want, your eyes racking up his form. To find a wide smile directed at you, his baby blues shimmering with mischief.

“Y/n, open the damn door.”

Daniel's voice has you moving again, grasping the handle of the door and ripping it wide open. Had you ripped it open so wide, in hopes that Danica would once again be lurking and see an almost naked Rhett spread out? Yes, though your hopes are dashed away when you see it’s only Daniel.

 “Hey D, come on in.”

His eyes move behind you, settling against Rhett who waves a hand slightly. Not moving an inch from his spot, clearly comfortable in his skin.

“Baby, this is Daniel.” You motion between the two, eye’s finding Daniel’s. “D, this is Rhett.”

Each of them exchanging pleasantries, though nothing more. You push off the door, where you had been leaning, and reach under your desk in search of the chemistry binder from last year.

You find the worn binder and toss it to Daniel, eyes tracing to see if you have anything else that might help him.

“That’s all my notes from Granger's class last year. More than enough to help you pass tests and I can finish out the papers. But I want extra for the final, I’m gonna have a packed schedule with just my work.”

Rhett silently watches you, his sweet girl is hard-assing this massive guy and making demands. He always liked it when you were bossy, he thought it made you look hot. That fire in your eyes, always set him a light.

Daniel slips two crisp hundred dollar bills in your palm and glances back to Rhett, who only smiles wider. You laugh at him, your eyes rolling, and then look back toward Daniel.

“That’s fine,” He shakes the binder at you slightly, with a grateful smile. “Thanks, for this too.”

You give him another smile, and move to open the door for him. Trying to be polite, but more than ready to be back in bed with Rhett.

“Alright, it was nice meeting you.” Another wave passes between the two men, then Daniel is out the door. Calling a ‘thanks again’ over his shoulder as he leaves.

You turn around on your heel, and a smile spreads across your face seeing Rhett in your bed. Before he has time to react, you’re moving for the cowboy, jumping up in his lap and snuggling up against his neck.

“Quiet the criminal, aren’t you?” his teasing tone has you laughing in his neck, arms, and legs wrapping around him like a koala.

“Daniel doesn’t have the time, and I like the extra cash.”

Rhett hums against the crown of your head, his arms wrapping around you in a tight grip.

“Long as you’re being careful, baby. Don’t think I missed the tattoos, I’m not stupid darin’.”

A heavy sigh is released from your chest, you pull away from Rhett so that you’re sitting in his lap. His hands automatically find home on your hips under the hoodie, gentle circles from his thumb rubbed into your hip bones.

“Look I know. Daniel is into some shady stuff, but he’s always been nice to me and if I called him for anything, he would be there.” Your fingers spin in your lap, a nervous habit. “It’s just nice to know that without you here, I have someone else that has my back. I don’t trust guys in general, but especially on campus.”

Rhett notices your slight nervous nature, and the tone you have when you mention the guys living on the campus. He’d seen them enough and known right away that they were douchebags, but you had never mentioned having trouble.

“There something I need to know about baby?”

The term of endearment has you glancing up, loving how sweet the tough cowboy could be with you.

“I had some problems when I first moved in, but Daniel ended them almost instantly. I didn’t wanna worry you, you already have so much going on.”

Your eyes causally avoid Rhett’s, already feeling bad that you’ve kept it from him. Rhett moves you sit up, and pulls you so your flush with his chest. So close that your eyes can’t help but to look at each other.

“Tilly, I don’t care what is going on in my life. You tell me from now on, please?”

It was rare to hear Rhett ask anyone ‘please,’ and the tone in his voice makes your stomach clench in pain. The thought of hurting him, even if it was on accident, was the worst possible thing you could think of happening. He was your person and you’d only ever kept it from him because you thought you were protecting him.

“I’m sorry baby, never again.”

The placement of your lips against his is out of the pure need to express your love, to prove how much he really meant to you.

“Promise?” The question whispered against your lips.

“I promise.”

…

I was a promise that you kept,

until you couldn’t.

[scarletttries]

Candy Cane Kisses (Eddie Munson One Shot)

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit Smut

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: My little Christmas offering of fluffy smut for all the Eddie fans keeping up with my series, but wishing I would write some smut for him too! <3 Thank you for all the support on all my Eddie posts, and feel free to send in new requests any time! (heart) Also I couldn't possibly write a fic about Eddie leaving the reader a note and not recommend everyone go check out the amazing and adorable notes by Eddie and Bird (@eddieandbird) this is definitely inspired by some of their great work :)

Candy Cane Kisses (part of my Christmas List)

"And I heard on the radio on the way to school this morning, it's supposed to snow on Christmas day!" Lucas practically buzzed with excitement talking through his Christmas plans, finally in the last week of school before the Christmas break.

"It never snows in Hawkins." Eddie quickly shot down, focus not shifting from the scrappy piece of paper he clutched in his lap, scratching out line after carefully worded line, unsatisfied with every letter he scrawled messily on the page.

"Who pissed in your eggnog?" Mike snapped at him, leaning across the table to try and see what had his dungeon master so fixated.

"(Y/n)" Dustin sighed, feigning infatuation to the amusement of the others.

"He wishes." Gareth added, another round of raucous laughter sweeping across the table and finally lifting Eddie's eyes from his lap,

"That doesn't even make sense." He rolled his eyes at the smug looks around the table at his attempted protests, before getting entirely distracted by the small group of students walking by the table, in the centre of which floated you. You who made Eddie's stomach feel like he'd only eaten sugar for a week, but in a way he didn't mind. You who could make him feel at home for the length of a class in a town that otherwise despised him. You who looked up and gave him a smile as your group swanned past, his heart fluttering in his chest as he returned the gesture with the smallest wave, setting off the chorus of laughter from his group again. Eddie had it bad.

"So you're sending them a candy cane right?" Dustin probed, much to Eddie's annoyance.

"I don't know, stay out of it Henderson." Eddie retorted, sighing in defeat as he scrunched up the piece of paper in his lap to a fist sized ball, "I wouldn't even know what to say."

"Dude, the first day we had Hellfire after you sat next to (y/n) you opened with 'Fellas, I'm in love.' Maybe just try that?" Lucas offered helpfully, his optimism and honestly slightly overshadowed by Mike's sarcasm,

"Only if you want to scare them off, play it cool, keep it short. How about 'you're probably the only reason I'm getting a B in Biology'." He advised confidently, making Eddie wonder how he'd ended up taking romantic advice from freshman, and how they all actually had girlfriends.

"Just be honest okay, whatever that means." Dustin concluded, leaving Eddie back where he started, pulling out a fresh piece of paper and desperately trying to find the words he'd spent months hoping to say to your face.

---

It was the end of the final period, on the last day of school before the holidays, and everyone watched the clock anxiously, desperate to run outside to see if any candy canes had been left stuck to their lockers.

"That's the reading you need to do over the next two weeks, and before you ask, yes there will be a quiz on it. Have a great break everyone, you are dismissed." Your teacher droned out in a single monotone sentence, not bothering to muster a smile as students poured out of her door with their well-wishes. You let most of the crowd rush ahead, confident your locker would be stood undecorated, focused solely on keeping up with your friends and your grades now that you were in your senior year. You almost didn't bother to check before you headed off for the break, but one small spark of hope made you walk the length of the hallway just in case. And to your surprise there a single candy cane sat, fixed to your locker handle with a curl of red ribbon, a physical token of affection from someone in your life.

You paused for a moment before you dared to read it, revelling in the moment of possibility; any number of friends might have just sent it as a festive gesture and nothing more, but that didn't stop your heart beating a little faster as you finally flicked open the little card,

"Hey sweetheart, I just wanted you to know that you're kind of my favourite person. And i'm going to miss you over Christmas break. I hope that's okay. Love, Eddie (Munson) (from Biology)"

You wanted to laugh at his detailed signature, but what caught your eye most was the little underline he'd scrawled under 'love'. Like he'd chosen to sign his card like that intentionally, more than just a throw away greeting. You let out a small chuckle to yourself as you walked away from your locker, feeling the corners of your mouth lift up into a smile, glad you didn't have anything planned for that afternoon.

---

Eddie had skipped final period in its entirety, a black hole opening up inside his stomach at the thought you reading his far-from-perfect note, sucking up any optimism he'd had for the gesture. He sat on the edge of his bed, growing more and more frustrated at his inability to play along to even a simple song on his guitar, mind entirely clouded in thick, dark fog - until two headlights pulling up outside seemed to cut right through the haze.

You'd never been to Eddie's trailer before, and on the drive over you started to wonder why. You and Eddie only really saw each other at school, occasionally seeing each other on the weekends in a wider group of friends, Eddie always taking the opportunity to find the seat next to you, willing himself to ask you to slip away, and soaking up every second he got to spend in your company. You'd never really had a moment alone together, not without a crowd of students or friends spread out around you, and that realisation gave this whole situation a atmosphere of anticipation as you knocked on the trailer door, Eddie opening it almost as soon as your knuckles made contact, unable to make himself wait a moment longer to see you.

"Hi Eddie, can I come in?" Your voice had a slight nervous shake to it as you spoke, the air in the room feeling a little thin as he opened the door with a nod, pointing down to the small corridor to his bedroom. Staring at the walls covered in dark posters, and metal covers, and occult imagery you couldn't help but smile at just how 'Eddie' his room was, wishing you had been invited in sooner and feeling like you got to know him a little better just by being here. Eddie immediately returned to the same spot on his bed, hunching over slightly in self-preservation as you took small steps, exploring the space.

"Good last day?" Eddie questioned, like small talk could keep him from having to explain himself to you, or experience whatever disappointing conclusion his infatuation with you was about to reach.

"Yeah it was. I got a candy cane." You said softly, pulling the little card from Eddie out of your pocket. Eddie didn't look up from his lap, knowing exactly why you were here in his mind, and bracing himself to spend the rest of the school year skipping biology. "Did you really mean what you wrote?"

He nodded his head softly, taking a deep breath before he dared to speak, desperate to hold himself together at least until you left, "Being your friend has made this year a lot better than the last few, and I love it, but honestly I want to be more than that. And I wanted you to know." He stared down at his hands, twisting a skull shaped ring over and over, as if not looking at you would keep him safe from whatever you were about to say. You walked around to stand just in front of him, the feel of your soft hands taking his enough to pull his focus up towards you, brown eyes glistening as they stared up at you hopelessly.

You moved slowly, first separating his interlocked hands, then bringing each of them purposefully to your waist. He didn't smile as your left his hands there, settling yours around his neck as you gradually sank down to straddle his lap, Eddie's grip tightening slightly as you settled onto his thighs. Brushing a strand of his thick hair away from his cheek bone, you smiled and whispered,

"Thanks for the candy cane." Before leaning in, slowly, carefully until the warmth of his lips melted the coldness on yours. You only held it for a second, testing the waters, Eddie's expression still unreadable as you watched the gears in his head turning. And then he was back on you, diving forward to feel your lips, encompassing you in his arms as he kissed you like the soft peppermint taste of you might be the only thing he ever wanted to experience again. You smiled as you let your fingers run through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling him let out a blissful hum that only parted his lips further, letting him make more hungry swallows of your lips, your head swimming with the obvious devotion in the way he chased your kiss. You pulled him back slightly to get a better look at his face, finally beginning to grow a smile that his romantic gesture had paid off, and that he now knew your lips were even sweeter than he'd been picturing.

"I'm really glad we're going to just protect our friendship." You said matter-of-factly, watching Eddie's face fall back into despair before you erupted into laugh, a matching grin returning to his face as he poked you in the side for your mischief.

"Oh that was cruel! You can't mess with a guy while you're on his lap!" He bellowed through his laughter, lips planting a constellation of kisses across your face, drawn to you now they had the option to be.

"I'm sorry, I'll be sure to get off your lap before I laugh at you next time." You teased, happy the dramatic tension in the air had shifted to the kind of laid back joking you loved about Eddie.

"Don't you dare" He rebuffed, squeezing you tightly against his chest to make sure you weren't going to leave his lap for any reason. As his grip shifted you higher on his thighs you could feel yourself brush over his crotch, a growing bulge starting to strain against the denim of his jeans. You rocked your hips again, capturing the involuntary moan from Eddie with a kiss, the vibrations from it running all the way down your spine. Eddie wasn't sure whether to apologise profusely or pretend he wasn't hard between your thighs, wishing he had just an ounce of self-control when it came to you. And then you rocked your hips against him again, intentional in your movements, devilish smile on your face as he broke the kiss to hold in a moan, and Eddie knew he was a goner.

One hand trailing down to your ass to support you, Eddie shifted himself backwards on the bed until he could lay on a pillow, keeping your chest pressed against his as he moved. His breath stilled in his lungs as he felt your weight shifting on top of him, the brushes over his jeans only that much more intense at this angle, his eyes clenching shut as he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"We can stop Eddie?" You reassured, a little concerned as he struggled to reopen his eyes to respond.

"I really don't want to stop! I'm just, uh, really not used to having a pretty girl on my bed. Or on my lap. So I'm just very excited." You smiled at his honesty and the slightly pained grin on his face as he looked up at you, leaning over him with his arms wrapped around you, a best case scenario for today that he wouldn't have even dared to dream about.

"You're very sweet. And I'm very excited too." You flirted, watching Eddie's eyes almost roll back in his head with a sigh at your words, before pulling himself together enough to roll you on to your back, rising up on his knees to undo the button on your jeans.

"You're going to be the death of me sweetheart, I already know it." He laughed, almost to himself, as he eased the denim down your legs, until only your panties remained, a sight Eddie had imagined on his cold, lonely nights more than once.

"Fuck." He sighed out as let his lips began to mark a trail up your leg, kissing and sucking at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs and drinking every twitch and giggle the action drew from you. As his fingers reached the edge of your underwear, everything he wanted now in his reach, he raised his head slightly, solemn look in his eye as he spoke,

"Are you sure you want this? With me?" Your heart practically burst with affection as you stared down at him, full of desire and want and need, for him.

"I want this, and I want you Eddie." The words almost came out in a whine as you felt yourself getting wetter waiting for his touch, the smile on his face as your confirmation the most confident he'd looked since you walked into his room.

"Good girl." Was all he said as he hooked his fingers into your waistband and removed the final bit of fabric in his way. He started slowly, just running a finger softly over your slit, watching your every reaction closely, wanting to take his time to see exactly what you liked. Even these small touches had his finger coated in slick, and you watched him experimentally bring it to his lips, sucking it clean and humming happily as he did.

"I always knew you were sweet inside and out." He praised before burying his head between your thighs, tongue licking broad flat strokes over your centre, tasting every drop of your excitement and starting to draw louder pants and moans from you with every motion. Two of his fingers slipped inside you easily, the cold metal of his rings grazing your clit between licks and making your whole body flinch at the sensation. Eddie chuckled against you at the reaction, only stimulating your sensitive bud more,

"Eddie," you whimpered, "You feel so good." He moaned against you at the praise, free hand shifting your shirt up slightly so his broad palm could rest flat over your stomach, holding you in place and feeling you tense and shake as he worked.

"You're so good to me sweetheart, letting me taste you like this. Letting me hear you say my name like this is one of my wet dreams. Now whenever I wear my rings I'm just going to be thinking about how much you like them here." As if it prove his point he brought the cold metal to brush over your clit, soft strokes in time with plunging fingers, your thighs clenching around his head involuntary at the throbbing feeling growing inside you of,

"Fuck, you're killing me (y/n)." He groaned again at the movement, feeling his own hips rock against the bed as yours started to buck against his touch, following his every movement, the pressure tightening in your stomach as his tongue returned to your clit, worshipping every inch of your pussy with his fingers and mouth, holding you against the bed as you started to squirm at all tingly sensation spreading through you.

"Eddie," You cried out again as he curved his fingers to massage a new spot inside you, steady flicks of his tongue bringing you to the edge as he savoured every drop of you he tasted, "I'm gonna-" was all you got out as the tension inside you overflowed into release, your legs shaking around Eddie as he moaned happily against you, maintaining his steady rhythm as he felt the waves of pleasure ripple through your core, even the soft brush of his untamed hair on your inner thighs making you flinch with sensitivity.

You felt your head begin to clear as your rode out your orgasm, placing a hand under Eddie's chin to bring him up for a kiss, watching the slight glee in his eyes as he held his position a little too long, watching you squirm from the overstimulation of his continuous circles on your clit, knowing you were awakening something in him you'd be on the receiving end of for a long time to come.

He wiped his glistening face with the back of his hand as you brought his lips back to yours, feeling himself twitch in excitement at the combination of two new favourite tastes. He only leant up for air as you pulled his shirt over his head, letting your hands trace along each of his tattoos, noticing the slight gasp of breath he took when the tip of your finger brushed lightly over each of his nipples. Even with his whole body pressed to yours, your entrance still sensitive from his touch, you needed to feel more of him. Clearly hoping for the same thing, the second you started to unbutton his jeans, Eddie quickly stood up, kicking them off for you, watching in awe as you pulled off your shirt, and unclasped the bra underneath letting it fall forwards, watching Eddie's hard cock twitch as you discarded it.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Eddie said the words like a prayer, awestruck as he crawled back over your form, lips drawn to your now exposed chest. One hand followed cupping and kneading at the tender curves while his lips grazed over the other nipple, planting gentle kisses and tracing soft shapes with his tongue, sure nothing had ever compared to how good he felt right now.

He had the the exact same thought as your hand snaked between your bodies, taking hold of Eddie's throbbing length and starting firm, smooth strokes, your thumb rubbing the base in a way that made Eddie let out an earth-shattering moan. He was used to the feel of his own hand, supplemented by his vivid imagination, but feeling the touch of yours as his tip dipped into the soft, sticky skin of your thighs had Eddie finding nirvana and swearing allegiance to whichever dark force put you in his life. Losing the ability to do anything but pant and groan as you worked him in your hand, you eased Eddie on to his back bringing a leg over him to straddle his thighs once again. Eddie watched you through lidded eyes, his chest heaving up and down with every touch, his whole body jolting as you ran your tongue over his leaking tip, not sure how much more of this he was going to survive.

"(y/n)" he managed to moan out breathlessly, eyes widening as he watched you line him up between your dripping folds. .

"You still want this Eddie?" You sighed out, making sure to put extra emphasis on his name as you teasingly ran him over your slit.

"Fuck, yes, please, please." He begged, hips trying to buck up beneath you, desperate to feel you wrapped around him. His cock almost ached as you slowly sank down around him, feeling yourself stretched and filled completely by his perfect size. Eddie watched your eyes flutter shut as you took a few gentle bounces, your chest jumping with the rest of you in easily the hottest sight Eddie had ever seen. Needy for more of you, to feel you react to his touch again, Eddie sat himself up, keeping you wrapped around him as he pulled you into his lap.

"Good girl." He cooed as he brought his fingers to your throbbing clit, watching as you started to bounce more eagerly in response to his touch, your sensitivity addictive to Eddie, his mind already racing with all the fun he could have with it, driving you over the edge of pleasure again and again if you'd let him.

"Eddie," you moaned again as his fingers strummed over you, tongue lapping at your nipples as you rocked up and down, every part of you alight at his vigilant touch. He focused on your every noise and tremble, trying to memorise the look on your face as your hips started to stutter again, back arching your chest against his lips as your walls started clench down around him,

"That's my girl, cum for me, that's it." He praised, coaxing the orgasm out of you with frantic thrusts of his hips, making sure you were almost crying with ecstacy before he finally spilled his seed inside you, the feeling of releasing all over your walls something he knew he'd be chasing again and again, wanting to stay deep inside you forever.

You could feel the content smile washing over your face as you collapsed onto Eddie's chest, his back landing on the bed again as his hands worked soft warm circles over your skin.

"That was amazing." You signed out absentmindedly, Eddie humming happily in agreement as he kept you held close, enjoying the perfect moment of bliss before he worked up the nerve to ask you on a real date. He let his gaze fall to your satisfied face, before a glimpse of something shimmering caught his eye out the window - turns out it did snow in Hawkins sometimes.

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Groupie AU Headcanons

Hello hello! Here's those headcanons I promised for the one year anniversary of Settle Down! They aren't really all that smutty, sorry. I'm still planning on writing more filth for you guys, though, I promise! Also, I'm sorry if this isn't my best work, I'm not really well-versed in writing headcanons, but it was a really fun exercise!

Without further ado, enjoy!

...

Warnings: Language, one spicy headcanon (#3), which includes a couple lines of dirty texts and one mention of masturbation over the phone

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader; Jake Kiszka x Reader; Sam Kiszka x Reader; Josh Kiszka x Reader

Words: 3545

...

What you like to do for fun together:

Josh:

Josh likes to romance you even though you aren’t a couple. He’ll surprise you with a rose and whisk you away for an adventure around the town, but his favorite thing to do with you is find the most beautiful park and picnic, bonus point if there’s a pond or a lake because you guys like to keep seaweed snacks on you to feed the ducks. You’ll name them funny little names and he always ends up taking a selfie with them, which you always find funny because his photo reel is full of selfies with ducks.

“A rose for my darling,” Josh said, swooping dramatically until you took the flower from his hand. 

You took his outstretched hand and followed him down the stairs, noting the backpack he wore. “Did you find us a park? And did you get some seaweed? You fed the rest of ours to those mallards in Indiana last time.”

Josh shot you a mischeivous grin, and then opened the door to the rental car for you. “Don’t tell Sam, but I stole the rest of his.”

Jake: 

Jake loves teaching you about music, but not just music in general, music the way he sees it. He’s not great at sight reading or anything having to do with music notes on paper, so when he caught you staring early on in the arrangement and you admitted that you loved watching them play and were interested in learning yourself, Jake couldn’t help but put himself in the position of teacher, even if he’d never taught before, because he loves explaining his process to you, which also helps him figure things out himself when he has trouble. You’ll sit there together for hours with a snack and just play around on the instruments.

“It kinda reminds me of when Pheobe tried to teach Joey how to play guitar,” you laughed. After the many months now that you’d been with them, you’d have thought you would be better now at the guitar. You were not.

Jake smiled and made an exagerated hand motion. “What – you mean you think I name my precious skills things like ‘the bear claw’ and ‘the old lady?’” he teased, having watched that episode with you just to scrutinize the guitar playing. He moved to sit with his chest flush up against your back, wrapping his arms around you, even though they nearly didn’t reach around the guitar, and you leaned back into him, content to just watch him play.

Danny:

Danny loves going to antique stores with you. The Kiszka brothers aren’t always in the mood to spend hours looking meticulously through each and every section in the store, but you’re always down to stay with him and watch his eyes light up when he sees something cool. Your favorite thing to do is find a very expensive or different clothing rack and then dress each other up in the weirdest outfits possible (although one time, you did end up liking a coat he put you in more than you thought you would, and Danny carried it around the store for you until you checked out).

“Do you think that Josie would hate me if I showed up with an entire vintage ‘My Little Pony’ set for her birthday next month?” Danny joked, grinning as you raised your brows in surprise at the pure size of the display, with what look like about 50 plastic ponies all standing around a multi-piece set.

You picked up a pink one. “I’m sure you’d definitely be low on the list of ‘people I need to send a thank you card to.” You turned to see an old ukulele hanging on the wall at the booth across the floor. “But I don’t think you should be actively making your sister hate you. Go check that uke out instead.”

He turned to where you were pointing and gasped, the hand-painted designs immediately making him forget about ‘My Little Pony.’

Sam: 

Sam loves drinks – alcoholic, holiday, specialty, anything – and he loves knowing what the “special” drink of whatever town or city they’re in is. He’ll do all his research and send you screenshots or links to places that he wants to go, and he knows you’ll come with because you want to take advantage of seeing the world like a rockstar without fame. Sometimes, just to fuck with people, Sam insists that you made each other unrecognizable, and then once you’d drank your fill of the best hot cocoa or a flight of craft beer, he’d call Danny or one of his brothers and challenge them to find you, like a big game of hide and go seek.

“I think you look a little bit like a cartoon character who dresses up in disguise. The fake mustache is going just a little too far,” you teased, watching Sam wipe his mouth and accidentally set the stick-on facial hair askew. 

He gasped as if offended and fixed his mustache, smoothing it out with his fingers and shooting you a dirty glare in the process. “Don’t talk about the ‘stache that way, Y/N. It’s my Clark Kent factor,” he defended. 

Clark Kent had nothing on Sam Kiszka, you thought. You took a sip of a new beer from your flight and smacked your lips together. “Oh, this one’s good. Here, Superman,” you said playfully, hovering the drink over to Sam’s side of the table, “taste this one.”

How they’d react to a pregnancy scare:

Josh:

The most supportive boy there ever was! Wanna keep the baby? He’s already looking at the safest cribs. Don’t wanna keep it? He’ll drive you across the US to get you to a state that supports it, and he’d insist on being the first brother at your side, since he’s the oldest. But as we all know, Josh loves children, and he’s already writing lyrics about the the wonders of childhood and all the feelings he’s experiencing knowing that he could potentially be a father (…25% chance biologically, 100% chance in practice), and he keeps them stored away when the scare is resolved, but you find them weeks later, since everyone’s stuff is mixed with everyone else’s, and it definitely makes you cry.

“I really like this one,” you said, voice quivering as you read a set of lyrics on the papers you found that brought a lump to your throat. Just seeing how Josh had perceived things through his specific brand of communication was special, and even if you hadn’t wanted a baby, experiencing Josh’s positivity was something of a bundle of joy in and of itself.

Josh peeked over your shoulder and became a little bashful. “Well, they’re still a work in progress.”

Jake:

Jake is probably one of the most apprehensive about the maybe-pregnancy. In no way would he shirk responsibility or even be disappointed, per se, but he does worry about how it will affect the band, the arrangement, and their lives in general. He knows that the band’s time has an expiration date, and somewhere deep inside, he’d be a little worried that a baby would make that date come sooner. In his opinion, it would be one of the best reasons to go out, but Jake isn’t done quite yet. That being said, Jake thinks tiny little guitars are cute, and he quite likes playing house with you. He’s also second, only after Sam, regarding the most curious about who the “real” father would have been, if you actually had been pregnant. 

“You’ve been a little quiet,” you said, nose to nose with Jake in his bunk. There was no funny business, not after the excitement of the day, but you’d noticed his unusually subdued demeanor after you broke the news.

Jake looked back at you with what almost look like guilt. “I’m just…processing. It’s like, our whole lives could have been changed, you know? And I feel bad that part of me was so– so against a baby .”

You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, grateful that he was honest and thoughtful both. “I would never ask you to give up your life, Jake. We’d have found a way.”

Danny:

He becomes a little bit of a Papa Bear, very much a dad-zilla, even in the short time the scare goes on for. Very freaked out, very concerned, but the most attentive of them all. He’s the one going out to buy the pregnancy tests and coming back with vitamins and a chocolate bar, too. He’s also the one who does the research for the nearest OB GYN so that if you are pregnant, you could be seen. He’s there in the morning with water and a cuddle, and he’d watch you like a hawk until you were safely and securely not pregnant, but he’d admit to you days after that he didn’t mind playing the doting partner, for what it was worth.

“Wait!” Danny cried out as the three Kiszkas enveloped you in a tight, comforting group hug. You all turned your heads toward him, bodies frozen where they were as his tone of voice surprised you.

“What?” you questioned. You’d much rather him be involved in the hug than standing on the outside, but he sounded worried and that set you on edge.

Danny bit his lip, taken aback by the immediate and complete shift of attention to him, even though he called it to himself. “Um…” he started, licking his lips uncertainly, “that won’t, like…hurt the baby, will it?”

“Oh god,” Sam chuckled, pulling away. “It’s the return of home-ec Flour Baby Dad Danny! Everybody run!”

Sam:

Sam spends the first few hours of the scare attempting to make light of it by assigning everyone a parental role. He jokingly dubs Danny, “Daddy,” as a nod to their fans (which Danny just rolls his eyes and shakes his head at), declares himself, “Pops,” Josh, “Papa,” (but only with a Spanish twist), and Jake, “Dada,” (but, again, only in the Shrek the III voice). In all reality, he’s scared out of his wits, because logically, Journey was right - the road ain’t no place to start a family. But between the doubts and the fear and the unpreparedness, seeing you laugh at his stupid jokes and the way his brothers look at you, he’d also knows that you already were kinda a family, and regardless of your decision to keep it or not, you’d be a pretty damn good one after everything, too.

You could see Sam sitting on his hands, everyone waiting impatiently for Danny to get back from the drugstore they had to do an emergency stop at. It was only ever in the dressing room before a show that Sam did that.

“You good?” you asked quietly as you sat next to him, hand on his knee. 

Sam chuckled softly, glancing at you with his basset-hound eyes. “Yeah,” he said, clearly nervous but trying to hold it together. “Are you?”

You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder to and stem his nervous energy. “Sure,” you said, half false confidence, the other half genuine. “One way or another, we will be.”

How they’d react if you sent them a dirty picture (that the others didn’t get 👀):

Josh:

Josh is probably the one who least minds sharing you. It’s not because he doesn’t love you any less than the others, it’s because he finds you so damn beautiful that he couldn’t fathom not sharing you with the others, who he knows love you just as much. So, when the other three don’t get a text, he shares with them, but only just barely; he is, after all, possessive of what you give to him specifically, so he only allows the other’s a peek once he checks that it’s okay with you. Very much, “ha ha, look what I have” more than he does it out of the goodness of his heart.

“Holy shit, darling. How can you do this to me? You know I’m around my brothers, and you know that we won’t be home for another few hours.”

“Can I brag about you, darling? Would it be okay for me to show the others how beautiful you look in that picture? Just so that they know. Then it’s all for me.”

“I can’t stop staring at this, Y/N, damn. How did we get so fucking lucky?”

Jake:

Jake is definitely the one taking a little “break” from whatever it is he was doing. Most likely to the bathroom (hint hint wink wink). If he knows you’re free, he’d definitely give you a call, just so that you can hear his breathing change as he gets off in the studio’s private bathroom. You might even talk him through it, knowing that you got him so worked up with one picture. And when he gets back to the others, he’d just smirk knowingly in a way that would drive the other three insane.

“You know it’s only fair that I call you so you can hear what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m alone now. I hope you are too.”

“The others hate me for having a secret, but if you wear that little number tonight I bet they’ll forget all about ;)”

Danny:

You know that you’re playing with fire when it comes to Danny with how quick he is to snap from his sweet, down-to-earth everyday demeanor to his dominant, controlling bedroom one. Combining the two different extremes of his personality, especially when he’s not with you to do anything about it, creates a very interesting breed of Danny, and the others would never know what set him off because he wouldn’t be thinking of them – as soon as he sees that picture, he knows that his focus is done for the rest of the day. He’s only human, after all.

“If you wanted me to leave to come and fuck you stupid…this was the best way to do that. Good job.”

“You’re so pretty and I want to absolutely RUIN that. In a good way, obviously.”

“You’re gonna want to start groveling, sweet girl. You’ve made me mess up too many times and they’ve sent me home.”

Sam:

He’d immediately look up at the others for their reaction if he was around them and, when he doesn’t see a reaction, he’d catch on immediately that he was the sole recipient of the photos and devolve into his teasing, taunting bedroom persona. He’s just as good at getting you all riled up over the phone as he is in person. He’d hint at it in the group, telling his brothers when they ask why he’s so distracted on his phone, “It’s a Y/N and I thing. For me to enjoy and you to not.”

“Just for me, dirty girl? How kind of you.”

“Good god, baby, you are beautiful. Where have you been hiding these sexy little pictures?”

“You’re gonna be dressed like this when I get back to the bus, right? Curl up right there in my bunk with the blinds closed, I want you all to myself. Go ahead and touch yourself for me, make sure you’re nice and wet and ready, cause this was a naughty, naughty, prank.”

How they’d react to fan speculation about their relationship with you:

Josh:

He’d have next to no reaction. In fact, you’d be very surprised if it were him to bring it up in the first place, because Josh loves his fans, but to a point that seeing everyone’s wants and desires and criticisms all at once overwhelms him since he can’t make everyone happy. But if he saw something about your relationship, he’d be sure to bring it up to you if only to make you aware of it, but outside of that, he really doesn’t care if people speculate.He protects you as best as he can – they all do – but he’s no stranger to the world of fame and fans, so he sees no reason to fight it.

“Hey, we’re dating again, just to let you know,” Josh said casually from the couch as you poured yourself a cup of drip coffee and hoped to God that the bus wouldn’t make you spill it all over yourself.

His words made you laugh, though, and you snorted before taking a sip of your drink. “Oh yeah? I wasn’t sure who I was on most recently. The last I heard I was caught up in a love triangle between Danny and Jake, and they hated each other because of me, so…”

Josh put his feet in your lap as soon as you sat down next to him. “Nah, darling, you’re all mine right now.”

Jake:

Like Josh, he probably wouldn’t have much of an outwardly reaction, but the speculation would put Jake a little more on edge, especially since he lurks on social media more than Josh does. This would unfortunately lead to him distancing himself from you for a little bit, meaning not as much sex, not as much fun, and not as much time that he spent with the band when you tag along. It might make you falter for a second, not knowing what brought it on (and not because you hadn’t seen the rumors, but because there were so many of them that you’d become desensitized) but, eventually, the other boys would drag him to you when they figure out that he’s making you upset by doing it, and he’d come around like he always does.

“I think that you being the mastermind behind this all is very fitting,” Jake joked, listening as the dressing room door was barricaded from the outside. “They’re just your loyal meatheads.”

“Why are you avoiding me?” you asked, ignoring his question and getting right to the point that the other boys had brought Jake in to clear up. “I’ve given you like, one handjob in the past two weeks and you gave up your hotel night to Josh.” It was about more than sex, of course – you missed him as a friend, and you were worried you’d done something to make him angry. He fixed you with a startled gaze and began to protest, but you would have none of it. “And you DARE say that you aren’t, Jake Kiszka. Talk to me," you asked, softer now.

Jake hesitated for a moment, but let out a deep breath he seemed to be holding in his entire being. "Okay."

Danny:

This man would cause chaos if given the opportunity. He’d like supportive posts, but he’d also like cryptic, single-guy coded posts just because he can. He’d probably even follow a new ‘run by a hot woman’ account to really nail the point in that nobody out there really knew what was going on behind closed doors. And, speaking of behind closed doors, he likes it when the speculation cycle eventually makes it around to him again, because he when people think you’re his, it gives him ground to call you that “as a joke.” However, it also makes him just that much more likely to have you whisper-scream his name on the bus for the others to hear, and that’s not a joke.  

“Well, hello there, Y/N,” Danny said with a wink as he slid into the diner booth beside you before any of the other three could, “or should I say, my ‘on-and-off-again, no-good-for-me girlfriend’ who I was apparently seen buying a ring for last week.”

The other three band members crowded into the other seats, leaving you squished up against the wall. “It’d better be one fat diamond, Wagner,” you huffed, prying your phone from between the two of you. “Have the masses moved me to your corner again?”

“Oh yeah,” Danny confirmed, smiling sweetly and wrapping an arm around you. He kissed your cheek and then followed it with a whisper into your ear, “I’m your prince in the streets but a freak in the sheets, as they say. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Sam:

Sam is an enigma when it comes to speculations. It happens so much that he gets bored of it, and his response differs every time. In the beginning, he would just shut down socially – that meant a break from social media, less outings, less fan interaction from him – but as time went by and speculations because something to sigh about instead of react to, he’d be even more careless. He’d post stories with you, bring you everywhere with them, throw you a kiss onstage, etc. because he’d be a little spiteful. He doesn’t like it when people demonize you for being close with the whole band, so he’ll show his affection plain as day to get that message across.

“Sam, just because they say–”

“I don’t care what they fucking say, I’m doing this because I want to,” Sam insisted, popping a piece of cotton candy in his mouth as the Ferris Wheel rose higher. “I love fairs.”

Looking out at all the people wandering around the town they were playing a show in, you knew there’d be a large population of Greta Van Fleet fans who’d catch sight of you and make assumptions. You honestly didn’t mind, but you knew it ticked Sam off, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

The sun was beginning to set, though, and pressed flush shoulder to foot with Sam, you couldn’t really find it in you to argue.

...

If you've requested to be on the taglist via the form and don't see your name, it might be because you forgot to put your username! The form is anonymous, so I can't see who you are unless you put it :)

Taglist:

@fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @theatrekidjosh @fictional-duchess @greta-van-yeet @prophetofthedune @toothgapjoshy @gretavanfleas @gretavanfleetposts @doodle417 @razorbladekiszka @sammysvanfeet @s-u-t @lallisonl @hayley1623 @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @toxbexannouncedx @sammyslappers @alexxavicry @thecoldwind @maedesculpaeusoubi @jordierama @tripthelightfandomtastic @givemeyourtots2

[shares-a-vest]

Platonic Stobin Month, Day 24: Babysitting

Prompt List

“What are you doing?”

Steve jumps at the question, flying off his chair at the front desk and inadvertently sending it back into Robin’s stomach.

“Nothing!” he exclaims, panicked as he gathers up the crumpled paper he has been hunched over all morning.

Robin narrows her eyes as Steve avoids looking directly at her. She places her hands on her hips in an attempt to assert any kind of persuasion.

“What is it?”

“Just my planner,” he shrugs, pouting.

He readjusts his seat and resumes his spot.

“You have a planner?” she asks, dumbfounded as she steps towards him and cranes her neck over his shoulder.

This time, Steve doesn’t hide, allowing Robin a full view of his ‘planner’.

And ‘planner’ is a very loose word for it. It’s basically just a single sheet of lined paper, torn from a notebook, filled with Steve’s crinkled handwriting at all different angles. Half of a table is shakily drawn up, with names crossed out and arrows pointing every which way and a pathetic little lopsided love heart next to his unfortunate date for the week, Cynthia.

“Wait,” Robin says, pausing momentarily to pinch her nose because god, Steve is such a dork. “You are making a schedule for all your babysitting crap?”

Steve spins around on the chair, exasperated.

“What am I supposed to do?” he huffs. “Henderson’s mom is on some trip with her sister so I’m basically looking after him all week. Lucas needs more practice before the Tigers pick their lineup for the semester. Plus the boys need me to drive them to their Dragon Game Night every other day now that they are in whatever that club is called. And - ”

Robin holds out her hands, cutting them through the air to silence her rambling and panicked best friend.

“New plan,” she begins, nodding with encouragement as Steve finally takes a breath. “You write down everything you have to do this week. I’ll work out the schedule.”

She scrambles for a Family Video-branded notepad, rips a slip of paper clean and hands it to Steve.

It turns out, Steve’s babysitting duties didn’t just stop at car rides, the occasional ice cream run and (hopefully) rare child-endangerment shenanigans. It was an elaborate ecosystem of never-ending arrangements with seven other people, plus whatever time Steve had left for himself.

Oh, and Robin, of course. She couldn’t forget herself amongst all this (which this week meant car rides to work, school and a shopping trip before Steve’s date with Cynthia… he needs backup, okay?). Anyway despite taking full advantage of having a friend with a car, Robin actually wanted to spend time with her platonic soulmate instead of eighth-wheeling it with a bunch of dweebs.

It takes until closing and dividing each task onto separate slips of paper to shuffle around, but Robin manages to help Steve turn his hectic babysitting schedule into a fine art.

A fine art that is thrown into utter chaos when anybody else chimes in (apocalyptic situations not counting because quite frankly, they shouldn't). Anybody else being Nancy and later Jonathan, Argyle and Eddie.

Nancy never helps with babysitting. In fact, she outright refuses. Even if DND is in the Wheeler’s basement, or she has no choice but to drive Mike, she only ever argues with her younger brother which creates a chain reaction of bickering and in-fighting.

Argyle and Jonathan of course extend their California chill to everything, which just means allowing the kids to walk all over them and throw The Schedule out the window (once Max literally threw Robin’s colour-coded carpool timetable out the Beemer’s back window all because Argyle chimed in with a, “Don’t worry about that thing, man!” on their way to the movies).

And Eddie… Well, Mr Eddie Munson causes endless problems because he somehow possesses Nancy's stubbornness, Argyle and Jonathan’s laissez-faire attitudes, Robin’s own tendency for distraction as well as Steve’s sole interest in romantic attention. All of which combined into a single devilish being who brings untold carnage.

“Like a well-oiled machine,” Robin coos before downing the last of her beer and crushing the can in her hand, triumphant over the scene before her.

She watches as the kids mingle around the Harringtons' pool, enjoying a warm summer afternoon while she helps Steve at the barbeque.

Although she’s unaware that Eddie is creeping up behind the two of them with Nancy in tow, both mildly high courtesy of Argyle and Jonathan (who are late with the other burger supplies from the kitchen) and ready to throw a fully-clothed Steve into the pool...

[normanbased]

TELL US ABOUT THE AU /nf

OKAY!! So as some base line context — It’s set a few months after Psycho II. Emma Spool doesn’t exist, Lila killed all the people who died in Psycho II (except Dr Raymond who lived). Norman and Mary essentially defended each other from Lila in the final fight and Lila is gunned down by the police.

If anyone wants to send any asks about my AU pls feel free to!! I’d be happy to answer them :]]

Mary and Norman are both injured and end up in the hospital for a little while with minor to moderate injuries. They both make full recoveries and over their stay in the hospital they really start to bond more — You know, bring each other snacks, talk in the middle of the night about deep philosophical life stuff, share fun drama about the hospital staff. Somehow, only after a few weeks, they’re able to laugh about things again.

Once they’re both discharged, Mary doesn’t really have anywhere left to go, so of course she sticks around with Norman. The two of them develop a sort of parent/sibling relationship and while Norman does his best to keep the motel afloat, Mary supports them both with different day jobs.

It’s clearly not working out, though. If the motel had low attendance before, it was even worse now after another stint in the local paper as the ‘Murder Motel’. Money is the lowest it’s ever been and if they can’t come up with a solution soon, Norman might have to foreclose on the business.

Mary is doing her best, but she suddenly has a lot of pressure on her to provide. They consider each other family now, though, so she’s determined to stick it out.

Then one afternoon, a certain Duane Duke’s car breaks down on the side of the highway. Like in Psycho III, he needs some place to stay for a while and takes up a job at the motel. Obviously he notices that the place is struggling, and starts formulating some plans to help out. It’s mostly just so he can get out of there faster, but he also has to admit that he feels a little sorry for the two of them, (not to mention he has a huge crush on Mary).

Duke uses his knowledge of the music industry to help Norman develop the Motel in a sort of event hub for Fairvale — There’s a pretty expansive portion of the grounds that makes a decent field. It’s flat, spacious, and easy to access. There’s enough open land to put on small festivals, music gigs, sporting events, fairs, and outdoor competitions. It’s slow at first, but it starts to make them a LOT of money. Norman isn’t so keen about all the traffic, but it’s better than nothing.

(It does mean that something different is on every other week, so there are lots of events I wanna write about them setting up :]])

There are a few conflicts that run through the general idea of the AU —

Mary doesn’t reciprocate Duke’s crush at first and that causes problems. His immaturity is a big issue for her that takes a while to be resolved. Eventually when she does start to have feelings for him, she feels inadequate. She also worries a lot about Norman, about his isolation, his mental health, and how Duke takes advantage of him at first (which is also resolved later). She is just as protective of Norman as he is of her, and won’t tolerate him being manipulated. She’s also grieving the loss of her own mother and it takes its toll on her.

Norman is very protective of Mary since he essentially sees her as a daughter/sister and he doesn’t want somebody like Duke to hurt her. He’s really on edge about Duke’s behaviour around her, so much so that he hardly even recognises when he’s taking advantage of Norman instead. Norman is also really conflicted about all the different business prospects the Motel is having because the whole process of commercialising the area frightens him. Deep down, he liked the peace and quiet.

Duke generally struggles with his ego, with accepting rejection, but also with accepting help and affection from friends, and expressing his emotions in a healthy, non-destructive way. He wants Mary, and, at first, can’t stand Norman. Eventually though, he and Norman sort of work things out and end up in a more amicable relationship than before. Usually all three of them are around when the Motel becomes successful, but Mary still juggles other work from time to time, which leaves Norman and Duke to hash things out and tentatively improve their friendship.

One image I have in my mind is like, Norman and Duke bonding during a power outage, trying to fix the generator, and eventually giving up and visiting Mary at the diner for some food and some company. They act super nonchalantly about it, but it’s a really big sorta “we actually really care about each other and enjoy each others presence” moment for the three of them.

The biggest conflict is probably when Duke announces he’s made enough money to pursue his rockstar dreams and plans to leave, which just depresses the fuck out of Mary and Norman. Mary has to fight with the decision to stay with Norman and essentially be left behind, or go with Duke and abandon Norman. It’s a lot for her. I still haven’t decided how I want that to all go down. I don’t want Duke to have to give up his dreams, but I want everyone to be happy 😭 hopefully I won’t have to end it on a “they’ll never truly be happy together like this” ending and make them all split up — but also… maybe a natural sort of “time is transient and people move on and memories remain” sort of ending might work well….

OH!! I also want Mary to be aspiring to go to college/university and Norman is VERY supportive because he never even got to go to high school, let alone college. He wants to see his girl succeed!! (I just want him and Duke to be her two guests for her graduation cheering like crazy and making a fool of themselves and embarrassing her while she’s on stage by being so loud but she loves them so much and can’t help but laugh 💖💖💖)

[originalfireemblemscenarios]

Yay! Here’s a love letter for F!Reader & Yuri! Reader wrote this on the title page she tore out of a book, though Yuri will receive it neatly folded. They were close until she disappeared mid-timeskip without notice. Almost over a month after her disappearance, this letter is sent and received.

{Reader was a young stage performer before attending Garreg Mach. After the time skip, she used her new strength to become a notable stunt performer in an attempt to avoid the war. She is a down-to-earth commoner who is kinder to children and tends to make jokes at the wrong time. (Don’t need you to force any of this into your response haha. This is just so you know who you’re writing to.)}

+There is not much time to write this. They have been testing me these past several weeks without end. Some form of empathogen injected into my blood; a twisted love potion, if you will.

Every other time it has failed, and every other time I have not been released from their sight. Now, they claim my next dose will give way to success. Permanently.

Fortunately, this means they’ve turned the other way long enough for me to send this with someone I trust. I’m certain she can give you some information if you’re determined to do something about any of this.

I don’t know what their plans are, but if you see me hanging off the arm of the new Lord Vestra, you’ll know I’ve lost for good.

I’m sure you’d reprimand me for saying this, but…it’s always been you, and it will always be you. Please never forget that.+

Woo that's a really cool background! Hope I understood what you wanted hah.

And, well I'm treating my response as an unsent letter ;)

This is a part of 3x Valentines event

~

He was dead worried when you suddenly disappeared, obviously he started looking for you right away. But no matter how hard he tries, all clues lead him to dead end.

That is until he got your letter. He immediately started his preparations on how to save you.

First he wrote a letter, not to send to you, but to give to you directly.

Second he managed to get where you were being captured. He snuck in and investigated from the inside as to how everything is structured. Previously, he asked the girl who gave him your letter how you were being guarded so he knew that his first going in was just to contact you.

When you were sitting alone you saw a piece of paper slip from under the doors. You checked it right away.

Y/N

We'll get to all of the emotional part of our reunion later. Right now I want you to focus on what I've written down because the moment you're finished with the letter, discard it. We can't risk anyone finding it because it's the only plan I could figure out with how heavily you're guarded. All you need to do is to somehow convince everyone that their experiments are slowly starting to work. When I left I made some preparations for our escape route so it's best if you could start your act by the time you get rid of the letter.

Yuri

And with that everything was set in motion. Yuri hadn't shared most of his plan, but it was only because he couldn't make the letter longer than it already was and take up more of your time. So you weren't really prepared for what was about to go down. But you trusted Yuri so you did exactly what he asked of you.

When you weren't locked in the room you were previously in it was harder to predict where you were, but after setting up his distraction it wasn't hard to find you given how much extra time he had. But even though he secured it, he didn't waste it.

All that matters was that he could get you out of there.

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, John 3:20(1)

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(No icon) In which sometimes, you have to give the people what they obviously want to see.

In the dream, night gives way to day but not the colour of sunrise. She often forgets how to breathe or swallow, and chokes until her body remembers for her.

He says none of them wanted to use the nuke.(2) It felt unreal, like a toy. They put it in a safe under the floor and swore not to use it. G- even made sure it couldn't be armed. It was just insurance, and leverage, to get people to listen. Their first priority was to keep asking the hard questions about the FTL project, the second to throw money at it, and the third to tell people they had a nuke.

He says, they were aware it was an international incident just to have the nuke, but they were party to one of the biggest political scandals in history. And it was taking so long to get nothing at all done.

The FTL plan proceeded steadily, gaining support. Nations started to argue over who they'd send in which trips, and how to make sure it wasn't a repeat of old colonialism on the other end.

That’s where they met resistance, because the trillionaires were all, But we’ve got our hand-picked guys. There’s only so much room, they’ve already undergone training, this isn’t a tourist trip. Nobody liked that. We’d been calling bullshit the whole time, and now we were getting some traction. I said, Give me a year and I’ll see if I can’t solve the Tau Ceti question by myself, we’ve already got plans, I could do a hell of a lot with the cryo cans now if you let me. Earned some Trans-Tasman support, but then the trillionaires banged the wanted criminal drum and put me on the back burner. The bastards said, Fine, we’ll make room for two hundred nominated people—two hundred! Two measly hundred!—and I was all, They won’t fall for that. He said, They fell for it.

Once they got the greenlight, the trillionaires said they could leave in three months, to get it underway quickly, before another round of climate starvation.

John, meanwhile, paid people to find the FTL engineering facilities. As soon as a building is confirmed, John knew it couldn't be right, the deliveries weren't even material to build space ships. They were just ordering random crap to look busy. He couldn't be sure the buildings were empty, but it was suspicious as hell.

They took what evidence they had to the governments that would still listen to them. They should have been able to halt the process until they could investigate...

But instead they asked the trillionaires for their point of view. And the trillionaires lied! They lied like their lives fucking depended on it! They had a glib answer for every question; I swear someone told them we were on to them beforehand! I mean, our cheapo mercs did get caught. They lied and everyone swallowed their shit. Not only that, they looked at us and were like, We were going to put you fellas in jail, weren’t we? Isn’t it time you guys stop being independent actors, aren’t you recognised by most nations as a cult? We’re all legally appointed officials here, except for the trillionaires. Did you know cows recognise one another?

John got mad.

They kept calling his team a cult, so he said, let's be a cult, all in on the doomsday.

Before, when it started, I’d tried to use all these scientific terms—tried to coin phthinergy,(3) talk about a word that needed an antihistamine. I’d tried to make out like everything I was doing had principles I was probably going to write papers on later. I dropped all that, because turns out nobody wants papers, nobody wants principles. They want the magic bullet. They just want to be saved. He said, I told them I’d save them. And I said, I’m a necromancer.(4)

=====

(1) "For every one that doth evil hateth the light, and cometh not to the light, that his works may not be reproved." It's part of the sequence of the "For God so loved the world" speech. God gave the world his only son, that they might believe in him, and he might die for their sins, and they all might be saved. Those who believe are not judged, and those who do not believe are judged for not believing. And in the A1Z26 sequence, we're up to "THE TOWER HAS REACT-" so one can probably make a reasonable and educated guess as to what remaining letters might say even if you don't peek ahead and do the math yourself. (2) Narratively, the surest sign you're going to have to do something is to say you don't want to. (3) The "phthin" root appears to be a word that means wasting as in wasting away from illness. Derivatives were often used in history to talk about tuberculosis. (4) No going back now, though I'm not sure what difference this will really make this late. (Well, technically I *do*, but I'm pretending I don't. The magic of acting.)