#Our jokes push back against that stack of hate

[mywifeymax]

Just Us (Sam winchester x Femreader) Oneshot

Desperation - Y/n get saved by Sam when a demon try to attack her she thank him but also feels some kind of deep connection with Sam which leads into her getting to know him

Y/n pov:

*I yawn as I entered the bathroom as I brushed my teeth and my hair before going back to my room as I grab out a white T-shirt with a band logo on it and some jeans and I put it on before grabbing my jacket and slip it on I then pin half of my hair back and left the button half down and put on my boots and grab my bag*

*Getting back to my dorm I took off my jacket but stop when I heard a sound in my living room* "Hello"I called out but got no reply *opening my bedroom door I walked out of the room and saw a figure in the doorway* "Can I help you with something?"I asked

*Suddenly it turned around and had black eyes and I scream when it threw it self at me and I try pushing it off* "Don't worry it be all over soon"It said *I shut my eyes as it was about the slit my throat but I felt nothing and open my eyes to see a taller guy and a shorter guy holding the demon back as the taller one speak in some Latin language sitting up I stared up at the two*

*I watch as some black smokey thing went up in the air and out of the window and the taller one put his hand out and I took it as he helped me up* "Are you okay?"He asked "Yeah I just hit my head a little but what was that?"I asked "A black eyed demon"The shorter one spoke *I looked at him and then back at the taller one* "Who are you guys?"I asked "I am Sam this is Dean my brother"The taller one said "Nice to meet you"I said to them "You too"Dean said with a smirk

"Wait but why was this demon after me?"I asked "There some demons that like to kill for no reason they are the lower level demons"Sam said "Hate to break this up but I'm starving so im gonna go get me a burger"Dean said *Both me and Sam said okay as Dean left my apartment*

"So what do you major?"Sam asked "law"I said "No way I did too for a long period of time"Sam said *I smile* "I want to be a lawyer but ugh the studying is so hard"I said "Right like it was just stacks of paper after papers"Sam said *I smiled* "What made you quite law school?"I asked "Family business"Sam said *I nodded* "Yeah family issues can suck"I said "Tell me about it"Sam said for some reason I felt this connection with sam

*getting up I grab two beers out of the fridge and came back and gave one to sam as we open it and talked about our interest in stuff* "Your different y/n"Sam said with a smile "How so?"I asked "Just are I mean I feel this weird connection between us it's kinda hard to explain it"Sam said

*As Sam said that our eyes locked on eachother as we moved closer to each other Sam lean in and slowly pressed his softly lips against and kiss me I shut mine as well matching his rtythem of speed in the kiss*

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

*After awhile Dean came back and talk about how good his burger was I made a few jokes before walking the brothers out to the door* "I want to say thank you again if it wasn't for you two I would be dead right now"I said

*Dean smiled at Sam before walking to the car and getting in and Sam turned towards me* "I'm not really supposed to do this but keep me in touch alright I like you alot and I want to know more about you Y/n"Sam said as he handed me a card *As I was about to close the door Sam stopped it and lean in to kiss me once again as I kissed him back* "I'll make sure to visit but uh remember stay in contact"Sam said *I smiled* "I will"I said

-The end-

[shipsgaysfordays]

The Beginnings of The Great Prank War of 1976

(This is a precursor to the microfic that I wrote last summer called Olive Branch) 928 words, uses the prompt word towel for @wolfstarmicrofic

Also, I feel like I haven’t said this enough the past while, so fuck JKR and her transphobic hateful bullshit

Oh and this has genderfluid Sirius so the quick changing pronouns are purposeful

The gang’s all sitting around the warm common room on the first cold day of the fall, Sirius sprawled out on a couch waiting for Moony, Mary and Peter to come back from studying. James, Lily, Marlene, and zem playing a good old fashioned game of cards. 

Everything going perfectly to plan, the trap set, Sirius would get the glory of victory, until:

“We should start a prank war,” James said with a smile. 

“A prank war?” Marlene raised her eyebrow. 

“A prank war,” James nodded with a giddy grin. 

“And where do we draw the line, who’s on which side?” Lily questioned. 

“Well obviously I’ve got you, right Padfoot?” James nudged them in the shoulder. 

“Of course,” Sirius placed down a red 3. 

“And if I have Padfoot then I must have Moony,” the boy spoke with the satisfaction of having come up with a game where he would of course win. 

“Now don’t go deciding things for Remus, he’s his own man,” Marlene started as the door swung open. 

“Who’s deciding things for me now?” Remus asked, walking in and placing his stack of books on a random table, “my lovely partner in crime or the criminal only known as Prongs? It can't be the only reasonable person here, don’t tell me Lily’s making decisions for me now, can’t be living a reasonable life.”

“James is saying that since Sirius’ your partner that you’ll join their team for the prank war–” Lily started.

Mary groaned, “There’s a prank war now! Oh fuck off, I thought I was finally gonna improve my studies. Here you blokes go, stealing the best teacher in Hogwarts.” 

“Minnie’s on our side now!” Sirius spoke in awe with eyes as wide as the moon, she turned to James and gave him a high five. 

“It may be better if you guys just throw in the towel now,” James eyes Lily. 

Lily turns away, “Remus, you can’t join their team.”

“Oh, why not?”

“Come on Rem, you’ve shared a dorm room with those idiots for years, you’ve got to be holding some grudge against them,” Marlene switched her voice to a deeper more ghoulish joking tone, “join the dark side, let your evil spark out. I can see the crazy behind your eyes Remus, join us.” 

“Convincing speech, I need to think over my options,” Remus put his hand to his chin, tapping on his cheek, in obviously very deep thought. 

James held Sirius by the shoulders, “We’re losin’ him, get in their soldier!” He proceeded to push Sirius off the couch, the dude stumbled on their feet before returning to the confident stride over to Remus. 

“Moony,” she took his hands.

“Yes?” Remus spoke as a question, a taunt, how are you gonna convince me? 

Sirius kissed Remus’ cheek, and then spoke softly into his ear, “Join us and I’ll read to you while you hold me, whatever story you want. Oh,” he kissed his cheek again, “and I’ll kiss you…wherever-you-want.”

Remus’ face was burning as hot as a fire in the desert. 

“Fucking unfair,” Marlene grumbled in her chair. 

Lily nodded, “Such bribery shouldn’t be tolerated, remember Remus, all’s fair in love and war. Don’t let some stupid gray eyes convince you otherwise!” 

Lily, Marlene, and Mary whispered amongst themselves, after putting their heads together (seemingly a lot of Mary and Marlene telling Lily to do something) they came to a deal. 

“I’ve got an offer for you oh friend, oh buddy of mine,” Lily spoke with a shit eating grin. 

“You think you can top Sirius’ offer?”

“Anyone can top Sirius,” Peter interjected as he shuffled some cards.

“Not true! I give my heart out to few and even then, lust and love are quite separate,” Sirius said with somewhat fake offense. 

Mary looked through Lily’s bag, papers upon papers of notes. 

“I’ll lend you my potions notes,” Lily said with a smile.

Remus looked back to his fellow marauders. 

James smiling, thinking he’s won, and Sirius looking just a bit more concerned. 

“I’m on Lily’s team,” Remus spoke quickly. 

“What was that?” Marlene put a hand to her ear just as James screamed, “WHAT?”

“I’m. On. Lily’s. Team.”

“My heart has shattered, broken into a million pieces, such betrayal. I can’t believe this Moony, I know Padfoot feels the same, they just can’t think of the words to say it,” James monologued dramatically next to a gaping Sirius. 

“We better see about getting Minnie or Reg on our side,” Peter quipped. 

“All of us know that they would rather join our team rather than a group of delinquents,” Mary smiled.  

“Time for the uphill battle of a century I guess, my friend,” James patted Sirius on the shoulder, his friend still gaping. 

“Notes…he chose notes,” Sirius spoke, bewildered. 

“He’s got priorities,” Lily, the devil now in Sirius’ eyes, butted in. 

“HE CHOSE NOTES OVER ME,” as Sirius yelled, laughter filled the room. They caught eyes with the boy in question, staring him down with fire in her eyes, “this means war, Lupin.” 

“Yeah that’s kinda what we’ve been talking about this whole time,” Peter muttered, “a prank war.”

Eventually, after lots and lots of whining on account of not having enough people on their side, Sirius, James, and Peter did get some more members on their team. 

Within the declaration of war it was Team We’re Better Than Those Guys (James, Sirius, Peter, and Marlene–who deserted to this side after a certain member of the opposing team started bashing quidditch)  versus Team Intelligent (Lily, Mary, Remus, and Regulus).

[firefly-in-darkness]

Separation, Connection - [1/2]

Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent.

Word Count → 2.3k

SSB2021 Square Fill → “God I hate you” - @star-spangled-bingo

AFG Square Fill  → “What the fuck am I seeing?” @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Swearing

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This one was sitting in my WIPs folder for ages, and after brainstorming with @writethelifeyouwant, this 2 parter was finished! Ps. I know I haven’t updated Worst Idea Ever in a while and I’m sorry - I’m just very stuck with it atm, the plot and majority of the story is planned out, I just can’t seem to fill in the blanks.

Firefly’s Masterlist

You and Bucky were close, and there was that little thin line between friendship and something more. Nothing had happened but, god, you had wanted it to. The secret crush you harboured for your teammate, your friend, had only grown over the years. Everyone thought you would be good together, commenting on how well you got along, that friendship was an important part of a relationship. Both of you rolling your eyes and laughing at their comments.

When you finally gathered the courage to tell him how you felt, you saw him with someone else. They were at the back of the training facility; the team were in a simulation of a terrorist attack on Paris and once the time on the training session was called, you stumbled across them.

They were just out of sight, hidden in a dark corner. And it wasn’t just a casual embrace. They were having sex, he was fucking her, hard, up against a wall. You froze at the sight of his bare bottom clenching with each thrust and the blissed-out look on her face. What the fuck am I seeing?! Heart shattered, you fled from the room without a sound, not wanting to disturb them or for anyone to see you crying.

It hurt too much to be as close to him after that, you consciously decided to withdraw from the friendship. Not going straight to him when entering a room or staying in bed instead of heading to the rooftop where you’d usually wander at five in the morning to talk with Bucky, putting the world to right.

And of course, Bucky noticed. It had been a week since you had joined him for a midnight chat in the kitchen. He was missing his best friend. He wanted to share his life with her, and she was nowhere to be seen unless someone else was in the room. 

Bucky knew it was a bad sign when you chose to sit next to Wanda, not sandwiched between him and Nat, on movie night. He felt alone in a room full of friends, as they watched a film about a love triangle set in England. It was supposed to be funny, but Bucky didn’t hear the jokes, let alone the punchlines. 

Nat had realised something was wrong too. She saw the dark circles under your eyes when you drained the coffee from the cup in the morning and the puffy redness from crying in the middle of the day. She had detested the way you and Bucky were before, it was like a pair of magnets drawn together, a connected ribbon, a gravitational pull. But now? Well, you were repelling within a few meters of one another, and she hated that even more.

“What did you do, Barnes?” Nat whispered harshly, eyes still on the film.

“Nothing.” Bucky looked over to you, sleeping with your head resting on Wanda’s lap.

“So why is Wanda looking at you like that?” She raised an eyebrow.

Bucky lifted his gaze, saw the fiery red eyes staring back at him as she stroked your hair, a soft red mist falling over you. He frowned at the Sokovian and tried to talk telepathically but she shook her head and looked back at the television.

On autopilot, you ran from your room to his bedroom door, knocking until the screams died down. Long ago, you’d learnt to not enter the room until he’d settled down, had the bruises to your neck and dealt with the guilt-ridden expression on Bucky’s face for weeks.

Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear Bucky moving about and slowly pushed it open so as not to startle him. A soft glow from the lamp at his bedside welcomed you in, he'd stacked his pillows against the headboard with his knees drawn up and resting his head in his hands.

“Hi, Buck. It’s me.” You spoke softly, his head and eyes shot up to meet yours.

You walked over and sat at the end of the bed, averting your eyes to the floor and fingers fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for him to respond.

“What did I do doll?” He croaked, fingers running through his hair, his knees dropping down.

Your heart raced and you were certain he could hear the harsh thumps, but your voice remained steady, “It's nothing, just need a little time to process some things.”

“You normally come to me. What's different?” His voice was strained, thick with distress.

Standing up, you walked towards the window, arms wrapped tightly around your torso. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you remained focused on the navy sky fading to blues and oranges with the sunrise.

“I can't this time Buck, I need space. I need space from you.” With each word, your heart fractured along the lines you’d attempted to piece together with being away from him.

“Get out then, just leave me alone.” His tone was now harsh, stronger than before.

“God, I hate you.” Without a final glance, you left the room. Your heart in tatters once more.

Once in the safety of your room, the sob heaved out of you. Bucky had disregarded you so easily, he let you go without a second thought. And you didn’t know what was worse; what you saw a week ago or what he just said.

Bucky finished his 76th lap when someone caught his eye. It was you. His best friend. The one he stupidly let go of. It had been three months since he'd told you to leave, and you hadn't gone back on his word.

Of course, Bucky was just as stubborn and hadn't approached you unless it was work-related. But there was something different about you. His eyes focused on the man you were standing with, and how you glowed, and Bucky just couldn't stand that you were feeling that way about a random recruit and not him.

“She used to look at you that way.” Wanda’s voice echoed in his head.

He scanned the field and found her figure leaning against a tree, shading herself from the summer sun and a book in hand. Bucky grabbed the small towel and wiped away the sweat, swigging his water bottle, then joined her on the grass.

“What are you talking about? She’s never looked at me like that.” He gestured towards you and the agent.

Wanda chuckled and shook her head, “You're not blind, or stupid, Bucky, she adored you. Still does, even though I wish she would get over you.”

His brow creased. “She wanted space, ended our friendship.” 

Wanda’s eyes flashed red, “And you broke her heart.” 

“Show me.” Bucky held out his hand, pleading with her, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I can’t Bucky. It's private, she would never forgive me.” Wanda shook her head and placed her book in her lap, “I've seen what she's done to you, I'm not going to lose her too.”

Bucky sprang to his feet and kicked at the grass. “Then just tell me what you know. Just something?” He turned to face you, hands on his hips as he tried to think of what he’d done.

“Paris terrorist simulation,” Wanda stated without emotion.

Bucky turned around, seeing nothing but a neutral expression on her face. The simulation had been a success, the whole team had done well but he hadn’t seen you at the debriefing. Steve said you were exhausted and needed to rest. 

“What about it?” asked Bucky.

“Don't deny it. I saw it, I felt it. She had no chance of blocking me from that pain.” Wanda stood up, eyes flickering red, “you and that agent. I thought you were better than that Bucky.”

“Shit.” 

Bucky knew exactly what Wanda had meant before she explained. Shame coursed through him; he'd broken your trust by not telling you about the agent he’d been hooking up with. Honestly, he didn't want you to know, didn't want you to judge him for the flings he had. Subconsciously, he knew that was what your distancing was about because he hadn't seen her again or hooked up with anyone since.

All he wanted was you back in his life; he was going to make it happen.

Wanda smirked, shaking her head before walking ahead of him, “Best get a move on Barnes, she’s not thinking of him in a platonic way.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he strutted towards you, determined to get you back.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and he could only hope you still felt the same way.

You couldn’t believe Bucky dared to pull rank on you in front of another agent. That he had the gall to do such a thing after he told you to leave him alone, how he betrayed your trust as a friend and unknowingly broke your heart.

You stormed down the blurry corridors as anger took the form of tears. Your whole body tense and determined to get away from the assassin on your tail. People parted like the sea as they saw your strut and scowl, you scoffed at their reaction and thought, this must be what it’s like to be Bucky on a mission. Using it to your advantage, you managed to pull someone by the arm and into the path of the Winter Soldier.

While you sprinted away, you glanced back and spotted Bucky helping the woman to her feet, apologising profusely and then realising it was the agent you had caught him with. Your blood boiled as you pushed through the door to the stairwell, it slammed against the wall and probably damaged it, but you didn’t care anymore.

It wasn’t until the breeze hit your face that you realised where you were. You’d come to the rooftop, the exact spot that you’d air all your worries with Bucky. It was the place you’d first bonded outside of the team. 

A hand dragged down your face and your shoulders slumped. You spun on your heel, ready to escape when you stopped short. There he was, blocking the doorway. You groaned, of course, he knew exactly where you’d go even before you did.

“I just want to talk.” Bucky quietly spoke, a hint of a question in his tone but a statement all the same.

“I’ll scale down the side of this building if I have to.” You stepped back towards the edge.

Bucky growled and walked towards you, ���would you quit being so stubborn and dramatic for one second?”

“Just leave me alone.” You threw his own words back at him, stopping him in his tracks.

At that moment, you could see that Bucky realised how hurtful those words were, but you weren’t going to console him anytime soon. He should suffer for how he spoke to you and for never attempting to speak to you until now.

Bucky slowly circled you towards the edge, his eyes focused on you while you turned in tandem following his moves. He reached the railing then settled down into a seated position, legs hanging over the side, his chest against the metal pole.

“Are you going to join me?” Bucky’s gaze now on the horizon.

With a roll of your eyes, you sat beside him, but at least a metre apart, you couldn’t get that close to him. He was too intoxicating, and your emotions were incredibly high, even if they were full of anger and hurt, and you didn’t trust yourself not to succumb to his charm.

“Are you going to talk then?” You sassed back at him.

“I’m sorry for what you saw. You shouldn’t have seen that.” Bucky didn’t hold back, “I was going to tell you, I just thought you’d judge me.”

“I’d judge you. For sleeping with a colleague. In the middle of a training simulation?” You scoffed, “You didn’t tell me about her. Or anyone else for that matter. Natasha filled me in on all your little late night rendezvous when I was on missions.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Bucky knew he’d not win this conversation and scrambled to bring it back onto his side, “you were away, and I needed something, someone.”

“So, you used them and used me too?” You glared at him.

“That’s not what I said,” Bucky seethed, annoyed at the way you were twisting his words but not surprised with the pain you felt. 

You continued, ignoring his comment, unable to stop the words falling from your lips, “I gave you emotional support. Watched you cry yourself to sleep after a nightmare, held your hand when you had a panic attack during a mission.” You shook your head at him, “I just wasn’t good enough for the sex part.”

Bucky held your chin and pulled your face to look at him, “You mean more to me than that. I just didn’t know how you felt. If I’d had known-”

You jerked away from his touch, it felt too nice, it felt like home, but you weren’t ready to fall back into this friendship. He knew how you felt, and you weren’t ready for his rejection. You still needed your space.

Swiftly, you returned to your feet, brushing down your trousers and hands, “Thank you for your apology, but I can’t forgive you.”

Bucky stood up and watched you begin to leave, “I’ll do my best to make you see how much you mean to me.”

You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.

Continue Here...

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes / @selfsun

strike through - unable to tag.

[phykios]

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

1)

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12). 

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog. 

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation. 

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.” 

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut. 

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door. 

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass. 

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other. 

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.” 

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets. 

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…” 

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks. 

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.” 

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up. 

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…” 

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements. 

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.” 

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.” 

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?” 

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun. 

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.” 

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.” 

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response. 

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?” 

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.” 

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper. 

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise. 

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!” 

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” 

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release. 

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all. 

2)

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene. 

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says. 

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…” 

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea. 

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?” 

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--” 

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much. 

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.” 

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit. 

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses. 

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles. 

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door. 

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen. 

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

3)

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom. 

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street. 

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing. 

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things. 

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.” 

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else? 

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Who are you working with?” 

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question. 

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?” 

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand. 

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks. 

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.” 

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile. 

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice. 

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…” 

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared. 

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear. 

Annabeth, behind him, coughs. 

“S-sure. No problem.” 

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him. 

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend? 

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice. 

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far. 

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?” 

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps. 

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly. 

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…” 

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?” 

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps. 

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock. 

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before. 

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his. 

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could. 

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.” 

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.  

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today. 

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor. 

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit. 

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision. 

4) 

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…” 

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.” 

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him. 

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together. 

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together. 

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all. 

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time. 

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him? 

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode. 

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes. 

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust. 

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner. 

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. 

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks. 

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops. 

He squints at one of his doodles. 

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar. 

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books. 

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response. 

Percy approaches the table. 

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra. 

Percy picks up the book, squinting. 

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself. 

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares. 

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look. 

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?” 

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness. 

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch! 

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth. 

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?” 

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance. 

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes. 

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

5)

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?” 

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes. 

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask? 

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.” 

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says. 

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.” 

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.” 

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head. 

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21. 

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music? 

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth. 

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly. 

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill. 

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it. 

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…” 

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

+1

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake. 

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window. 

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos. 

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.” 

Jamie looks up. 

There’s a four year old staring at her. 

“Hi,” Jamie says. 

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks. 

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her. 

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.” 

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.” 

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit. 

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him. 

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin. 

She really should have just stuck with German instead. 

[annoyingstupidmiracle]

Frat Boy- l.r.h.

CONTAINS SMUT...OBVIOUSLYY

Word Count: 2813

I hope y’all enjoy ;) Lmk what you think, and I DO accept requests!!!

I sighed while thumbing through the stack of papers on the desk that were waiting to be completed. I was currently working on physics- my worst subject. As soon as I began to work, a crowd of voices entered the room. Turning around, I encountered my sorority sisters who were all laughing. Yeah, I’m a sorority girl. We’re all apart of Alpha Phi, the hot girls who did well in their classes, but didn’t choose the big majors, and we partied... a lot. Which is exactly why I’m having trouble with my subjects, because I had gone to class hungover from the Frat party we went to last week. 

“I heard there’s a Frat party tonight.” One of the girls, Leah, said to the group. I instantly stopped writing and listened in on the conversation.

“Yeah, isn’t it at Alpha Delta?” Another girl asked. My heart instantly dropped. There had been one of the frat boys that shared nearly every class with me, which was another reason I hadn’t been able to get all of my work done. He was the most attractive person I had ever seen, and I couldn’t concentrate around him. 

Checking the time, I silently cursed to myself. My last class of the day started in nearly 15 minutes, which also happens to be one of the classes I share with the Adonis. I shoved my earbuds in my ears and gathered my textbooks before exiting the house. I hurried across campus to the correct building, just when the door swung open, knocking me back and causing the books to drop from my arms to the ground. Stumbling, I tore the earbuds from my ears and went to yell at the person who was in such a hurry to leave the building but came up speechless as my eyes met the blue ones of the special frat boy, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. 

“(y/n)?” He spoke causing my mouth to run dry. My heartbeat harshly in my chest as I stared at him. 

“H-How do you know my name?” I asked finally after moments of silence.

“We have pretty much every class together, you know?” I nodded, still allowing my eyes to bore into his. “And I see you at all the parties.”

“Yeah, my sorority sisters make me go.”

“Ah, not a partier then?”

I shrug. “Depends on my mood, I guess.” He smiles at my response before crouching down to gather my textbooks. 

“Well, then I hope I can put you in the mood to come to my frat’s party tonight?”

“We’ll see,” I say with a smirk, finally gaining my confidence back.

“We will.” He replies, smiling back at me. He stood back up and extended his arms that held my books in them. I pulled them into my chest and watched as he opened the door for me to enter. I decided to sit myself in the middle row so I didn’t drag too much attention to myself, but just enough so that the professor will think I’m listening enough to not call on me. 

The door of the classroom opened again, and a loud laugh followed. There, entering the building was Calum Hood. Another frat boy, who was also part of the same frat as the pretty blonde boy across the room. They walked up to one another, joking around and shoving one another in the isle of seats. I was pushed out of my daze by a hand squeezing my upper arm. 

“See something you like- or should I say someone?” I turned around and met the mischievous eyes of Ashton Irwin, my sorority sister Leah’s, boyfriend. 

“Shut the hell up.” I grumbled. 

“I hear his frat is having a party tonight.”

I nod, gulping at the thought. “Yeah, they are. What’s it to you?”

“Leah told me. She also told me that you have the hots for-” Before he could say anything further, I cupped a hand over his mouth.

“I swear, if you ruin this-” I was cut off by him licking the palm of my hand causing me to move it away from him. “You’re disgusting.”

“Not as disgusting as the sex you’re-”

“What about sex?” A perky voice questioned while plopping in the seat beside me. I groaned, turning to who I already knew was Michael. 

“You guys are going to ruin this for me.”

“Ruin what exactly?” Mikey asked. Ashton nodded his head over at the blonde who was talking to Calum. 

“Miss (y/n) has a crush on our boy Luke.” I let my head fall into my hands and sighed. 

“I don’t have a crush on him. I just- think he’d look good like... I don’t know. In my bed?”

Mikey laughed. “And your car, and in the shower-” 

“Okay, okay. Can you guys please stop giving me shit?” I begged.

“Alright, students!” A loud voice boomed through the room. We all stopped our conversations and faced the professor. “Today, we’re learning about the reproductive system!” Ah, right, anatomy. Of course, it had to be today that we learned how the penis ejaculates.

*

I ran my fingers through my now curled (h/c) hair as I stared at my makeup that Leah had done for me. She sat back with her arms crossed and a smirk spread across her face. “Well, don’t you look hotter than before.”

I laughed, “thanks. I’m fucking nervous.”

“Babe, Luke won’t be able to control himself. You know how he is.” I sighed. Yeah, Luke was the type to get around on campus. That’s why I hated myself for having growing feelings for the guy. I usually avoided going to the same parties as him, but I couldn’t avoid the sexual tension for long. I used to tutor him, our sophomore year, it took everything in me not to drop on my knees. He had me weak every time I saw him. Everyone could see it, hell, I think he could too. 

“You really think so?”

“Have you not heard the things he’s said about you?” I shook my head. “Well, maybe if you didn’t have your earbuds in your ears all the damn time, you’d know.”

I blushed at her words and stood up, finally ready. I had fishnet tights over my legs along with a tight black dress that stopped barely midthigh. Platform heels decorated my feet and strapped up my ankles. Along with it all, I decided against any sort of undergarments in hopes that I’d get lucky with a specific hot blonde. 

“Alright, I’m ready.” Leah grinned and dragged me out the door. We walked for a few minutes along the sidewalk in the cool October air until we finally met with the huge fraternity. They had a huge sheet with spray painted Greek lettering on it in order to stick out to everyone attending the party. The sun had already set and people were walking up the path to the double doors of the house. Ashton was waiting, leaning against one of the pillars of the house while chatting with Michael and Calum. I gulped, squeezing the arm of Leah who gave me a reassuring look.

“You’ll be fine, just go in and take a few shots.” I nodded and followed her up to the boys.

“Ah, you actually came!” Calum cheered while staring at me.

“Me?” I asked.

“Yeah, Luke said he invited you.” He said with a grin. “You look good, by the way.” And with that, he walked inside. Leah looked over at me and smirked.

“I told you they think you’re hot.” She says while elbowing my side. I giggled and rolled my eyes. 

“Alright, Mikey. Come in and take some shots with me.”

“You convinced me. Let’s go.”

We walked inside and were instantly met with the dank smell of weed and booze. I took a deep breath in order to get used to the smell and looked around. I seemed to be one of very few girls who decided to dress like this for a party, but I didn’t mind. Eyes trailed behind me as I walked, and I loved it. One of the many perks of being apart of Alpha Phi.

“Damn, (y/n), you’re like a fucking celebrity.” Mikey joked while nudging me. I finally reached the alcohol and poured us each a shot of some Pink Whitney. We clinked our glasses together and threw our heads back, letting the harsh liquid flow down our throats. I clenched my eyes together, shaking my head. 

“Alright, another one.” Mikey grabbed the bottle, laughing at my words as he poured the alcohol into the small glass. With another tilt of my head, my second shot was down then a third and a fourth only minutes later.

“(y/n)?” I turned around towards the voice and met with Luke who stood there with an unopened beer in his hand. 

“And that’s my queue to leave.” Mikey said while walking away.

“I came.” I told him while gesturing to myself.

“Yeah, you look hot.” He compliments, eyeing my form a few times to take in my appearance.

I swallowed my pride and smiled at him, “so do you.”

Luke seemed to think for a second before speaking. “Do you want to grab a beer and go out on the balcony with me?” He asked, shocking me.

“I, uh, yeah. Sure.” Bending down into the cooler, I felt his eyes on me the entire time. I smirked, wrapping my hands around a cold can and stood back up. He reached out to grab my hand and lead me through the large crowd of people up the stairs. There were a few straggling drunks in the hallway of the second story, but no one that was watching as he took me out the double doors of the balcony. I cracked open the can and sipped on the beer nervously, waiting to see what his plan was.

“So, is this the part where you kill me?” I joke while watching as he popped his can open as well.

“Actually, it’s the part where I tell you what I want to do to you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said, I just wanted to talk.” What the fuck am I thinking? Nodding, I allowed him to go on. “I wanted to hang out with you alone, but a party is fine too.”

“Mhm,” I mumble against the cold can of beer against my lips. Luke seemed to let his eyes trail down my legs covered in the lacey material before throwing his head back.

“Fuck the small talk.”

“What do you-“ Before I could finish my sentence, he had taken three intimidating steps towards me and cupped my cheek in his hand, pressing his lips against mine. My heartbeat sped up, and my stomach flipped as well. I didn’t hesitate to let my free hand tangle in the back of his hair, pulling at the ends. He groaned against my lips before eventually pulling away. Looking down into my eyes, he searched them for some sort of reaction. I blinked innocently up at the frat boy and smiled.

“I can’t get your gorgeous face out of my head, (y/n).”

“Thank god.” He cocked his head in confusion, so I elaborated. I took a few chugs of my beer before finishing it and tossing the can to the ground. “I really, really want you.”

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He nearly growls under his breath before grabbing my wrist and taking me back inside to what I’m assuming is his bedroom. Without another word, he closed and locked the door behind me before pressing me against it. I gasped with surprise but felt nothing but pleasure as he lifted me up by my thighs and carried me over to the bed. I plopped down onto the mattress and watched as he tore his shirt from his body and discarded it to the side.

Luke curled his fingers around the edge of my dress and pulled it up over my waist. I stared at him to get his reaction when he notices- “You’re not wearing any… Did you expect this to happen?” He questioned with a laugh.

I nodded, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth. “I hoped it would.”

“With me?” I nodded again. His eyes flickered down to my womanhood before starting to pull down my tights. One they were down my legs, he looked back up at me and put two fingers between his lips, letting his spit drench them before inserting them inside of me. I jerked upwards, leaning up on my elbows as my mouth fell open in an ‘o.’ “You like that?”

“Mhm, yeah.” I moaned causing him to thrust them in and out of me. I allowed myself to relax as I grew wetter by the second. After a few seconds, he added his mouth which only made me moan louder. His tongue flattened against my clit, circling around it in a pattern that drew me close to the edge. He was amazing with his mouth. “L-Luke, please.” I begged, but he didn’t stop. Although I wanted to cum around him, I couldn’t help it. He wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked while curling his fingers inside of me. My chest heaved up and down as my thighs attempted to clench together while my climax approached. He used his free hand to keep my legs from closing and felt as they shook at his touch. “Fuck!” I screamed out. He chuckled against me before sitting up and pushing me farther on the bed. With quick hands, he pulled my dress over my head and stared at my chest.

“No bra either?” I smiled cheekily up at him before his hands came down and groped my breasts. I reached down and unbuttoned his jeans before sliding them down his legs revealing his name brand boxers. I nearly drooled at the size of the bulge before palming him through the thin material. Carefully, I pulled his member out and pumped him a few times. “God, your hands feel so good.”

“I bet my mouth would feel better.” I say confidently. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised as I switched my position so that I was sitting up. I parted my lips enough to allow him to slide in my mouth. I dragged my lips down to his shaft, my nose brushing against the happy trail against his navel. Groaning, Luke tangled his hand in my hair, pushing my head down slightly. The tip brushed the back of my throat, allowing for more spit to lubricate his member. I pulled off him and looked up.

“I know what would feel even better.” Luke says before pushing my shoulders back against the bed, pinning me underneath him. Spreading my legs, I waited for him to slide past my entrance and let an erotic moan erupt from my throat as he did. “Yeah, much better.”

“Please,” I whined.

“Please what?” Luke smirked. He knew what he was doing.

“Please fuck me, Luke. I need you so bad.” And with that, he slammed himself in me all the way. Our moans filled the room as well as the sound of skin slapping together. I lifted one of my legs up and rested it on his shoulder as he pounded in and out of me. My back arched against the mattress as my nails scratched the skin on his back, clearly leaving marks. Without warning, he pulled out of me.

“If I go any longer, I’ll bust so hang on.” I laughed at his words and waited for him to grab a condom. Once he did, he slid it over him and lined himself back up with my entrance. Grabbing the backs of my thighs, he held onto them as he began to slam himself in and out of me constantly, and roughly. I reached a hang down between my legs and rubbed at my clit to get myself closer to the edge, knowing he was close as well.

“Fuck, you’re so big.” I whimper. Luke chuckles and spreads my legs even wider, hiking them over his shoulders before leaning down against me. His lips latched onto mine, getting me closer to my orgasm. My body begins to shake as I reach my second climax of the night, feeling him twitch inside me as he reaches his as well.

“Good fucking girl.” Luke growled, watching me writhe beneath him. I breathed out, finally able to catch my breath and looked at the blonde through tired eyes.

“I thought you were good in bed, but not that good.” I admitted causing him to chuckle.

“Glad to meet your expectations.” After throwing away the condom, he pulled his pants back over his legs and tossed me a clean shirt that was neatly folded on the nightstand. I looked at him with confusion.

“What’s this for?”

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere tonight- or for a while.”

Laughing, I slid the shirt over my head so that it draped over my bare torso. “So, that means what exactly?”

“I’m gonna make you mine, whether you like it or not.”

“Not complaining.”

[a-write-for-soreeyes]

Making Bets | Seo-Joon [True Beauty] x Gender Neutral!Reader

summary: making bets with your boyfriend Seo-Joon was NEVER a good idea, but when a no kiss bet with a promise of a week of dates comes up, how could you refuse?

word count: 2280

a/n: sorry i’ve been so absent! it’s been really hard to finish writing anything i’ve started recently but i’ve got something in the works i hope you all enjoy! :D <3

———————————————-

Making bets with Han Seo-joon was never a good idea. But, when the prize was a full week where the winner gets to choose a week of dates… how could I say no.

“y/n I don’t get why you said yes to this bet, we all know you can’t even last through first period without a kiss from Seo-joon.” Soo-a said as she cuddled further into Tae-hoon’ side on the bench across the lunch table, “yah, we all know you guys are all over each other whenever possible,” Tae-hoon groaned out leaning his head on Soo-a’, “speak of the devil.” looking up from shuffling food around my tray I saw Seo-joon approaching the table trailing just behind Ju-kyung and Soo-ho’s linked arm forms looking a little more than disgruntled at the couple walking in front of him.

“Hello love birds, how nice of you to grace us with your presence on this fine monday morning.” Tae-hoon teased as the other couple sat next to me, Seo-joon taking the last spot to the right of Soo-a, across from me.

“What Seo-joon, not going to kiss your partner hello?” Soo-ho joked as he kissed Ju-Kyung’ cheek before picking food up from his plate and feeding her.

“Morning.” Seo-joon whispered, barely sparing me a glance before looking back at his tray. “Morning babe.” I whispered back.

“So y/n...I heard you and Seo-joon made a bet over the weekend. What’s up with that?” Ju-Kyung asked pushing her hair over her shoulder and turning my way, “oh,” clearing my throat, “Well, Seo-joon's friends were complaining over the weekend about how much we kiss each other in front of them, so we decided to make a bet on how long we could go without kissing each other, and whoever caves in first loses. But, the winner gets to decide a full week of dates the loser has to pay for.” I stated.

“OOO! That sounds fun! We both know you guys though, and we know you both wont last 3 days!” Soo-a joked, causing the rest of the table to laugh, “what plans do you have to win?” she continued.

“Well, I’m not sure to be honest,” I chuckled running a stressed hand through my hair, “I think I’m just going to try and focus on something else other than kissing him, even though that’s going to be hard.” I said laughing a little, sticking my tongue out at Seo-joon just to tease him.

“Well if you need any help y/n just let us know, Ju-kyung and I would be happy to help!” Soo-a said, as everyone returned to their lunches.

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

“y/n it’s been 2 days and you’re already starting to annoy us with all your whining about missing your ‘sweet precious Seo-joon’” Soo-jin joked, making a silly whiny voice at the end causing the other girls around the table with us to laugh at her terrible impression of me.

“Ya Soo-ho has been telling me about how annoying Seon-joon has been about this whole bet thing and he’s just about ready to kill him.” Ju-kyung laughed.

Sighing I took a sip of my milkshake, “I know, we’re so annoying but I don’t know what to do, I really miss him, but I don’t want to have to pay for all the dates we’d be going on.”

“Well why don’t you try to seduce him?” Soo-jin started, “I mean you’re closing at your work tomorrow right? Why don’t you invite him over for a late night swim after you close? I mean your boss shouldn’t mind if you don’t tell them right?”

“That’s,,,that’s not a bad idea Soo-jin.”

“Ya! And you can ask him tomorrow at school in front of all his friends! He’d be crazy to say no in front of them! especially to a makeout session in a pool!” Ju-Kyung reasoned, Soo-a shaking her head in agreement at our master plan.

“Alright then! Tomorrow at school.” I stated, taking the last sip of my milkshake.

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

“Hey baby.” I said walking right up to Seo-joon in the hallway, effectively stopping Seo-joon and his posse in their tracks.

“Oh, uhh, hey honey, how’s it going?” Seo-joon said, startled by my sudden appearance in front of him.

“Hey y/n!” one of Seo-joons friends said cheerfully. Paying his friend no mind I started to lean in closer to Seo-joon, causing him to lean his head back to avoid mine.

“So listen, I was thinking about going swimming at my work later? My boss is letting me close alone tonight since I’ve got the late shift?” I said leaning in closer with each sentence. Looking into Seo-joon's widened eyes at my statement.

Hearing his friends muffled laughing from behind him, he cleared his throat composing himself, “thanks for the offer baby but uh- i'm busy tonight.” he said hurriedly, before pushing past me and making his way into the classroom behind us, sitting at his desk hiding his flushed face and trying to ignore his friends teasing.

Looking over to Soo-a and Ju-Kyung I shook my head. Soo-a's expression turned to one of disappointment and Ju-Kyung letting out a hufft that our plan hadn’t worked.

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

“Soo-aaaaaa, our plan didn’t wooorrrrkk.” I whined, placing my head on my hand and leaning against the lunch table, “I don’t know what I'm supposed to do anymore, it’s been 6 days and I miss him.”

“y/n dude we know you miss him but you gotta stop talking about how much you miss him, it’s all you’ve been talking about since this whole bet started.” Tae-hoon complained.

“Listen, it’s not my fault that he’s so perfect and that every time I see him I just wanna kiss his perfect lips.” I whined my head slipping down my arm as I stared at Seo-joon from across the lunch room.

“Well if I were you and I wanted to avoid kissing my boyfriend I would just ignore him until he gives in.” Ju-kyung said between mouthfuls of rice and meat off of her lunch tray, “thanks babe.” Soo-ho said sarcastically as he looked at Ju-kyung blank faced, “no problem honey, only telling you the truth.” She joked before giving him a quick kiss on the lips, which he gladly accepted.

“I hate you guys and your cute-and-able-to-kiss-each-other, relationships.” I sighed, “well I guess ignoring him until he gives in isn’t such a bad idea.”

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

“Hey baby.” Seo-joon whispered as he placed his arm above me on the wall leaning in. “h-hey Seo-joon, how-how’s your day been?” I stuttered out trying to look him in the eyes, “My day’s better now that I've seen you.” He stated, gently lifting my face to properly look him in the eyes. “Listen honey, I have to get going to class but how about after school I take you to that book store you’ve been begging me to take you to”,

“Y-yeah, that would be nice thanks.”

“Good.” He leaned in to kiss me, feeling his warm breath fan across my face, causing me to flush. Closing my eyes I waited for the final push of his lips against mine, but instead felt the cold take the place of his warm breath as he suddenly pulled away his light laughter mixing with the small snickers of his friends watching the interaction, “see ya later baby.” he stated walking off down the hallway, his friends chasing after him, congratulation him on the little stunt he pulled on me. Seeing Ju-kyung, Soo-a and Soo-jin shaking their heads out of the corner of my eye, Soo-jin tutted “using your own tactic against you, that’s evil. but, man, you’ve got it bad for that boy. Good luck paying for all those dates.”

“I’m gonna have to try a lot harder to ignore him if he’s going to keep pulling stunts like that.” I sighed.

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

It’s been 8 days since the bet had started, and it hadn’t gotten any easier to not kiss him. We’ve been effectively avoiding each other, this afternoon at school being the first time we’ve spoken since last thursday.

“Thanks for paying my bus fee. You didn’t have to do that” I thanked Seo-joon awkwardly as we took a seat at the very back of the bus.

“Of course, you’re my partner, you think I'd make you pay your own bus fee?” he laughed lightly, reaching out for my hand. Quickly yanking my hand away from his grasp I cleared my throat fixing my uniform shirt, looking away before I could get drawn back in by him.

“How was your day? You know besides great because now you’re seeing me.” he joked trying to drag my gaze away from the window to my left, “it was fine thanks, boring but you know how it is, stressed for the test on friday though.” I tried to joke, switching my gaze from the window to my fingers, playing with the hem of my dressshirt.

Sitting in awkward silence for the rest of the bus ride, we finally arrived at the small corner bookstore Ju-kyung recommended I check out.

“You know I could have just driven us here on my motorcycle right?”

“Well yeah but you know how I feel about your motorcycle, you’re gonna get killed on that think Seo-joon.” I joked, knocking his shoulder lightly, trying to lighten the mood from the tense bus right here. “Here let me get that for you.” Seo-joon said softly as he grabbed the door handle pulling it open for me to enter the warmth of the small store.

“Ah welcome!” the man at the front desk said as he pulled his headphones up from his neck to cover his ears, “FEEL FREE TO LOOK AROUND.” he yelled over the blasting rock music coming from his headphones.

Seo-joon and I quickly thanked him before walking further into the winding stacks of manga, making sure to be well out of earshot before bursting into fits of giggles over the yelling of the man at the front desk, calming down slightly before hearing him knock over a drink and letting out a few loud curses, throwing us back into our fits of giggles, leaning in Seo-joon's warmth trying to calm down.

Pulling away from him I cleared my throat before making my way further into the store fixing my uniform sweater to try and calm my warming face. Hearing Seo-joon clear his own throat before following a few steps behind me.

Running my fingers softly over the spines of manga looking for a title that grabbed me, I scanned the bookshelf spotting a title I recognized. “Seo-joon look!” I spoke excitedly pointing to the book I recognized on the top shelf, “My sister and I used to read them when we were younger, we would fight over our single copy for hours trying to read it before the other was able to.” I laughed lightly at the memory, not noticing Seo-joon's soft gaze watching me ramble about my childhood. Reaching up to try and grab the book I switched to standing on my tiptoes stretching my arm up as far as possible mumbling to myself, cursing my parents for making me so short. Just as I felt my finger tips brush the cracked spine of the manga a large hand came out of my right field vision grabbing the book off the shelf for me. “Ah thank you baby.” I thanked Seo-joon turning to him, reaching out for the book he still held in his much larger hands, however being slightly startled at how close he was actually standing to me.

Standing still for a few moments just looking at each other I broke the silence, “thanks for grabbing that for me. Could I please have the book now?” my voice coming out in barely a whisper. Not getting any sort of response from Seo-joon I asked him, “Seo-joon? What’s wrong ba-” not being able to get through the full sentence before feeling the breath knocked out of me as Seo-joon pressed his lips against mine, effectively ending the bet in one, beautiful, breathtaking, sweet kiss.

Pulling back after a few moments to catch out breath I looked up at him, eyes slightly closed still relishing in the feeling of the kiss we shared, a soft warm light coming from the shop's eclectic lighting fixtures, haloing him making him look more ethereal than I have ever seen him. “Sorry I didn’t ask you if I could kiss you, but I just saw you rambling about the book you were passionate about, and you look so cute with your hair falling in front of your face like it is,” he whispered lovingly pushing a strand of hair out of my sight, “and I just realized. I love you.” he stated, taking a deep breath in waiting for my reaction to his first confession.

Looking at me worriedly waiting for my reaction. “I love you too Seo-joon” I whispered, standing on my tiptoes, burying my face in his neck embarrassed at the first proper confession of our love for each other. Feeling Seo-joon smile into my neck he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer into his warm body, standing back, flat on my feet he buried me further into his chest, the both of us relishing in the warmth the others love provided.

“You know, I think our first date this week should be the movies tomorrow.” I started to laugh, feeling his chest rumble beneath my head he sighed lightly,

“You’re going to drain my bank account dry this week with these dates aren’t you?”

“Hahaha! Maybe I am. It’s only because I love you though.”

“I love you too”

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter ten: "Set me free my honey bee"

Word count: 11,6K

Summary: Let's jump 19 months in time and see how painful it has turned for reader and Spencer to hide their feelings for each other. JJ leaves the team, and a new member joins the BAU.

Warnings: Angst and hurt. Fools being assholes. Cursing, of course. Mention of CM cases and spoilers on S06E11.

A/N: Please don't hate me. Just remember things usually look like the shit before they get worst, and then everything is better. I hope.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Time is a weird thing. I remember when I was in school and time didn't pass fast enough. Semesters were eternal. It felt it had been years by the time summer vacation arrived. The complete opposite happened to me at the BAU. Suddenly, time passed too quickly. A whole year and a half went by in the blink of an eye.

I told Spencer about it, and he sent me a paper published by Professor Adrian Bejan that presented an argument based on the physics of neural signal processing. He hypothesizes that, over time, the rate at which we process visual information slows down, and this is what makes time 'speed up' as we grow older.

My answer was that I thought it happened 'cos as we grew older, we did things that actually gave us joy, which made us feel the time was passing faster than before. So we argued a whole Saturday afternoon about it and created our own theories for that event.

My theory was my personal favorite, 'cos it was the only one that could easily explain why so much time had passed in the BAU, and it felt like it had been just a few weeks.

It hadn't been easy, though. Those nineteen months had been filled with some of the worst situations we had been through as a team.

After I got shot, JJ finally admitted her relationship with Will and got pregnant. That was shocking, the first BAU baby: Henry.

Sadly, Henry was the only little good thing that happened that year. Because to sum it up, a bunch of awful shit happened to all of us: Hotch was in a car explosion that almost killed him. Spencer and Prentiss got trapped in an undercover mission into an underground cult to investigate child abuse, and Emily was beaten up pretty badly. Also, Spencer got infected with anthrax and nearly died. That was probably the most agonizing moment I had lived since the whole Tobias Hankel situation two years earlier.

Also, that year Prentiss had to investigate the case of the death of one of her best friends, and I was in a pretty nasty fight with an unsub that got me out of the field for three weeks. Not to mention, Spencer was shot in the leg.

Hotch was stabbed by the only unsub that has actually won against the BAU: Foyet. He attacked Aaron and got on the lose for months, but we all knew his next move as torture Hotch's family. That's why his ex-wife Haley and his little son Jack had to go into protective custody, and he couldn't see them for months while we tried to catch Foyet.

Things didn't go as planned. And without a doubt, the worst moment that year was the day Haley died. Foyet killed her, and Aaron lost it. He literally killed him with his bare hands the moment he got him. For a solid week, I was sure Aaron Hotchner wouldn't be the unit chief anymore. Strauss actually opened an investigation related to everything that happened that day. But in the end, somehow, she understood the "bloodbath" that had happened in that house was all in Foyet's hands.

However, there's no way to deny that the whole team had changed in many ways after that year. The concept of being a family was now more present than ever. After chasing Foyet for months, we were all onto him as if he was chasing our own family, because he was.

You don't work this kind of job with a team like mine and don't get attached to them. And this goes beyond how in love I was with Spencer. The (Y/N) who first stepped into the BAU, scared to show her true self, was long gone. And despite my deepest fears, letting them in and showing them who I really was had been one of the smartest decisions I have ever made.

Do you want to know which was my stupidest decision? Falling in love with Spencer Reid. It hadn't actually been my choice. I just didn't fight the feeling either. I don't think I could have even if I tried, though. Those nineteen months brought us so close, my mom thought we were living together, and the teasing from our friends was so common we weren't even affected by it.

For Christ Sakes, even Strauss thought we were dating! She forced us to attend a seminar on fraternization, concerned after she realized we always took our vacation together. We had a lot of fun trips, though. First, we visited his mom and had an amazing weekend in Las Vegas. Then we took a few days off after the anthrax incident and went to Hawaii. Picture Spencer Reid in an "all-inclusive," drinking all the coffee and eating all the pastries possible while reading a million books underneath an extra-large umbrella. We had fun that week, did some local touring, but most of all, sleeping in and relaxing. Spencer hates the beach but got those tickets anyway.

Did everybody think we were a couple? Yes

Did it help that we shared rooms, 'cos we were already used to it? No

Did it feel like a honeymoon without sex? Yes

Could I stop thinking about sex with Spencer? No.

And all that led us to the nightmare our relationship was going to become.

Penelope Garcia was drunk. She kept pouring shots and pushing them to us. Emily was wasted as well. But she kept acting like the classy lady she is. Not like JJ. My poor baby had mascara smeared under her eyes after crying for like an hour.

We found out she was leaving the team, and it was a hard blow on us. And by hard, I mean the worst thing that had ever happened to us. We had suffered without JJ when she was on maternity leave. And we struggled without her. Now knowing the Pentagon had taken her away from the BAU was torture.

We had a goodbye party for her at Rossi's, but this was our goodbye girl's night, and neither of us was holding anything back.

We had cried, we had sung sad songs. We drank all the champagne, wine, and vodka we could find. And now, holding our tequila shots, we knew it was time to call it a night.

- "I just love you girls so much,"- JJ whispered, crying- I don't wanna work without you.

- "Boo, come here!!"- I opened my arms and wrapped them around my friend, kissing the top of her hair a few times- "I love you too, and you are going to come back so soon you won't have time to miss us. You'll see. Papa Rossi and Dada Hotch are gonna fix everything."

I was drunk. Seriously drunk. But that wasn't the reason why I was so sweet with JJ. The truth is, I was broken-hearted. Like Penelope and Reid, I didn't manage change very well, and the fact that JJ was forced to leave made me feel frustrated and mad. But most of all, it made me think of every time I had been a little bitch with her during the years. And I regretted each one of them.

- "And we won't be far!"- Emily added and caressed JJ's arm, smiling kindly- "You will still be in town, and we will not leave you alone"- JJ chuckled and nodded.

- "I know, girls. Shit, I love you all so much!"

- "We love you too!"- Penelope sobbed and moved closer, wrapping the three of us in her arms.

- "Please, take care!"- JJ wiped off the tears from her eyes and looked at us- "Emily, don't do anything stupid! Don't rush in the field, and please don't take your fucking vest off!!"

- "I won't! I promise!"

- "You have to live to be Unit chief one day!"- JJ added, and Prentiss widened her eyes, shocked.

- "That's not really my gold."

- "But you'd be queen, baby!!"- Jareau added and turned to Penelope- "And you, please make sure Hotch eats. I kept a stack of granola bars on my desk to keep him fueled during the day. He usually forgets lunchtime and skips dinner, so..."

- "Don't worry, JJ,"- Penelope nodded, and we all felt our heartbreak a little thinking about all the things JJ did in her daily basics to take care of the team, and we didn't even know.

- "How are we going to survive without you?"- I mumbled, pouting. JJ chuckled and held my hand.

- "You are a rock, and you will do a fantastic job keeping this team together. Just, please, can you and Spencer start dating now?"

I wide opened my eyes and stared at JJ. The comment surprised me. I shouldn't, 'cos the whole "you and Spencer should start dating" joke was getting old. Only this time, JJ wasn't joking. She held both my hands and looked right into my eyes.

- "(Y/N), he loves you"- I was about to argue with her, but she covered my mouth with her Cheetos smelling hand.

- "Don't say a word! Spencer loves you so much you really must be blind not to see it. And I know you love him too. It's implied in all the little things you do for him every day. So don't take it for granted. Don't think this will last forever 'cos look at me! A week ago, I was happily working at the BAU, and now I'm drinking at my goodbye party! So don't waste any more time! You are in love with Spencer, and he loves you! It doesn't take a profiler to see it. So please! Act on it!"

There was a dramatic silence after. I didn't know how to break it. I could just joke around, but somehow, it didn't feel right. It had been too quiet for too long, and that made everything harder to deny. Finally, Emily put her hand on mine, just like JJ was still doing, and smiled at me.

- "There's nothing to be ashamed of, (Y/N). You are not the first person to fall for her best friend."

- "And the Junior G Man loves you so much,"- Penelope added, landing her hand on our hands too.

- "As his friend"- I corrected and sighed. I guess that was it. After three years, I could probably start facing my feelings in front of my friends.

- "No, (Y/N)"- Garcia tried to argue, but I shook my head and stood up, 'cos all that sudden attention and affection was bothering me.

- "PG, I was in Hawaii with the man, sharing a room, walking around in a bikini, and he didn't do anything."

- "That's because he is shy!"- Emily excused him right away.

- "My bikini leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. Do you know what he said when he first saw me on it?"- I looked at my friend and poured us another round of tequila- "And I quote, "I don't think I brought enough books. This one is too interesting."

I air quoted with my fingers as we spoke, and the three of them looked at me, speechless. I made my point and drank my shot, feeling the alcohol burning down my throat. My friends opened their mouths but didn't produce a word. I sighed and looked at them.

- "But he hates the beach, and he took you there anyway,"- Emily pointed out

- "Did he give you his speech about how he hates sandy food?"- JJ asked me, and I chuckled, nodding.

- "And about pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, and of course, the real reason he hates the beach: drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces."

- "And the man took you to the beach!"- Penelope argued.

- "But he didn't do anything! he didn't make his move, didn't even hold my hand!!"- I nearly shouted- "That's why, among a lot of reasons, is how I know Spencer is not interested in me! If only I'd tell you all the shit we've been through!"

- "Please!! Tell us!!"- Garcia begged and grabbed one of my legs- "I won't live another day 'cos I won't be able to deal with the mystery!"

- "No! 'cos you are gonna tell Morgan"- I slurred- "And he is going to embarrass and tease my honey bunny, and my honey bunny is gonna get all nervous and nervous around me, and we are never going to..."- I stopped talking and looked at my friends. I was sharing too much.

- "(Y/N)?"- Prentiss looked at me, but I just shook my head and looked down.

- "I think I better go home."

- "No, you can't drive like this,"- JJ argued immediately and held my hand- "I'm not gonna let you go intoxicated. Will is gonna come pick me up, and we'll drop you in your place."

I nodded at her and stayed still. My friends smiled at me, and slowly very slowly, I leaned on JJ's shoulder and rested my head on it.

- "I love you, boo,"- I whispered, and she giggled- "I don't think I'll stay sane without you there with us anymore."

- "Hotch is gonna manage to get her back,"- Penelope assured me, and I just nodded.

- "Meanwhile, we won't replace you, and if anyone tries to push someone new into the team, we are not gonna take them,"- I added, feeling JJ's hand holding mine.

- "Don't be mean with people just 'cos you miss me. If there's a new teammate, it won't be their fault I was pushed out of the BAU."

- "But, JJ,"- I tried to argue, but she shook her head right away.

- "No, (Y/N). You can't be mean to people just because."

Clearly, my friend hoped I could be the better person. The simple question was: did I want to be the better person? Right there, drunk and sad, the answer was no.

Spencer's point of view

I kept finding myself awake at four in the morning, walking around my apartment, not able to read or to write anything. For the last months, at least twice or three times each week, I would stay awake, no matter how tired I felt, and I would haunt my own apartment, listening to my vinyl records.

The sudden lack of sleep wasn't really something weird in me. I have always been nocturnal. Besides, the news of JJ's departure had hit us all pretty hard. I had already shared my share of tears and tried to manage the fury that caused me to know we were helpless to the government's decisions. There was nothing we could do, neither us, Hotch, or even Strauss. Not that she would if she could.

My family was in crisis, and all we could do was hope for the best and stay together.

It was scary losing JJ. It made me think of all the things that could go wrong every day on the field daily. It was bad that we could get hurt or even die on our work. But that they divided us that way made no sense. Like Rossi said: our loss was someone else's winning, and in the FBI, no one cared if we lost.

I poured myself a cup of herbal tea and inhaled the smell of it. It smelled like home. Like (Y/N). She had some of her favorite teas in my apartment. She had a bunch of all her things there, actually. When mom visited, she thought we were living together. She is still sure we are dating and that I don't wanna tell her. I don't longer argue with her about it. It's useless, and it somehow feels good to imagine in another world. It was actually true.

That year my feelings for my best friend had grown in a way that made it all more difficult to deal with. I didn't just love her. I was in love with her. She was in everything I did, in each and every one of my thoughts. I could hear her laughter in my head, like a record playing my favorite song over and over again.

When she was out there in the field, I couldn't stop running all the probabilities of her getting hurt, and most of the time, I would do my best to keep her safe, knowing it could somehow interfere with the case.

Hotch had called me to his office a few times, aware something was going with me. He could read it on my face, I guess. It was scary to know everybody could read my feelings for (Y/N) but her. And it was sad to think of the worst: that she knew how much I loved her, but she didn't feel the same, and she was just being my friend 'cos she was never going to be anything else but my friend.

I drank my tea and hummed the song that sounded in my house at four in the morning: Love is a losing game. Seemed pretty accurate for my mood. I remember the day I got that vinyl. We were out with (Y/N), Frank, and Lu, looking for a present for Mikey's birthday, and we ended up in a record store, getting a million vinyl records for ourselves.

- "Are you getting all those?"- (Y/N) asked me and looked at the seven albums in my hand.

- "Yes, why? I can't?"- I answered and raised an eyebrow.

- "Sassy!"- she giggled and grabbed them- "You can get all the albums you want. But I have to give my approval first. No, you are not getting this!"- she grabbed The Beatles' Revolver and left it aside.

- "What? Why? It's only one I need to complete my collection."

- "I know, but when you get it, you'll force me to listen to it, and I don't like the Beatles,"- she argued, and I just shook my head, taking the album again.

- "Sorry, chipmunk, I'm buying it."

- "Fine. I won't go to your house for the next couple of weeks then."

- "Why don't you tell me which album you wanna listen to when you are in my house then?"- I looked at her, smiling at me and looking for a record on the shelves.

- "This! You need some Amy in your life."

And I did. Now, at four in the morning, all alone walking around, I could see her in my apartment, singing along to her favorite songs while cooking dinner, feeling at home. I wished she was there, with me, doing nothing. Watching tv, or reading. Just hanging out. I knew it wasn't healthy being in love with my friend, seeing her every day, and also hanging out with her every chance I got. But even when I knew she was never going to love me the way I did, I was going to take every chance I had to enjoy her company. If that was all I was going to get.

My phone took me from my thoughts, and I quickly walked to my room to get it. I thought it was Hotch announcing a case, but it was JJ.

- "Hey! JJ, everything ok? Is Henry ok?"

- "Yes, hi Spence. We are all ok."

- "It's four in the morning."

- "Sorry I woke you up... I just..." - she made a pause and sighed at the other side of the line- "Spencer, you know I love you."

- "I love you too. You are one of my best friends. Is everything ok?"

- "Yes, I just wanted to... remember a bunch of years ago, when you asked me to that football game?"

A million years had passed since the one and only time I had asked JJ out. It was the only move I tried to do on her, and I failed incredibly. It was awkward, and she had no idea it was a date, so she invited Garcia to come along. I was so embarrassed I never even mentioned that single event ever again, and our friendship grew after.

- "Yes, I remember, JJ. Why?"

- "When you asked me out, did you have a crush on me?"

- "JJ, are you drunk?"- I had to ask 'cos that conversation was starting to scare me.

- "Yes, but that's not why I'm talking about this. Just answer the questions, Spence. When you asked me out on that date, did you have a crush on me?"

- "Yes, I did."

I closed my eyes, embarrassed to face feelings that were far forgotten.

- "You see, I had a crush on you too back then,"- JJ said and chuckled- "But neither of us acted on it, and life continued, and now I'm in love with Will, and we have a baby, and you are his godfather."

Of all the things I thought I would listen to that day, never in a million years, I imagined I would hear JJ drunk telling me she had a crush on me when we first met.

- "Now, do you want that to happen again?"- she asked, and I didn't get it, 'cos I was still trying to process what I had just heard. So I might have had a relationship with her if only I had said something, act on it. Kiss her, ask her out again?

- "What?"

- "Spence. Do you want to miss the chance to be with the girl you like?"

- "No, but JJ, what are you talking about?"

She sighed, frustrated, and used that tone of voice with me, that very maternal specific tone of voice she used to explain things she knew were hard for me to follow.

- "When you like someone, Spence, you have to tell her. 'Cos sometimes, life gets in the way, and if you don't do what you have to do to be happy, no one will do it for you."

- "Are you ok, JJ?"

- "Yes, Spence, I'm ok. I'm home with Will. We just got here after dropping (Y/N) off her place."

- "How was she?"

- "She might have had a few too many drinks, but she'll be ok in the morning. Maybe she'd appreciate it if you brought her coffee and donuts."

- "She doesn't like donuts,"- I corrected her- "She likes cupcakes and brownies."

- "Sorry. Coffee and cupcakes... just tell her you love her, Spence. She deserves to know."

I held my breath and closed my eyes. I didn't get why JJ was telling me that, but I knew I didn't want to talk about it. So I said good night and hung up.

What was the point of telling me we could have been a couple of years had passed already? Why didn't she say a thing before? Or even better, why didn't she ever say a word about it at all? So I missed the chance to be happy with her. Great. One more regret to add to my list.

I laid on my bed and tried to remember that date. I was so nervous that day, my hands shook inside my pockets as I walked to JJ's door. She looked beautiful that day, especially when she looked at me and announced she had invited Penelope to join us.

That was when I realized she would never see me as a proper date, just like a friend. And I learned to make my peace with that over the years. My crush for JJ lasted a few more months, but it vanished when I fell for (Y/N). What if she had never joined the team? Would I have been in love with JJ forever? Jeniffer always made me feel like her little brother, and I guess that's the mechanic that works for us. We were good friends ever since we met, and yes, I had a crush on her, but we work more like siblings than anything else.

What was the point in telling me I had missed a chance with her now? I just couldn't see it.

(Y/N)'s point of view

The next few weeks were us trying to survive without JJ. The team was making the best it could, but it was hard. Penelope took the lead during the second case without JJ. She turned into our tech analyst and communication liaison, only to collapse under the pressure of having two roles.

No one was going to replace JJ. We all knew it. Literally, no one, 'cos Hotch decided he and Garcia were going to split the job, and we were all going to collaborate as much as we could, 'cos we were a team. A family. And that's what families do.

And families were the target of the unsub we were hunting the day everything changed. Again. I hadn't recovered from the departure of JJ when Rossi and Hotch walked to the bullpen and introduced us to Agent Trainee Ashley Seaver.

My nemesis.

- "Agent trainee Seaver"- Rossi smiled at her like a proud father and looked at us as we stood up, wondering who she was- "Supervisory Special Agent Prentiss, (Y/L/N), and Morgan."

- "I've heard so much about the three of you,"- she said with the sweetest tone of voice I had ever heard. Something about that felt odd.

- "I hope it is all good- Morgan flirted right away, of course."

- "Very, sir."

- "Anything specific? I mean about me in particular?"- I turned to him and failed in holding back my chuckles.

- "Please, don't encourage him, or he will never stop talking,"- I said, and Derek elbowed me playfully. Seaver smiled at us and even blushed a little bit. She was nervous.

- "Agent Seaver is on loan to us from the academy while she is remedial training with an injury."

Hotch announced. And my stomach tightened right away. There was something wrong with that whole scene. I could feel it in my guts. But I didn't know why?

- "Concussion. Hand to hand got a little out of control."- Seaver explained and kept a silly smile on her face.

- "How's the other guy?"- Prentiss asked.

- "Don't ask."

- "I was remediated in the academy also,"- Spencer said, walking over us, and suddenly I understood why I had a bad feeling about everything.

- "Agent Seaver, Dr. Reid."

As soon as I heard Rossi say those words, there was a part of me who just wanted to hold Spencer's hand and push him away from her, even before they could say hi. She looked at him like he was eye candy, and I clenched my knuckles as I stared at the scene.

- "Uhm... What was your issue?"- she asked him, and I could see the pink on her cheek intensifying as he looked at her, confused.

- "What was my issue? Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's alley. You know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field."

Seaver stared at him and kept nodding, though I wondered if she was listening to what he had said. Spencer looked exceedingly handsome that day. His hair was very short for the first time in years, and he still had no idea how to comb it, so it was all over the place, making him look as hot as fuck.

I was so in love with him, I didn't know what to do with those feelings at all. It was hard working with Reid at that point. I just wanted to kiss him.

- "Agent Seaver's going to accompany us to New Mexico,"- Aaron announced, and I couldn't help but question him right away.

- "She is?"

- "As a consultant."- he assured me.

- "On?"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Hotch, wondering what a trainee agent could help us with as a consultant.

- "She has a unique perspective,"- Rossi tried to explain, but it sounded like bullshit.

- "They don't know?"- Seaver turned to the elderly agents, and they shook their heads.

- "Well, we weren't sure how you wanted to,"- David whispered.

- "Uh... Seaver's not my original last name. It's my mother's maiden name. Mine used to be Beauchamp. My father is Charles Beauchamp"- Ashley was supposed to explain the circumstances of her consultancy to the whole team, but she just looked at Spencer as she spoke.

- "As in the Redmond ripper, Charles Beauchamp?"- he asked her, and suddenly, it clicked. It was like my whole body was telling me I couldn't be close to her for a reason.

- "That's him,"- she whispered and kept her eyes on my best friend as he continued talking.

- "He killed 25 women over 10 years in rural North Dakota. I think that you caught him, right, Rossi?"- and David nodded.

- "Hotch was on that team, too."

- "Based on her life experience, we were hoping that agent Seaver might recognize something in the family dynamics inside the community that could be helpful. We have a plane waiting,"- Hotch announced and looked at us, but none of us said a word.

I kept my eyes glued at my feet the whole time Aaron talked. Then, Spencer nodded and walked with Seaver and Rossi out to the hangar. I couldn't even blink. I think I was in shock.

- "Her father was a serial killer?"- Prentiss asked Hotch, not getting what he was thinking.

- "That's definitely a different set of parameters,"- Morgan added. Neither of them was sold on the idea, which made me feel a little bit better.

- "I don't want her presence to get us sidetracked. It's a long shot that she's gonna see anything helpful. We work it like any other case,"- Hotch was clear, and Prentiss and Morgan nodded.

- "You got it."

But I disagreed with that.

- "(Y/N), is everything ok?"- Aaron asked me, and I tried my best to lie and be cool.

- "Yeah, I'm ok."

- "Ok. We work this like any other case. Wheels up in twenty."

But everything was far from being ok.

I sat next to Spencer on the jet, and we reviewed the case files together. Hotch briefed us, and we all pretended it wasn't weird having Seaver there. And I guess we had to pretend it wasn't odd knowing her dad was a serial killer.

- "You are very young, (Y/N),"- she said and smiled at me. She was sitting across from Spencer and me, and you could tell she had been trying to join the conversation for a few minutes now.

-" Twenty eight,"- I answered and looked at the files again.

- "And you, doctor?"

- "You can call me Reid. I'm twenty eight too,"- Spencer cut her a short, awkward, and nervous smile, and I turned to him.

- "Honey, did I leave my Mets jersey at your house?"- it was the only question that came to my mind at that minute. It was completely random, but somehow it showed a part of our dynamic that Ashley didn't know. Our friendship. Our closeness.

- "Yes, I found it last night,"- he answered and sipped his coffee- "I was gonna bring it over, but then I remembered you always borrow all my sweaters when you are home or when you stay over, so I thought maybe it was a good idea to keep it at my place."

- "I don't know, Batsy. It's my favorite sweatshirt- I raised an eyebrow, and I'm pretty sure I even flirted a little bit."

- "So? You need to keep one there."

- "But I like wearing your clothes when we are at your place. It's extra large and extra comfy."

- "Is that why you keep taking my sweaters back to your house?"- he asked and chuckled- "Last Sunday, I found four of my sweaters in your closet."

- "Sorry, I'm not even sorry,"- I said and laughed- "And what were you doing in my closet?"

- "Lucy, Ricky, can we focus on the case?"- Morgan asked and waved at us with one silly grin on his face- "We love hearing your adorable daily adventures, but we've got a psycho killer to catch."

Spencer blushed and flustered right away. I stuck out my tongue at Morgan and just shook my head. The way Seaver looked at Reid was still driving me nuts, but I felt I had shown her he was mine, childishly.

It's embarrassing to think that's not the most childish thing I did around her those days. Or in the weeks to follow. But I didn't like Ashley, and I didn't want her around my team. And it wasn't just her constant flirting with Spencer. It was the fact her father had killed my mother's sister when she was in college, and I was making my best effort to keep that fact aside from work. My personal life had to stay out of the FBI, especially when working a case.

I had to do some serious mental work trying to remember it wasn't Ashley's fault her father was a sick bastard. She hadn't hurt my family, and her father had ruined her life too. It wasn't her fault.

But one thing is knowing. Another thing is being rational about it. Spoiler: I wasn't so rational about it.

- "So, (Y/N). Do you like working at the BAU?"- Ashley asked me and looked at me through the rearview mirror. We were in the SUV, and Prentiss was driving. I was in the back seat, trying to ignore her, but she made it impossible.

- "Yes, very much,"- I answered and nodded, not taking my eyes from the window.

- "Everybody is very friendly,"- Seaver added and made a pause. I don't know if she wanted me to say something or if she was trying to find a way to say what she wanted to say.

- "Yes, they are,"- I humored her, and she quickly responded.

- "Are you and Spencer dating?"- I could feel the blood raising my cheeks as she spoke. And Prentiss flashed me a look through the mirror as Ashley continued talking.

- "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I just wondered because of the fraternization policy."

- "Right. Sure. Of course."

Those three words were meant to let Ashley know I wasn't buying her bullshit, So I literally spit them.

- "Spencer is my best friend. We are not dating."

Facing that simple truth had never been harder before, especially after how I saw Ashley's face light up.

- "You just seem to be so close."

- "Oh, they are close,"- Emily smiled at me and winked- "They are so close, they sometimes freak us out."

- "We freak you out?"- I raised an eyebrow and carefully hit her arm, pretending to be upset. But honestly, I was glad she was teasing me.

- "I am just saying, we are all pretty suspicious about you two. I am actually surprised you didn't share rooms tonight. They usually share rooms."- Emily explained to Seaver.

- "He was paired with Morgan,"- I pouted and looked at my phone. I thought maybe I could send him a funny text. I actually wanted to hang out with him.

- "He is very nice,"- Ashley added- "I mean, everybody is nice."

- "Yes, you mentioned it"

I was clearly not being nice. Seaver nodded and looked at the files again. I assumed she was trying to find a way to keep asking about Spencer, and I was making my best not to kill her.

- "Working with a genius must be somehow intimidating,"- she said after a few minutes. Damn it, she wasn't going to let that subject go.

- "It's fun working with Spencer,"- Prentiss said, trying to humor Seaver. And mostly, I guess trying to ease my mood and keep me from killing the trainee agent.

- "I'm sure it is,"- Seaver added. I hated her.

- "He is more than just a genius, he is a nerd."- Emily pointed out and chuckled at her words, making Seaver giggle too. I looked at my book again, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on it at all. He was my nerd. Mine.

- "Well, it's very refreshing to be with a group who trusts and works so well together,"- she added- "I had never felt less judged and more welcome in my entire life."

I know I should have felt sorry for her. But I honestly couldn't. That was the day I realized I wasn't the good person I thought I was. There was a part of me that was a scumbag. I'm guessing knowing that is pretty helpful and positive 'cos you can work on your flaws. But I wasn't planning on working on anything at that minute, though. I just wanted to break Seaver's face.

Spencer's point of view

I didn't like working without JJ. I've never been good with change, and that was a massive alteration of our routine. I missed her, and adding Ashley to the team made things even weirder for me, even for a case. I didn't want to be judgemental, but her father was a serial killer. Of course, that would make things weird.

Besides, everybody kept bugging me, teasing me, trying to see if I liked Seaver. Penelope called while we were on the case and started taunting me, saying she knew I thought Ashley was cute. I could see she was beautiful, but I couldn't see her that way. And I didn't want anyone to say those kinds of things around (Y/N).

Why did I care so much?

I didn't want to face it 'cos I knew it was completely platonic, but I didn't want (Y/N) to think I had a crush on Seaver. I knew my best friend didn't have romantic feelings for me, and I also knew I wasn't going to make a move on her or anything. But I didn't want things to change more than they already had. And most of all, I didn't want anything to alter my dynamic with (Y/N).

But at the same time, somehow, it felt everything was already different between us.

- "Hey, honey bunny,"- (Y/N) walked to me and handed me a cup of coffee- "I thought you might need one of these."

- "You are a lifesaver,"- I whispered and sipped the cup. It was perfect.

We were on the jet on our way back home. The whole team was mostly quiet. The mood was weird. Ashley had done something quite reckless earlier and nearly got herself killed. She walked to the unsub's house all alone, not knowing he was our guy. She almost died, and none of us can even imagine what went through her head to do such a thing.

Rossi and Hotch walked to her. (Y/N) looked at me, and I could read on her face that both of us knew what was going to happen.

Ashley was alone when David sat in front of her, and Hotch stood in the middle of the aisle. Maybe that had been insensitive of us. Neither of us tried to contain her. Neither of us really knew her that well. Or at all, as a matter of fact.

- "You were not supposed to go off on your own."- Hotch went straight to the point.

- "I know,"- she whispered, and I could see how (Y/N)'s face changed. I tried to read her, but all I was able to see was... anger? I had to be wronged. She had no reason to be mad at Ashley.

- "You could have been killed,"- Hotch crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her.

- "I know that, too."

- "Why, Ashley? You're smarter than that"- Rossi sounded like a worried father. I didn't look at him 'cos I kept my eyes on (Y/N)'s, still trying to read her emotions. But what I saw made no sense. She really looked like she was angry at Ashley. Like she hated her.

- "I never got to apologize to any of the victims. The families of the women my father killed. I thought if I could just apologize to one family that had been hurt that way..."

And that was when (Y/N) snapped. She jumped from her seat and walked to Seaver. Aaron and David looked at her surprised, and Morgan turned to me, taking off his headphones. Neither he nor Prentiss got what was happening until that moment.

- "Ok. Shoot!"- (Y/N) sat right in front of Seaver, next to David, and looked at her. But she didn't get it.

- "What? What are you talking about?"

- "You just said you wanted to apologize to one of the families. So go ahead. Try."

The silence on the jet was so deep and awkward it felt no one was ever going to talk again.

- "I'm sorry, (Y/N). But I don't get what you are implying,"- Ashley's voice was a whisper. I knew she was sad and affected, embarrassed even. But I also knew (Y/N), and I could read it on her face. She wasn't joking.

- "You said you wanted to apologize to the family of one of your dad's victims, so go ahead. Apologize to me."

My first instinct was to stand up, which I did. But I froze and didn't take a step closer to (Y/N) when I noticed the severe and cold look in her eyes. I didn't know what she was talking about. But I knew she wasn't bluffing.

- "Why should I... apologize to you?"- Ashley asked her, and her voice broke at a certain point, probably scared of the answer.

- "Your dad killed my mother's older sister. She was in college,"- (Y/N) spit each word with hate and looked at Ashley, waiting for her reply. But Seaver didn't know what to do. She widened her eyes and stayed still. She barely kept her breathing steady.

- "(Y/N), maybe we should let Seaver rest,"- Hotch landed a hand on her shoulder, but my friend shook her head.

- "No, Hotch. By making that choice, she put everyone at risk,"- (Y/N) didn't take her eyes from Ashley as she spoke- "As far as I remember when you are at the academy, they teach you that in the field, we are responsible to and for your team."

- "(Y/N)... I had no idea..."- Ashley tried to apologize, I could see it, but it was clear she wasn't going to win that argument- "I am so sorry."

- "I don't know, Seaver. Did you think saying "sorry" would make those families feel better? 'Cos it ain't working here. "Sorry" won't make my mom stop feeling guilty about what happened. And, if things had gotten ugly back there, "sorry" wouldn't have made your mistake go away in case anyone would have gotten hurt. So no. Sorry doesn't help. Maybe it can ease your conscience, but when you really fuck it up, it never makes things better."

(Y/N) stood up and walked back to her seat in front of me. I let her pass and didn't say a word. I knew she wouldn't want to talk about it there. And, of course, Seaver didn't say a word. She just stood up and walked to the back of the jet, to the bathroom. Rossi and Hotch looked at each other and then looked at me.

David poured a glass of whiskey and walked to (Y/N) slowly. He didn't say a word, he just handed it to her, and she just took it and sipped it with shaky hands.

- "Thanks,"- she whispered, and Rossi nodded. Hotch raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. He just walked to his seat and opened a case file.

I moved back to my seat and opened my satchel. I had run out of candies earlier that day, so I didn't have much to give to her that could make her smile. So I picked a book and handed it to her. She took it and smiled at me kindly. I knew she was fighting back the tears, and I am sure she has held back all the emotions than being with the daughter of the man who killed her aunt since she knew who Seaver was. And she managed to do the job well. I was proud of her.

- "Wanna grab something to eat when we reach DC?"- I whispered, but for the first time ever, she shook her head.

- "I'm gonna have to catch a rain check for that dinner. I think I wanna go straight to my bed today, honey."- she sipped her glass again, and I nodded.

- "Don't worry, next time."

I was waiting for the train to go back home later that night when I saw Seaver sitting at a bench at the station, staring at her hands on her lap. I didn't see her leaving the BAU, though to be honest, I was really focused on finishing my paperwork to go home. (Y/N) had left as soon as we reached DC, but I had stayed a little longer.

I hesitated for a few seconds before I took a few steps closer and waved at Seaver. She looked at me surprised, as soon as she saw me, but didn't move. I smiled, trying to look friendly, and sat next to her.

- "Hi. What are you doing here?"- I asked her, and she shrugged.

- "I was going to go home, but I think I sat here half an hour ago and haven't been able to move,"- I turned to her and shook my head.

- "Do you want to eat something?"- after what had happened at the jet, I figured Ashley wasn't feeling so good, and maybe talking with someone could help her. She looked at me and blushed; I don't know why. But at least, she smiled and nodded.

- "Great, pizza?"

- "Pizza sounds good."

We were waiting for our food and making small talk. I kept giving Ashley pizza facts to fill the silence 'cos it was weird hanging out with Ashley. I didn't know her, really. We had worked a case together, but that didn't mean I knew her. And, of course, we had the whole jet incident. I felt a little guilty about what had happened, though it wasn't my fault at all in retrospect. I just felt like it was my job cheering her up a little bit after everything she had gone through.

- "How do you do it?"- she asked me all of a sudden- "How do you deal with the pressure of this job?"

- "You get used to it, I guess. I don't know if it's a good thing to get used to, but... it comes with the job, I think,"- I didn't know if I was doing ok comforting her. Then again, I have never been particularly good at it. Not then, not now.

- "Did you always dream about doing this?"- she asked me, and her eyes locked into mine in a way that made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

- "Y... yes. Ever since I was a kid, catching the bad guys,"- Seaver nodded and sipped her coke- "You? Why did you get into the academy?"

I regretted my question right after I asked, just 'cos I realized she might have done it to understand her father's behavior. It was only apparent that had shaped her actions.

- "I guess you know that..."- Ashley answered and smiled, her eyes looking straight into mine. I know I blushed. She is a beautiful woman, though I wasn't thinking about her that way. It was an odd feeling being observed that way.

I was glad our pizza made it to the table, and we were forced to stop talking, and I could focus on anything else but her. Not that I didn't want to look at her, but... I think the right way to explain it is to call it "uneasy." That's how I felt. I wanted to be friendly with her, she had a horrible experience consulting with the team, and I was sure she wasn't really having a good day.

- "This might sound weird, but... do you think I can call you sometime?"- Ashley asked after a few minutes. We were eating and talking about nothing important. I nearly chook at her words and looked at her, nodding.

- "Sure, why?"- I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't know why she might need to talk to me again.

- "I just think maybe you could help me with a few assignments at the academy."

- "Yeah, of course."

Ashley Seaver smiled and nodded at me, pleased. She took a sip of Sprite, and I could read her, trying to find the words to continue speaking.

- "I'm glad. I was sure you were going to say no."

- "Why?"- I furrowed my brows, confused- "I'm not a big fan of phones, but I can handle a casual phone call."

- "No, I just didn't think your girlfriend would like... I mean, I think (Y/N) hates me, and as her boyfriend, I thought you... would... I don't know."

- "I'm, we are... we,"- I was completely flustered as I tried to rearrange my thoughts. Seaver looked at me innocently and waited for my words.

- "(Y/N) isn't my girlfriend"- it bothered me to admit that simple fact. Why? 'Cos it hurt to think we looked like a couple, but we weren't. Why did Seaver think we were together?

- "Really? But..."

- "She is my best friend,"- I explained poorly. She nodded and hesitated before saying what she was thinking. It was obvious she was trying to arrange the words in her head.

- "It's just that you two... sorry, I'm overstepping,"- Ashley blushed and shook her head- "She is... strong."

- "Yes, very."

- "I think I started with the wrong foot with her."

- "Well, I don't mean to justify anything, but if your father hurt,"- I made a pause, trying to find a way to say it that wasn't so painful.

- "Killed. My father killed her aunt,"- she corrected me with a cold and monotonous tone of voice. I just nodded and sipped my water.

- "She is an amazing person,"- I don't know if I was trying to excuse (Y/N)'s earlier behavior or if I just loved her so much I needed to tell people how awesome she was.

- "I'm sure you will pass this,"- I assured her- "Once you get to know her, and she gets to know you."

- "I don't think she will give me that chance. Besides, I was just clear to assist with only one case."

- "If you want to stay, you can request your remedial training be here. And if Hotch approves it, I could talk to (Y/N). I'm sure she will like to know you better."

Why did I say all that? I had no idea.

- "Thank you, Spence. You are really sweet,"- Ashley moved closer and held my hand. I stayed very still, absolutely awkward.

- "Yeah, I don't... like... holding hands,"- I quickly moved it away and tried to smile at her. She stayed still, not understanding my reaction but trying to act normal.

- "Sorry."

- "That's ok. I'm a germaphobe, that's all."

After pizza, we left the place and said goodnight. I told Ashley I was weary (which was, in fact, the truth) and got her a cab to take her home. After that, I walked to my place. I felt like I needed to be alone for a while. My head was overwhelmed, and in the latest couple of weeks, I had severe trouble sleeping.

I had migraines that nearly blinded me. I was scared they meant I could develop the first signs of schizophrenia, like mom, 'cos they were coming more and more often. It wasn't that bad yet, the light didn't hurt my eyes, and I didn't have any sign of hallucination, but still, I knew it could be serious.

I tried to think of a reason why I might be having those severe headaches. I was eating correctly, mostly 'cos (Y/N) forced me to eat. No, she didn't force me, but she made sure I had all my meals at work, not just coffee. And usually, at the weekends, we would spend our time together, and she was a fantastic cook. So it wasn't an alimentary issue.

I wasn't sleeping well. That wasn't new, but it was getting serious. I wrote and read a lot at night 'cos I couldn't fall asleep until late. I didn't know why. I just couldn't rest. My body ached, and my brain wouldn't sleep. The only nights I could actually get some rest were the ones when (Y/N) stayed with me. It was a blessing when Hotch paired us to share rooms, 'cos I could easily fall asleep when she was around. Her presence soothed me in a way that I didn't understand. Let me put it this way, I know it might sound cheesy, but the beating of her heart set the rhythm for my own, and at night it would bring me peace.

I reached home that night and sighed. I knew I wasn't going to rest easy. (Y/N) wasn't there with me. So I made myself a cup of herbal tea, (Y/N) had a lot of those in my house, and I drank them when I missed her. The smell coming from the cup made me feel like she was close.

How pathetic I had become! But I could only share those thoughts with myself. No one knew I had feelings for her, and I was going to deny it till the end, no matter what had JJ said. I couldn't take that phone call from my mind, and on those sleepless nights, I kept overthinking and overanalyzing everything.

I got into bed with a few books and my cup of herbal tea. I took a look at my cell phone, two new messages.

- "I miss u"

(Y/N) sent, and a warm feeling spread on my chest as I imagined her whispering those words as I read them

- "Breakfast tomorrow before work?"

- "See you at seven-thirty."

I typed and sent it.

What could ever happen if I told her how much in love I am with her? I would lose her, and I'd be alone. She didn't feel that way for me. It was a fact. I was just glad she was my best friend, and I could share everything with her. Was I pathetic? Yes, very, but in a way, it felt it was just all I deserved. Not more, not less. Just being in love with a girl who didn't love me back.

At least she wasn't dating Paul anymore. I hated that guy.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer was waiting for me outside our usual coffee shop, already holding two cups of coffee. His short hair looked dreamy as she smiled and took off his sunglasses. It had to be illegal being that hot. But, seriously, how didn't he get laid? He was fucking dreamy. In the four years we had been best friends, I saw Spencer in many hairstyles, and each of them made him look like a model.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid had been a process I hadn't actually been fully aware of. But I was completely conscious I needed to hide those feelings from him and from everybody at the BAU.

Ok, fine, I had somehow faced part of those feelings in front of my drunk best buddies at Penelope's house, but I never actually confirmed anything. I had just... shared some of my frustrations, I guess.

- "Good morning, honey bunny,"- I smiled and sighed as I stood in front of Spencer, watching him grin back at me and hand me one of the coffee cups.

- "Good morning, chipmunk. Did you get some rest?"

- "Yes, I fell asleep as soon as I reached my bed. I was exhausted."

- "I'm glad you are fully rested."

- "What did you do yesterday?"

- "Nothing,"- he answered quickly and turned around- "I got you a carrot muffin to go."

- "Thank you so much. I'm starving. I didn't even have dinner yesterday."

- "Really?"

- "I told you, I reached home and crawled into my bed."

We walked outside the coffee shop in silence. Spencer bit his donuts, and I ate my muffin. It was nice and calming being with him doing domestic things in life.

I hated how much in love I was with him 'cos I knew I had to shake that feeling away. He was never going to have feelings for me. I was a regular human being, and Spencer Walter Reid was a genius. He deserved better, he was actually never to think about me that way, and I refused to ruin our friendship with those feelings.

- "So, Comic-con is coming. What are we doing this year?"- I asked as I drove us to Quantico.

- "I was thinking we should do something classic,"- he looked at me, nearly beaming on his seat- "We haven't done Star Wars yet."

- "Really?"- I frowned, confused- "All these years? Are you sure?"

- "(Y/N), eidetic memory,"- he argued, and I chuckled- "So, how do you feel about Leia?"

- "Do I have to be Leia 'cos I'm a girl?"- I asked him, and he flustered right away.

- "What? No, you can be whoever you want to be. I was just, it came to my mind... I didn't,"- I giggled and looked at him for a second.

- "I'm messing with you, Batsy. I always wanted to dress as Leia. Surprisingly, I never had. Padme once, it was a mess, but never Leia. Who are you planning to be?"

- "Maybe Luke... or Obi-Wan. Morgan suggested C3PO once."

- "If I'm Leia, you should be Han,"- I don't know why I said that out loud. I thought about it, I pictured it in my head, but I knew I shouldn't have said it. Then why did those words leave my mouth? I don't know.

- "Han Solo... yes... yeah, sure. Of course! We can pick our outfits this weekend."

- "Great! What do you think would look better? Slave Leia or classic all in white Leia?"- Spencer didn't answer. He just sipped his coffee and looked outside the window.

- "You would look good in both,"- his cellphone interrupted our conversations, and I thought it might be a case. But I was so wrong, it hurt.

- "Hello? Oh, hi, Ashley,"- I nearly hit the break as soon as I heard him saying her name, but instead, I turned around and looked at him.

- "Good, yes. On my way to work with (Y/N). Oh, that's good."

I didn't care what she was saying. I just needed to know why that bitch was calling him. I was blind in jealousy, and I was having a hard time hiding it.

- "Really? Emily? That's... that's great. Sure, we'll see you around, gotta go. Bye."

- "What the fuck?"- I swear, I didn't think what I was saying. Those words just slip through my lips straight from my guts. I hated Seaver.

- "That was Ashley."

- "Figured when you said "Hi Ashley." What? Are you best friends with her now?"

- "What? No! No way! She just wanted to say hi... and... She.... asked for my number 'cos she wanted to help her with some of the academy's projects,"- Spencer was so nervous he actually stuttered as he answered my simple question.

- "Of course, she did,"- my voice was bitter and hurt, but most of all, ironic. And I don't know if Spencer didn't want to understand me or actually didn't get the hint, but he just continued talking.

- "She wanted to tell me she requested her remedial training be at the BAU."

- "What?!"- that wasn't subtle. I actually yelled- "I'm gonna have to see her again?"

- "If Hotch approves..."

- "Fuck!! That's awful!!"- I hit the wheel, frustrated.

- "She's not a bad person, (Y/N). Her dad was a murderer, but that doesn't mean..."- I turned to look at Spencer for a second, and he just shut up- "Sorry."

- "I don't like her, Spencer."

- "Yes, I know."

- "Her dad killed my aunt!!"

- "I know..."

- "And on top of that, that bitch is..."

I had to bite my lips and focus on the road, actually holding my breath for a few seconds, just not to open my mouth and ruin it all.

The main reason why I hated Ashley Seaver wasn't just because of what her father had done. That itself was enough to keep her away. But on top of that, she was flirting with Spencer. She wasn't even subtle about it; she was nearly all over him. I saw her! She wanted him, and he had no idea! He was blind to her attention. Unless he liked it. Did he? Shit, I hoped not.

- "She what?"- Spencer whispered, scared of my reaction.

- "She plays the pity card the whole time. Bad things happen to all of us. You don't have to make it who you are, she does, and she expects sympathy."

I grabbed my muffin and took a big bite of it. Spencer sighed and stayed quiet for a moment, giving me space to decompress, I think.

- "Did you know the origins of carrot cake are disputed by many countries?"- I looked at Spencer, and he nodded- "Many food historians believe carrot cake originated from the English recipe of carrot puddings, eaten by Europeans in the Middle Ages when sugar and sweeteners were expensive, and many people used carrots as a substitute for sugar."

- "My mom would fight all those historians and convince them she invented it. Her carrot cake is the best."

- "And I would agree, the cake she baked for your last birthday was amazing."- I nodded and heard him chuckle as I kept my eyes on the road. I wanted to focus on the memories of my last birthday and how fun it was, but something was bugging me.

- "And why did she call you to tell you what she wanted to do?"- I parked the car outside the BAU and turned to Spencer. He opened his mouth, but no word came from it. So I asked him again.

- "Honey, why did Seaver call you to announce she would take the remedial training at the BAU?"

- "It... might... had been my idea,"- he whispered and held his satchel tight against his body. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it.

- "Why on earth did you do that, Spencer?!"- I shouted as I got out of the car, grabbed my purse, my clean go bag in case we had a case, and started walking towards the building.

- "It wasn't like a suggestion. She just..."

- "I can't believe it!!"

- "It doesn't have to be that bad! It's just for a few weeks..."

- "Hopefully, Hotch won't accept."

- "(Y/N), come on,"- Spencer held my hand and stopped me- "This is not like you. Yeah, you don't like her, but you are making it a big deal, and it's not."

- "I'm starting to think you are crushed on her,"- I didn't want to say those words. They just slipped.

- "What!? Why? No!! I'm not!"- the high pitch on Spencer's voice was a clear sign of how uncomfortable he was with the conversation.

- "Then why are you defending her?"

- "I am not! I'm just saying maybe you are acting a little bit... irrational about this whole thing. She hasn't done anything bad."

- "Other than jeopardizing the whole case yesterday?"

- "Right, other than that..."

I felt Spencer's hand in mine, and I swear, I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt. It kept sending shivers all over my body. His thumb rubbed small circles on my skin, probably trying to calm me down, and it worked. I followed it with my eyes for a second as I took a few deep breaths and nodded.

- "Ok, I won't make a big deal if she stays."

- "Thank you."

- "Just... don't ask me to be her friend."

- "You don't have to be her friend."

Spencer stood in front of me and smiled. I swear all I could think of was kissing him. And a part of me felt it was getting harder and harder to resist. He put on his sunglasses and kept his hand in mine for a moment until Penelope's voice took us from our little bubble.

- "Good morning, my wonder babies!! Ready to fight crime?"

I actually didn't know what I was getting into.

Hotch had taken the day off. We were around the one-year anniversary of Haley's death, and according to what Rossi explained to us, Jack wasn't feeling so good. It was said it would be just a day or two, but I had the feeling it might be a couple of weeks. Hotch would always put himself second, but he would do whatever it took to keep him safe when it came to his son.

Morgan had been asked to take a trip to Petersburg Federal Correctional Complex to do a risk assessment on a case, so Spencer, Prentiss, and I were in the bullpen. Garcia was in her office, and Rossi was in a meeting with Strauss. I'd say it was a very calm morning, catching up with all the pending paperwork we had. Spencer had just gotten me a cup of coffee when I heard Seaver's cheerful voice.

- "Hi guys!"- she walked in with a big smile and waved- "How are you?"

Spencer looked at me as we all said our hellos. I could almost read "Please, be nice" written all over his face, and for a moment, I was willing to do as told. I didn't want him to suspect why I was so annoyed by her after all.

- "I talked to Hotch"- Emily smiled at Seaver and moved a chair for her- He signed off your remedial training, and I'll be your training agent. I'll supervise your work. I already told Rossi too, so it's official.

Ashley jumped from her chair and hugged Emily. I rolled my eyes and stared at the file on my desk. I really wasn't ready to deal with her. I wasn't prepared to deal with someone trying to steal Spencer from me.

Ok, Spencer wasn't mine to keep, but we had been inseparable for four years, and I didn't want to lose that. I didn't want to lose him.

I had never been ready to deal with Spencer dating other girls. The few times girls had hit on him had been awful. Once, Morgan took him to a club when we were on a case, 'cos the unsub was picking his victims there, and he taught him how to pick up girls. The bartender ended up giving him her number 'cos my dorky best friend was charming. Derek still remembered that moment from time to time, quoting it as "The day he turned Spencer into a man."

I loved Derek, but fuck, I hated him sometimes.

- "Welcome to the team,"- Spencer waved at Seaver from his desk and turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

- "Yeah, welcome,"- I added and cut her a short smile.

- "I'm thrilled to join you guys for a few weeks. I always dreamt of being here. I'm ready for making it up after the last case."

- "Don't be so hard on yourself,"- Prentiss interrupted her and smiled friendly- "You remained calm under pressure, and the case was solved. That's all that matters."

I had to control myself not to snort after Emily's words. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on my desk like I had done before. I was so focused on it that I could have actually developed telekinesis skills and moved the freaking file with my eyes.

- "I just wanted to say thank you to all of you,"- Seaver's voice was soft, in a mix of fear, excitement, and... something else I couldn't read.

- "Especially you, Spencer. I really enjoyed our talk last night, and I have the feeling I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Thank you for the pizza. I owe you dinner."

- "Don't, it was nothing,"- Spencer flustered and stood up quickly, grabbing his pile of files and walking away, arguing he needed to ask Garcia something.

I did my best not to move a muscle. I didn't want Seaver to know how much I hated the fact she had shared what seemed to be a lovely evening with Spencer. One he didn't actually mention when we talked about what we had done the previous evening. Why did he decide to keep me in the dark? I couldn't understand that. Maybe he just didn't want me to know he actually had feelings for Seaver. Maybe he had asked her out, and because he knew I hated her (though he really didn't know why), he decided not to tell me what was going on.

I had been wasting all that time in love with Spencer. I knew I would never act on those feelings, and clearly, he didn't have feelings for me. So... maybe it was time to let him go.

How could I let Spencer Reid go when I never actually had him?

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @fandomtrash2405

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 16th, 2021

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝐹𝑢𝑛 𝑂𝑓 𝐻𝑖𝑚 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

Hongjoong was startled by the sound of the door opening. He watched as you scurried over to his desk, boxes in your hand that you set down on the floor so you could clear off the papers in his desk.

"May I ask what are you doing?" He finally asked when you began placing the boxes on the desk.

"I need your help. It's of utmost importance."

Hongjoong stared in confusion as you began taking out various table decorations in all shades of pink. He pointed at them and looked to you for an explanation.

"It's my cousin's baby shower this weekend and I promised to make the table decorations, but I don't know which one to pick..."

You held up 2 different options for him to look at.

"So I need your opinion."

Hongjoong sighed softly and began pondering over his choices. Sure, they all looked pretty cute already, but he felt like they could be better. He took one of the decorations from your hand and began taking some things off.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" You screeched in horror.

"Relax and give me a moment." He looked inside the boxes and took out the fabric glue and scissors so he could modify it to his liking.

Now you understood what his plan was. You knew he loved to modify clothes, so of course he'd try to modify these ornaments. You decided to just watch him and see what he'd come up with.

You were both so engrossed in his task, you didn't notice Mingi had been standing by the door, trying to get Hongjoong's attention. He cleared his throat loudly, finally catching both of your attentions.

"If you grannies are done with your knitting and sewing, I have some papers for the boss here to see."

Mingi walked over and handed the stack of papers to Hongjoong. He snorted when he took in the sight of Hongjoong holding the glue and pink bows in his hand.

"What? You're telling me that'll cause more damage than a gun and bullets?" Mingi teased him.

Hongjoong threw the glue tube at Mingi, who only feigned to be hurt before walking out of the room, laughing his ass off and planning to tell the others.

You and Hongjoong looked at each other before laughing yourselves.

"Ok. Now back to our task."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪 ﾟ･:*✿

Seonghwa hated it whenever anyone would even so much as touch him. If one of the other guys merely brushed against him, he'd already be pulling out his mini lint roller to dust away imaginary dirt that got on his suit.

"Seriously? You're acting like I got the black plague or something." Wooyoung told him when Seonghwa took out a disinfecting wipe to wipe his hands after Wooyoung shook them.

"Worse. You got hoe germs."

When they heard rumors he was dating, they brushed them off as lies.

"No way. Man can't stand being around other people too closely." Yunho said.

"People can't stand being around him." Wooyoung never missed an opportunity to take a jab at Seonghwa.

"I feel bad for who ever does date him." Hongjoong shook his head.

But it turns out the rumors were indeed true, and not only did they find out about you, but they were even more shocked to see Seonghwa practically make out with you in his office. There were so many things going on that normal Seonghwa would have frowned upon.

"Well well well. What have we got here?" Hongjoong smirked at the 2 lovebirds.

Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp.

"Seonghwa?! Letting someone sit on his desk? Whatever happened to 'don't touch my things?! You'll dirty them?' "

"Did he make you wash your hands before touching him?" Yeosang asked you curiously.

You simply blushed and looked to Seonghwa, wondering what was going on. Seonghwa pulled away from you to usher the boys out the room, threatening to throw bleach at them if they didn't stop. Locking the door, he went back to you and cupped your cheeks.

"Now....where were we my little honey bunch?" He leaned in to kiss you again.

"He even uses lovey dovey terms?!" Wooyoung's voice was heard from outside.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸 ﾟ･:*✿

Yunho proudly showed off the sonograms to the other guys.

"Look! You can already see her little hands forming."

The other guys had mixed reactions. While some like Seonghwa, San and Mingi were cooing along with him, Hongjoong, Yeosang and Jongho just awkwardly looked at each other, while Wooyoung was simply on his phone, not even paying attention.

"Need I remind you this was supposed to be an important meeting?" Hongjoong spoke up.

"Oh right! Sorry." Yunho quickly put away his phone and they all looked back at Hongjoong.

"Ok. As I was saying, they are to bring our shipment in on-"

He was interrupted once again by Yunho's phone ringing. Upon seeing it was you, Yunho immediately picked up.

"Hi love! How are you? How's my precious baby mama doing? Is our little dove doing ok?" He cooed into the phone.

Jongho and Yeosang began giggling, mimicking Yunho's love struck expressions and high pitched voice. Hongjoong was about to say something but Seonghwa interrupted.

"Say hi to Y/N for me!"

"Oh hold on! The boys wanna say hi!" Yunho put you on speaker.

"We do?" Wooyoung asked, finally looking up from his phone.

"Hi boys! How's it going?" You asked.

"Oh nothing much. Just witnessing how your husband turns into a baby when anything related about you and your bundle of joy is mentioned." Jongho said sarcastically.

Yunho pouted. " I do not."

"Oh really?"

Jongho turned to Yeosang and smiled like an idiot.

"Wanna see my baby's sonogram? Here let me show you!" Jongho made it a point to use his aegyo voice.

"Ooh! Y/N is getting rounder and chubbier and it's the cutest thing ever! She hates it but the pregnancy suits her well! I can't wait when I get her pregnant again." Yeosang played along adding the fakest laugh he could muster.

"Yes he can." Your voice reminded them that you were still there.

Yunho just blushed and giggled.

"You guys wouldn't understand! But one day you will."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

As one of the top snipers in the world, Yeosang had always had an image to uphold. He was rarely seen outside of work related events, he hardly talked and everyone swears he never smiles. His private life is practically classified as well, not even his best friend of 5 years could tell you if he has a family or not. To his friends, Yeosang is just cold and heartless.

"Guys.... is that who I think it is?"

San's voice had everyone looking at what he was pointing at. It took them all a minute to comprehend what they were looking at, but once they did, they were shook.

"It's Yeosang! And he's.....smiling?!" Mingi exclaimed, putting on his glasses to make sure he wasn't seeing things wrong.

"He's not just smiling, he's giggling!" Yunho added.

"And he has.......a girlfriend?!" Wooyoung was offended and hurt that he never knew about this information.

They all stood there, watching as Yeosang and you acted all loving towards each other. They couldn't believe The Kang Yeosang was capable of falling in love. The rest of the boys looked at each other and smirked. This was perfect.

Few days later, they cornered. Yeosang at work.

"What do you dumbasses want now?" He asked, his usual cold gaze on his features.

"We want to meet your girlfriend." San replied.

For a brief second, Yeosang's eyes betrayed him, expressing shock that they knew, but he quickly composed himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Yunho quickly took out his phone and presented their evidence in the form of pictures. Yeosang looked at them and gulped, finally realizing his secret was out. He stared at the floor in shock.

Yunho laid his head on Yeosang's shoulder and teased.

"Now unless you want them all over the internet, I suggest you let us meet her."

Yeosang pushed him off and sighed.

"Looks like I have no choice......"

The other guys cheered at the success of their blackmail. But it was a little too early for a celebration as Yeosang finished his sentence with:

"But to take you all out."

They all shut up and looked at him.

"Please say you're joking."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷 ﾟ･:*✿

"I told you guys I can't go, I already made plans."

San sighed as his friends wouldn't quit bothering him about going over to Seonghwa's house to get drunk.

"You liar!" Mingi exclaimed through the phone.

"That's rich coming from you. Now bye."

San hung up his phone and decided to turn it off so they wouldn't bother him. He then went back inside the kitchen, where you were already placing the first batch of cupcakes in the oven.

"Baby can you set a timer for 30 minutes?"

San grabbed the stop watch and promptly did as you asked. He then pulled you into a hug and just held you there.

"Don't tell me you're planning on doing this for 30 minutes." You giggled.

"Precisely my plan."

Meanwhile, the other guys were in Seonghwa's car, who was driving well above the speed limit to get to San's house. If he wouldn't come over to them, they'd come over to him.

"We're not letting him ditch us on dude's night." Mingi said.

They quickly went up to his apartment and rang the doorbell. 5 minutes passed though and no answer. They looked at each other for options before Jongho stepped up and kicked the door open.

Hearing the door slam, San and you got scared, thinking it was an intruder. San quickly pulled you behind him, ready to attack whoever came in.

"Surprise! We- AAAAH!" Wooyoung screamed, as he was hit with frosting that San squirted into his eyes.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" San asked as he helped Wooyoung regain his vision.

"We're doing guy's night out at your place!" Jongho said happily.

"What? No! I told you guys I had plans!" San repeated.

"Well........ here we were thinking you had mission plans.....but instead...it's baking plans." Hongjoong snorted as he looked at the half-decorated cupcakes on the kitchen island.

"I promised my baby we'd make cupcakes for her nephew's birthday party tomorrow." San explained as he went back next to you and wrapped his arm around you, looking at you with fluttering eyes.

"Wow.......you've gone soft Choi San." Seonghwa pointed out.

"What! No I have not!" San defended himself.

"You're softer than this cupcake. Delicious by the way." Yeosang popped up behind him, half a cupcake already in his mouth.

"Hey! That's not for you!"

✿*:･ﾟ𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲ﾟ･:*✿

It was all tension in the room. A recent mission had gone terribly wrong and what was supposed to be a calm discussion soon turned into a jabbing fest between the men.

"I told you all we shouldn't trust those Stray Kids, but nobody ever listens to me." Mingi huffed.

"Mingi, that's because the last time we listened to you, you cost us 1.5 million dollars!" Hongjoong reminded him.

"Meanwhile you almost costed us our lives today, not to mention about 200 of our best men. What kind of leadership is that?"

Soon Hongjoong and Mingi were up in each other's faces, each waiting for the other to throw the first punch so he can retaliate. The other guys hesitated between telling them to back off or let them blow off some steam.

"Please! We both know you don't have the guts to fight me. I will literally murder you with my bare fists! Don't think I won't hesitate to punch your little face into-"

A knock interrupted Mingi's threat to Hongjoong. He stormed over to the door, ready to shoot whoever dared to interrupt him. He briskly opened the door.

"The fuck you ass- Y/N! Baby, what are you doing here?"

His tone immediately went down once he realized it was only you. You smiled up at him and held out his holster for him.

"You left your gun back home. I was worried you wouldn't be able to defend yourself without it." You answered him.

Mingi blushed and took it from you.

"Awww baby, you really didn't have to. And besides, you know I don't like you carrying things like these. You might accidentally hurt yourself." He whined cutely at you.

The other guys were on the verge of laughing. It was always funny to see how quickly Mingi went soft and sweet for you.

"All right, I promise I won't do it again."

You held out your pinkie to him, which he linked with his own before holding your hand up to kiss it.

"I'll see you later. Love you sweetheart."

With a peck to your lips, he watched as you walked away, letting out a blissful sigh once you were out of sight.

"Ok Romeo, we get it. You're in love and it's gross. Can we get back to what we were saying before I break this table out of anger at this lovey dovey mush?" Jongho complained, groaning at the loving scene that just took place.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

"Hyung? Can you buy this for me?"

Jongho held out a bag of chips to Wooyoung, who just scoffed.

"We're in the middle of stalking someone and you're seriously asking me to buy you snacks?" Wooyoung couldn't believe the younger member.

"Hey. We need to look as normal as possible and it's a store! Come on! Buy them for me."

Jongho actually made puppy eyes at Wooyoung but to no avail, he wasn't budging for nothing.

"I'll pay you back later! I left my wallet in the car." Jongho was begging by now.

"No. I, Jung Wooyoung, don't buy anything for anyone but myself."

Just then his phone rang and he picked up.

"Hi pumpkin! How are you? Hmmm? No I'm not busy! Just here at the store with Jongho." He spoke into the phone.

Jongho rolled his eyes.

"Oh no! My little baby is feeling bad? We can't have that." Wooyoung pouted when he heard you were ailing.

Jongho raised his eyebrow at Wooyoung.

"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll get everything for you. See you soon. Bye love."

Jongho thought he was going to barf when Wooyoung actually made kissing noises into the phone.

"Ok, we need to get pads, tampons, ice cream and chocolate asap." Wooyoung declared as he began walking to the freezer aisle.

"What?! No way! How embarrassing!" Jongho crossed his arms in defiance.

"Come with me. That's an order." Wooyoung practically dragged Jongho, who just groaned and complained the entire time.

"Why are you like this Hyung? You weren't like this before. It's so ewww!" Jongho cringed.

"Because Jongho, this is what love does to you."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸 ﾟ･:*✿

You were currently cuddled up to Jongho. He had promised only 25 more minutes and he'd take you home, but it quickly turned into an hour and you were tired. You were sitting on his lap, your face hidden in his neck, arms clutching his shoulders as you drifted off to sleep.

Jongho kept one arm around you, the other busy filling out some paperwork. Sensing you were falling asleep, he began to sing softly to you, he knew you loved falling asleep to the sound of his voice. He continued to sing even after you completely fell asleep, smiling occasionally at how adorable you looked.

The door opened and Yunho came in. He was about to ask something, but Jongho held a finger to his lips, ushering him to stay quiet so he wouldn't wake you up. Yunho looked at you two in shock before smirking.

"Aren't you two the cutest things ever?" Yunho teasingly whispered.

Jongho rolled his eyes at him before handing him the papers he came for. Feeling him move, you slightly shifted. Scared of waking you up, Jongho quickly held you closer and began to sing again, happy that he got you to stay asleep.

Yunho clutched his heart and cooed faintly. He actually took out his phone to take a picture.

"So cute." He showed off the picture to Jongho.

Not amused, Jongho held his fist up to Yunho, silently threatening to break him if he didn't leave.

"Ok ok calm down lover boy. Have a good night." Yunho left you two alone.

After a minute or two, Jongho got up and began carrying you bridal style to the car. He had just gotten you in the passengers seat and he himself got on the driver's side when you whined softly and rubbed your eyes.

"Jongho?" You called out.

"It's all right baby. Go back to sleep." He whispered softly to you as he strapped you into the car, kissing your temple before turning the car on to go back home with you.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[redhairedfeistynerd]

Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 1

A/N: I'm months behind on everything but here is my piece for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork  and @sagechanoafterdark  Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words: 5800+

Part 2 will be up soon!!

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be reposted anywhere.

There’s a muffled humming coming from somewhere under a pile of paperwork and takeout containers on your floor. The sound is constant, piercing, and irritating. Eyes still closed, head pounding from an evening of too much wine and schmoozing, you reached down towards the sounds and ran your hands over the stack, following the vibrations of your phone. Once found, you yanked it away from it charging cord and used every ounce of energy you had, pulling the phone close to your face. Opening one eye a sliver to hide from the light, you read from the bright screen.

Hey, listen, I know we've had our differences the last few years but I think it's time we put all of it behind us. I saw Rosie the other day and asked her how you were doing but she kept it pretty vague. I hope to hear from you soon, even if it's only a text to say you’re doing okay.

Reading over the message a second time, in utter shock that he had the audacity to message you and pissed that he even dare ask your friend about how you were; you decided to turn off your phone and toss it into a pile of clothing on the floor.  

What. A. Dick.

Rolling back over into your cozy blanket cocoon, falling back asleep, temporarily pushing away any thoughts of the man from your past.

The message was all but forgotten until later that day when a familiar song came on the radio and you couldn’t help but think about how you had both downed several beers at a pub and sang it at the top of your lungs. Maybe it had been a dream earlier and the text never happened. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, hoping it was all your imagination, you indeed saw that there was a text.

The ever-so-hard to escape blue eyed man, was trying to weasel his way back into your life and you weren't having any of it. Dropping the phone into the bag sitting at your feet, getting up from the desk, shaking out a bit to ease the tension that one tiny text had accumulated.  

"Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't think about him," you repeated the words over and over, hoping to push all thoughts aside. In stocking feet, walking around the small hole you called your office and continued to shake it out. The calm didn’t last as long as you hoped, anger slowly creeping up and out.  

"Stupid frikkin guy!! UGH!" The sound of your disgruntled cry, shook you a bit, the frustration clearly coming out louder than expected. "All right, settle yourself down, you can't let him have this sort of pull over you," hoping the self-talk would work, you ran your hand through your hair and walked back to the desk. "Delete it, pretend that you never looked at it and it will go away."  

There was no way the struggle going on inside your head would even fathom deleting the text. Truth be told, as much as you cursed and hated the thought of him trying to slide back into your life, there wasn’t a month that went by without a thought of him crossing your mind. A song playing, a Romcom from the 90s, the pizza you both loved so much. Why couldn’t you escape him?

You shot off a quick text to Rosie, curiosity was killing you now, itching inside you, desperate to find out how the hell you had come up in conversation.

Y/N -Word on the street is that you ran into a clown I once knew; I’m curious what was said.”

Rosie: Oh no, he didn’t.

Y/N: He did and it was pathetic

Rosie: It was a super quick interaction. Both of us waiting for a coffee and being friendly. He asked about you almost right off the bat though. It almost rendered me speechless after what happened.  

Y/N - So, that’s it? What did you say? Did you tell him how fantastic my life is going and that I probably wouldn’t even remember him?

Rosie: you and I both know, that that’s a load of shit. I’ve had wine nights with you, that man-child has never left that brain of yours.  

Y/N Shut up.

Rosie: Really though, it was super quick. I said you were doing charity work and were still in the city, happy and healthy.  

Y/N- good to know. I’ll just sit here and pretend his message never happened then. Carry on as usual.  

Rosie: see you later this week?

Y/N Definitely, bye babe.

Placing your phone down on your desk, you continued opening your mail: thank you cards for volunteering, appreciation notes from parents and kids, and requests for you to help out at other groups around town. The next month would be hectic, with collecting the many donations from around the city. You had to finish training several new volunteers that would assist with wrapping, delivering, and presenting gifts to the charities and individual families that you helped support during the Winter months.  

It became a mechanical process, opening envelope after envelope, that you weren’t paying attention to the return addresses. It wasn’t until you read the first few lines that the letterhead caught your eye and did it burn.  

Blue-eyed monster strikes again via his mother.

You knew it wasn’t the case though, his mom, was offering a bursary to some of the kids you helped out and she was reaching out to you and other groups in the city to help.  

It didn’t take much to pull your mind from work once you had read the Evans name on the letter. Bits and pieces shifted in your mind; you couldn’t fight it any more today. The letter slipped to the floor and you sat back against your desk, the memories that you had been pushing away, were flooding back.

It all started innocently about three years ago, bumping into one another around town, having several acquaintances that knew each other, and a tendency to make the other smile when the lamest dad jokes were thrown around. His face was incredibly animated and you loved the way his eyebrows would jump up while he spoke, there was mischief behind them that you wanted to discover. Even a quick peek, would ease the curiosity.

You recognized that laugh from across the room of the gallery – full of heart and genuine. Turning around, you spotted Chris mingling with other attendees of the charity event. You were here to help raise money for low-income families in the community that could not afford music lessons or music therapy for their children. The profits from the art sold this evening, would help buy instruments for the school that was set to open the following month. You knew Chris had donated and you had volunteered to help teach the parents with baby's groups every second weekend. It was the least you could do, you had a bit of extra time and needed to give back to the community that helped you and your family out during your childhood.

“How did I know you would be here?”  

You must have zoned out thinking about that boisterous laugh that you didn’t see Chris walking over to you. You smiled as he leaned in wrapping one arm around you, a beer being held in his other hand. His smell was intoxicating – a mixture of orange and the woodiness of sandalwood. Would it be wrong if you pulled him closer to take a quick whiff before he pulled away?  

He took his time moving back from you, winking as his arm shifted back to his side and lifting the beer to his mouth with the other, take a long sip.

“So, you out here to buy some art?” he asked, taking another drink.

“No, not buying tonight. One of the pieces is mine, I donated it to help out.”

“You have something up for sale here?” He questioned, taking a quick spin around to quickly look at all the art hanging around the gallery. “Which one is yours?”

“Oh, I am NOT telling you that. I think I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one is mine. You can play the role of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Now, that’s just cruel.”

“Cruel? Nah. Mysterious? Yes. Are you up for a little game of 5 questions to help you out? If you can guess which one is mine, then I guess you have bragging rights because I haven’t discussed my art with anyone here. If you don’t figure it out, then I suppose it will be a mystery forever.”

“Oh, I KNOW I’ll be able to figure this out!” Chris says loudly, clapping his hands together and popping each shoulder up and down. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Here’s the deal, you ask me whatever you need to to figure out which one is mine. Obviously, you can’t ask which one is mine as one of your questions. Ready?”

“Ready!” Chris said enthusiastically. He took your hand and brought you to the front of the room to observe the first of the paintings. “Let’s take a quick gander and then I’ll start. How does that sound to you?”

“Whatever you need to do, Evans.”

Chris pulled you from canvas to canvas, still holding your hand as he inspected each piece. “First question. “Did you only use paint for the one you donated?”

“NOPE, next question, Evans!”

“Okay, okay, I got this,” he bounced around on the spot and turned his head to quickly glance over the works close to him. “Shit, I guess I should have asked if what you donated was a painting, right?”

You walk a circle around Chris “Is that your question?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

His blue eyes flick quickly to yours before he says, “Ya, actually...ya. That’s what I want to know. Did you submit a painting?”

“Yes, one of my paintings is hanging somewhere in one of these giant rooms.”  

“You really don’t think that I’m capable of figuring this out, do you? Ye of little Faith,” he smirked and pulled you to the back of the dark room. “Any reason why it’s so dark back here?”

“Maybe that’s what the artist wanted?”

“Here’s question three then,” he said as he pulled you closer to him, your eyes looking into his as he asked. “Is you painting in the dark room?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

Chuckling, you take hold of his hand and lead him to another section of the gallery. “I don’t want you to miss any pieces, so take a look around here before you ask number three.” He squeezed your hand and looked up, the ceiling adorned with a beautiful piece; birds in flight but as they reached the furthest wall, the began to decay, until only single feathers remained.    

“Here’s number three, ready?” He looked to his left where you were nodding your head back. “Did you mainly use your hands for this piece? I mean, instead of brushes or other tools.”  

You were silent for a moment before answering, did you want to tell him how much of yourself you had put into this piece? That what the brushes couldn’t do, you did with your hands and arms? “I did. This one needed more than brushes.”

Chris smiled at you, “feel like telling me what else you used?”

“Not a chance,” you said, grabbing a glass of white wine from the tray passing by. “You want a glass?”  

Chris held up his bottle, its content revealing that it was still half full. “I think I have a pretty good idea which one is yours, so these last two questions are going to be good.” With two large gulps, he finished up the rest of his beer. “So, what happens when I guess, do I get some sort of prize? Maybe you could paint me or something?”

“If you mean, could I dump a bucket of paint over your cocky head, then, sure!”

Chris burst out laughing, pulling you into him for a squeeze.  “I love how you make me laugh and I bet you would actually do that to me. But really, if I do guess, what happens?”

You kept your body close to his, his arm still holding you close as you responded, “what do you think would be suitable prize, Chris? Do you want me to paint something, make you a prince? Maybe something of you and Dodger? Or maybe I could paint your like one of my French girls.”

“I would love one of your pieces, but if I win this, I’d like to take you out. Is that okay with you?”

Your grip tightened around the wine glass, trying not to let it slip to the floor. It was a shock, to hear that this man, one that you had flirted with for months, was asking if you wanted to go out with him.  

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I... I didn’t expect you to ask me that,” you answered, fidgeting with your hands out of awkwardness.

“It’s ok, you can say no! It’s all right to tell me no.”

“No. No. I’d love that. If you can guess which one is mine, I will gladly go out with you. Dinner, drinks, walk – whatever you like.”

Chris placed his empty beer on the table closest to you. “Ready for my last two questions?”

“As ready as one can be.”

“Is your piece hung on the wall as a landscape?”

“Look at you Evans, you got another one.”

Chris rubbed his hands together, his smile wide and full, clearly showing that he was on a winning streak. “Here’s number four and then I’ll go right to the painting I think, the painting I know it is. Chris walked back and forth in front of you before turning to face you with his last question. You had grabbed another glass of wine and took a sip, waiting for his winning question. “Does your piece use more than black and white? – so many of these photos, sculptures, paintings are very monotone.”

“You’re good Evans and yes, I filled my picture with the rainbow. So, take my hand and show me what the answer to this mystery is.”

His warm hand took your free one and he walked you to one of the side rooms – this room was full of colourful pieces. You could feel the heat flushing across your cheeks and a thin layer of sweat formed at your hairline. Chris stopped and turned towards the back wall and pointed to one of the paintings. “I’m pretty sure this one is yours,” he said with a half-smile. “Am I right?”

You had wished, during those few minutes he had suggested that he take you out, that he would guess which one is yours. But what were the chances with over 40 pieces around you? You tried to keep your body from slouching before you softly answered “No. That’s not mine.”

The happiness in his eyes left quickly once you responded.

“Are you going to tell me which one is yours though?” He asked you eagerly.

“No, I think I’m going to keep that secret to myself. Thanks for the fun, Evans, I should get home. Another day of charity work for me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’d still like to take you out though, will you let me do that, please?”

“I guess we’ll have to see what the future brings,” you replied, giving him a little wink and a squeeze to his hand, you took one last sip of your wine before heading to the coat check.

Chris watched you as you wrapped a scarf around your neck and slipped your arms into the long, wool coat.  Walking back over to him and wrapping your arms around him, it was a quick hug and he barely had an arm around you before you were stepping back. With a smile on your face, you turned and stepped out into the night. Chris watched as you turned right and glanced his way, your hand lifting up and into a quick wave. He couldn’t stop smiling and knew he had to see you again.

It didn’t take long for that to happen. You couldn’t get him out of your thoughts and dreams after the encounter at the gallery. He really was something; funny, compassionate, a hard worker, and you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly good looking.

After an event in town and a few drinks later, it was easy as pie, asking him over for dinner. He had initially thought you were pulling his leg.  

Chris couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh ya, sure you want me to come over for dinner," laughing at your request and taking a sip of his IPA.

The pink that had flushed across your cheeks when you had shyly asked him was disappearing like an ice cube in hot soup. He picked up on the change immediately and apologized profusely. "I didn't think you were serious! You are serious, right?”

"Why wouldn't I be? It's just dinner," you shrugged. “I don’t see why you would have such a dramatic response to a simple question.” There was an awkwardness now and maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to come over. “Sorry, I thought since we kind of hand a friendship blooming and I tend to invite friends over...”

He took hold of your arm and pulled you into his chest, a big smile across his face. “I'll come by; don’t you worry. Which day this week works for you? I'll be out of state after this week for a bit, so hopefully something the next few days will work for you,” he said, squeezing you a bit before he released his hold on you.  

Trying not to be awkward, you responded "This week will definitely work, tomorrow or the next day are open for me."

"Let’s go for tomorrow, okay?  Would you like me to bring anything?” Chris smiled  

“Be sure to bring the dog, he's the one I'm really inviting.”

"Well, fat chance of me coming by now, I see where your allegiances lie, " he said half closing his eyes and glaring at you in a teasing manner.

"Ok then, just drop the dog off, I'm sure he'll enjoy the feast."

Chris couldn't help laugh at the way you were carrying on with this charade. The half-smile that was currently on your face was one full of mischief and it was something that he had come to enjoy the last few times he had run into you around town. He could see a sparkle in your eyes, something that he didn’t notice before today and it was something, that he could get used to.  

“A thought crossed my mind... what exactly would have happened if I had guessed right?”

“Since that didn’t happen, I guess you’ll never know,” you said with a shrug and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You sure like to tease me.”

“What exactly am I teasing you over?”

“The opportunity to be in your presence again,” he replied, a slight blush crossing his cheeks.

Finishing up your drink, you placed the glass back on the cardboard coaster and turned to face him.  

**

“What the hell is THIS?” he asked grabbing at the green monster type thing that was hanging from a lamp in your living room

"That, is a flying frog - one of those weird ass dad gifts - he's always finding these peculiar creatures for me and I can't seem to part with them.

"It's sure ugly"

"You're ugly!” You shouted back at him and burst into the most beautiful smile he had seen cross your face.

"What are you, 12?

"Sometimes,” you replied.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh at you and pull you into a quick side hug. "You're a funny one" he feels you squeeze him back softly, a smile crossing his face at the quick interaction.

"I better go take a peek in the oven and make sure everything is baking the way it should. Make yourself cozy, I'll be right back."  You looked back to him, pointing at the couches before turning and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Turning you head back, forgetting to offer him a drink but his long strides had brought him right behind you quickly, almost colliding with your body. He tripped up a bit and moved his hand to your hip to catch himself.

"I want to see what you're up to in here, see what the chef is cooking up.” Chris resting his chin on your shoulder to peek at what you were stirring on the stove.

“You couldn’t sit still and wait for me to come back, did you miss me that much,” you teased.

“I couldn’t stand to be apart from you for a second longer.”

“That is the cheesiest lines, Evans. Does shit like that work for you?”

“What matters is, if it’s working on you. So, is it?”

You hummed, refusing to answer the question and carried on taking care of the food in the oven. Satisfied with how everything looked, you turned the timer back on and offered Chris a drink. Agreeing on wine, you pulled a bottle from the rack, passed the stemless glasses to Chris, grabbed his hand, and lead him back into the other room. Sitting on the larger of your two couches, Chris took a place beside you, taking the bottle from your hand, opening the bottle, and pouring you a generous glass before pouring his own.  

“To friendship,” he said raising his glass

“To friendship, good food, and drinks,” you added and brought your glass to his, a quick clink, and sips were taken.  

Dinner was ready within the hour and you both continued to chat while enjoying your meal.  

“That was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time, thank you”, complimented Chris as he wiped his mouth with the napkin when he had finished his last bite.  

The compliment brought the feeling of heat to your face and out of awkwardness you almost knocked your glass over as you reached for the wine.

“Want a refill?” You asked, holding up the second bottle of red that night. “You have good taste in wine, Mr. Evans, this wine is top notch,” you said, looking over the label of the wine he had brought with him.

Chris smirked and slid the glass to his left “I’m glad you think so, I’ll definitely have another. This should probably be the last one though, I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome.” He watched as you poured, your hair falling forward as the wine glass filled. “Cheers, thank you for the invite and many thanks for a delicious meal. You are constantly surprising me with your talents.”

“You aren’t overstaying. I’m enjoying your company and don’t want you to leave yet. Here, let me show you what I’m working on for this year’s event,” you said and pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and slid your finger across the screen. Shifting your body across the cushions toward Chris, you held the phone out towards him.  

“What is it you are putting on this year?”

“Another charity event, it’s to help out the single parents that live in the community. I try to donate as much time to charities as possible.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“I want everyone to have a special holiday season, you do it. I see that you donate time and money to charities.”

“I have the means to help and giving back is extremely important to me.” Chris looked through a few more of the photos before placing the phone down next to him on the couch.  

Reaching over to take her phone, Chris put his hand over yours and slid closer. “I know you always think I’m joking around with you when I say how much I love seeing you smile but I’m being 100% honest. Your smile is contagious and I feel like it lights up anywhere we are. It’s a beautiful smile and its part of why I’m so attracted to you.”  

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Oh shush, you!”  you said pushing your hand into his chest, your smile wider than he had seen before.  Again, he put his hand over yours and pulled you to him gently with his other hand.  He brought you close, enough to hold you against him for a hug. He watched as your eyes tried to find a joke hidden in his face but you quickly realized that there was something else there. You weren’t sure who moved first as your lips met quickly enough that your teeth clacked together and you swore in pain.  

“Oh fuck, only I would ruin an almost perfect moment. I’m such an-

He pulled you to his lips again, kissing you softly and trying not to laugh at the look on your face.

“Am I a joke to you, Evans?” you asked, kissing him back on the lips.

“Oh, not at all, I didn’t want to have to explain to people we know how I broke your teeth though. I mean, I could make up some ridiculous story about it, could be fun,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, bringing yourself back up to face Chris and pull him by his shirt towards you and kissing him without any stupid errors. You could taste the wine on him, the sweetness adding to the softness of your kiss. He took the lead, pulling you closer and slipping his tongue delicately across your bottom lip before deepening the kiss.  

Your eyes opened when you hear Chris let out a soft moan, not expecting to hear such a sound from him before you could emit one. He did it again and you felt it all the way down your spine and into your soul. Your hands, still in idiot mode, found their way to his hair, and were quickly taking apart his well-coiffed hair by running your hands through it.

“How does your hair smell so damn incredible?

“How do you taste so fucking delicious?

You pulled back, staring him in the eyes “Hmm, maybe you need to taste a bit more, clean that palate of yours,” you teased.

“Are you implying...”

“Not implying, the buffet is open, sir. Dig in.”

Chris’s face went a light shade of red.

“Oh, did I catch you off guard, Casanova?”

“I mean, no... no...’ he stumbled, “OK, fine yes, yes you did.”

“Well, now that you know, let’s get back to business. All right?”

You took control, standing up, taking his hand roughly and leading him to your bedroom.  

“I want you to take off my clothing, piece by piece. I want to see it on the floor and,” you said placing her finger on his lips, “no more talking,” you ordered.

“Anything you want,” he whispered into your ear and he ran his tongue down your neck so softly, that goosebumps raised over yours arms. His hands wandered from your shoulders and down your arms, taking hold of your hands and moving them to his belt buckle.  

Looking up to him, he nodded, silently urging you. Undoing the belt and still staring into his eyes. Moving to unzip his jeans and push the button away, Chris was unzipping the back of your dress, the cool line of metal touching your back as he drew the zipper down the length of your back.  

“You have goosebumps, do I need to warm you up?

“I’m hoping you get to that. Now, what did I say about talking?”

He smirked, pushing the dress down each shoulder until it dropped to the floor. Stepping out of it, you kicked it off with one foot, tossing it towards the wall. Chris’s hands were already roaming, his hands on your hips, fingers sliding into the thin elastic of your panties. His hands slipped across your warm flesh and directly to your cheeks, grabbing each one and squeezing, and pulling you closer to him. His lips were pressed into yours, his tongue back to searching for yours as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you to your bed. Gently, he sat you on the edge and leaned into you bringing you down to the mattress.  

His kisses ran down your sternum and across the soft skin of your breasts while his hands ran across the tops, gently running his fingers over your nipples.  

“Keep doing that, keep... keep touching my breasts, Chris.”

You could feel him pressing into you, his erection, warm and pushing against your core.

His hands squeezed your left breast while he brought his mouth down to your right, taking the nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it. Running his tongue around the bud, a chill running across your arms and a moan escaping your lips.

“I need to be in you now, please, y/n,” he said, kissing up your chest.

“In the drawer, condoms are there and hurry the hell up, Evans, I’ve waited forever for it to rain and fill up the well.”

He chuckled as he crawled over you, limbs knocking yours, a soft hand slapped across his ass, as you watched him open the nightstand drawer, which got stuck in his effort to hurry. “Come on Evans, you got this,”

“A little self-talk over there to get you motivated?”  

Chris smiled as he held up the package and smiled at you before sitting on the edge of the bed to roll the condom down his hard length. He was on you again, returning quickly, his lips pressing against yours. His lips, wet and warm, pushed harder against your mouth as he pushed your legs further apart, taking himself in his hand, rubbing across your wetness and pushing halfway. The groan that escaped his mouth while his tongue continued to touch yours, sent a tingling sensation down your body.  

“Chris, please...” you started to plead and before you could continue, he finished pressing himself into you with a grunt.

“Come on baby, show me how well you can move,” he said as he licked a strip across your neck.  

Wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your body against his, you let out a wail. Your bodies moved together, the pace quick, the sounds of your wetness echoing throughout your room.  

“Listen to the sounds we’re making, baby,” Chris panted and drove deeper into you. His body was incredibly warm against yours, the sweat making his chest glisten in what light crept in from the hallway.  

Chris slipped his hand down and his fingers met your warmth, crawling in to press against your clit. You clenched around him; a low moan escaped his mouth as he continued his movements.

“A bit more, a bit more,” you groaned, your back arching as Chris sped up. You looked up at him and reached your hand up to his face, holding on and staring into his blue eyes as you felt the tingling ball up within.  

Faster than expected and with one last swipe of his fingers, your orgasm spread out from within. Your shoulders tingled, spreading down to your fingers as you yelped out, the warmth of pleasure flowing down and across your body. Chris had shifted to move into you, helping your orgasm along as his own shuddering began. His lips were pressed into your neck, your name crossing his lips as he slowed his pace, and leaned onto one of his arms. He continued kissing up your neck and met your lips, heavy breaths escaping from both of your mouths.

“You’re incredible Y/N. Incredible.” One more kiss was pressed to your lips before Chris sat up, heading to the bathroom. You watched the light turn on and the door close behind him. You rolled to your side; a smile of satisfaction crossed your face as you closed your eyes.

Your heart jumped when you were woken by blankets being pulled half off of your naked body. It took you a few seconds to realize that a man, a very handsome man, was sleepy peacefully beside you. Turning to face his back and shimmying closer, you pulled the blanket to cover your shoulders and back. His muscular back stared at you and you couldn’t help but raise your hand to the pale skin, bringing your fingertip to his warm skin and drawing lines to connect each freckle.  

“You, know, that feels incredible, please don’t stop,” Chris asked, his words muffled into the pillows.

You continued using his back as your canvas; swans, sunrises, all the beautiful pieces of the world this man helped you see.  

Pushing back into you Chris spoke, “I’m going to be away next week, so I’m hoping I can see you again before I head out of town?”  

Your fingers drew the word yes on his shoulder in response. Chris turned over to face you, pulling you closer to him for a soft kiss. When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile and pulled him in for something a bit more passionate.

*

Bags packed and his dog set to stay with his family, he walked by the room Scott was in. “Hey, I’m heading out, the car is almost here. Give me a hug for the road.” His younger brother stood up and embraced him, giving him a few pats on the back and wishing him well for his short trip. “Will I see you when I get back or you heading back home?”

��I’m pretty sure I’ll be around still. Mom wants me to stay in town a bit longer. You okay if I’m still free loading off of you a bit longer than planned?”

“You know you’re more than welcome to stay,” he said as his phone chimed from his pocket. “Cars here. Take care of the fam and Dodger for me.” His brother gave him a smile and Chris grabbed his coat and carry-on from the table before heading to the front of the house. Dammit, he had forgotten to remind Scott again about what they had discussed earlier that day. “Scott, make sure you get that message to Y/N, okay? This schedule change was pretty last minute.” He shut the door before he heard a response from his brother. The driver held the door open for him and collected his bags to place in the trunk. He couldn’t get you out of his mind on the way to the airport; your smile, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your naked skin pressed against his. He couldn’t wait to be next to you again.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Valentine’s Day | Quackity

Requested? Nope 

Warnings? None? 

Summary: You and Alex spend your first Valentines Day together

Word Count: 1,542

Valentine’s Day. 

You had spent every Valentine’s Day up until this year doing one of two things. Eating massive amounts of discount chocolate, watching movies, and rolling your eyes at cute couples when you left your house. Or, doing basically the same thing with your best friend right next to you. Yes, you knew it was the most cliche of all cliches but you had never really found love in this life yet. 

Every person you had dated was a fling and didn’t amount to much. It didn’t bother you, you were fine with the fact that not everything led to true love. You were okay waiting for the right guy to walk into your life. 

Well, that was until you started dating Alex about six months ago. 

Alex had stolen your heart in the most cliche of romantic comedy movie ways possible. The John Green falling slowly and all at once, the slow burn type love, the first love where everything was floating on air. 

For a while, you had never thought you would get here but the vibe between you and Alex was unmatchable. You carried the same energy through and through and were so grateful to have met him. 

So, for the first Valentine’s Day ever, you had someone to spend it with. You didn’t expect much, you and Alex were never much for grand gestures surprisingly.

The two of you favored quiet gestures, little things that certainly didn’t go unnoticed between the two of you. It was helping each other with chores, it was soft words of encouragement, it was random hugs and touches, every little thing that amounted to so much. 

The most you expected from your love was dinner and a movie, quality time with Alex that was all you wanted. It was perfect for you. 

However, what you didn’t expect was your job to schedule you on Valentine’s Day. 

You originally planned to sleep in, laying in bed with Alex until one of you was forced to get up. You would patter around the house, most likely ordering food and watching a tv show until your dinner reservation that night. You’d come home, curl up together and watch a movie until you pass out. A perfect day. 

However, you now had to go to work. 

You promised Alex the minute you got home, you wouldn’t leave his side for the rest of the night. Alex had giggled lightly at your exaggeration, telling you that it’s okay if you missed valentine’s day. 

“Oh look, someone else without valentine’s day plans,” your coworker greets when you walk in. 

“Fuck off,” you respond and they giggle. 

“Aww is someone missing Alex?” 

“I’m gonna kill Brittany for scheduling me today,” you tell your coworker as you fix your shirt and pull at the ponytail plopped on top of your head. 

You slide across the register to look at your coworker and she offers you a knowing smirk. Your manager was ruthless, scheduling you guys when she knew you hated that shift time or on holidays you wanted off desperately. It sucked. 

You were hoping against hope the shift would go by fast and by 7 o’clock you could be home, wrapped up in Alex’s arms but you swore every minute was dragging like it was an hour. You couldn’t stand how slowly time was moving. 

“What time is it?”

“Same time you asked me 5 seconds ago,” your coworker sarcastically offers and you return with an annoyed smile. 

“Sorry,” you apologize and she shrugs her shoulders. 

Just as you start to walk away from her, hoping to get some things done and take your mind off the time, your coworker calls your name again. You turn to face her, half a question out of your mouth as you do so, when you’re stopped dead in your tracks. 

Alex stands in front of you, a dozen of your favorite flowers in one hand and chocolate in the other. He wears that same shy grin, the one that made your heart stop when you first saw it. The one that makes you smile instantly when you see it. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask giggling as you walk over to him. 

“Surprise,” he responds now grinning widely at you. 

“Baby, you didn’t have to.” 

“I know but I also know you were excited for today and I wanted to give you some extra love while you’re at work.” 

You can’t help the pout that turns into a wide smile spreading across your lips. You head straight for your boyfriend, tackling him in a tight hug which Alex happily receives. When you pull away just barely, your lips attach to his and he kisses you back, sliding an arm around your waist. 

“I don’t deserve you,” you say when you pull apart.

“I know,” Alex jokes. 

“I’ll see you in an hour?” he asks and you nod and smile. 

After Alex leaves, work thankfully flies by, with the help of your coworker never shutting up about how sweet your boyfriend was. And she was right, you had gotten extremely lucky. 

You drove home, excited to finally be done with work, and headed to spend some time with Alex. You’re practically running up the stairs to your apartment and as soon as you pull open the door, you gasp loudly. 

God, it was cliche. Rose petals lined the edges of the hallway, candles lit around the room offering dim light to the tiny apartment. As you step in, your eyes wander to the living room, where the couches are pushed together to make a makeshift bed. Alex draped a bedsheet over the couches and plopped a million pillows making it look comfy. 

He placed chairs behind the couch, stacked up, and draped another bedsheet over them with fairy lights no doubt from our room lazily placed around the fort. Your hand comes up to your mouth, a giggle escaping your lips as you do so. There was no way this was real. 

You finally start to make your way into the apartment, throwing down your keys and jacket. Your water bottle falls down on the table by the entryway and you’re bursting as you walk into the kitchen. 

The kitchen was just as much a dream as the rest of the apartment. Alex stands at the stove, cooking something that smelled heavenly. You now notice the soft music wafting through the apartment, a playlist Alex had put together for the two of you. On the kitchen table, the flowers Alex brought you at work sit in a beautiful vase. 

When Alex turns to look at you, hearing you come into the room he halts his movements. His eyes light up at the sight of you, a rare but heart-stopping smile reserved for you placed on his lips. 

“Hi baby,” he greets crossing the room to meet you. 

His hands meet your shoulders, trailing down to your hands before lifting them up again to wrap them around his neck. His hands slide around your waist, pulling you into him and you twist your fingers together behind his head as his hands bunch into your shirt. 

“You did all this?” 

“Well, it is our first valentine’s day,” he says and you giggle happily. 

You lean forward, pressing your lips to Alex’s and you can feel his smile against your lips. He dips you backward as the kiss deepens and you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He pulls you up as you break apart and reluctantly he pulls away to walk back over to the food. 

“Wanna change and we can eat and you can pick the movie after?” he suggests from the stove. 

“Ugh you are truly the love of my life,” you half-joke and Alex laughs. 

“Go dumbass,” he tells you endearingly. 

You head to your shared room and immediately grab something to change into. You slip into one of Alex’s shirts, and a pair of shorts before heading back out into the kitchen. 

Alex greets you at the small dining table, food dished out and he looks up at you. 

“There’s my girl,” he greets. 

You sit down and together you eat dinner. You talk about your day, how was work and the customers, and what Alex did all day as you were gone. After dinner, you offer to clean up while Alex sets up the movie. 

Once everything is clean and put away, you join Alex in the makeshift fort. He instantly wraps an arm around your waist, turning his body towards yours. 

“Disney movie?” Alex asks pushing his face into your neck. 

“Please.” 

You grab the remote from Alex, flipping through Disney plus until you end up at your favorite Disney princess movie. You press play before tossing the remote into the abyss. 

You turn towards Alex, slipping your arms around his waist and shoving your face into his chest practically ready to pass out. It didn’t matter what you and Alex did together, as long as you were together that’s all that mattered. 

Be it running errands, cooking dinner, watching a movie, or just sitting together, you loved every minute. Because Alex was the love of your life and no one had ever made you feel this special.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Snuggles and Sacrifices - Fred Weasley

Title: Snuggles and Sacrifices Pairing: Fred x fem!reader Summary: Reader isn’t going to let anything get in the way of her dreams, as silly as they may be A/N: for the anon who wanted a fic where Fred and the reader go to adopt a cat and the reader has an allergy attack! It’s a little short but very sweet! Feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!

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

“Hi love,” Fred greets softly as he leans against the doorway to his and Y/N’s bedroom.

Y/N looks up from the book in her lap, giving her boyfriend a warm smile. Her smile falters a little as she takes in his appearance. His tie has been loosened and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. There are bags under his eyes and his hair is messy, something he tends to do when he’s frustrated. He and George have been working extra-long hours at the store in the lead up to start of term at Hogwarts. He’s often gone in the morning before Y/N wakes up and he doesn’t arrive back home until she’s already eaten dinner.

“Come here, love,” she beckons, waving her wand so the books that had been sprawled out on their bed put themselves in a stack on their dresser. Fred immediately plops down on the bed, lying on his back with his head in Y/N’s lap so he can look at her. She places a light kiss to his lips and starts to run her hand through his hair.

“Mmm, feels good,” Fred sighs. His eyes close as he feels all the stress melt away from his body. The shop is no doubt one of the best things that happened to him, but he must admit that it’s hard work a lot of the time and a major cause of his stress. But returning home to Y/N always makes him feel better, and she is no doubt the best thing that ever happened to him.

Y/N scratches at Fred’s scalp lightly as her fingers run through his long hair. Molly has been begging him to get a haircut for weeks and Fred keeps saying he will once things with the shop slow down, but Y/N knows that he secretly keeps it long because she prefers it that way. “Long day?” she asks when Fred sighs.

Fred nods, opening his eyes so he can look at Y/N. “The longest. I wanted to leave after closing but there was a never-ending list of things to do. Every time I tried to sneak out it there was something else that we needed to do. I think the universe is trying to keep us apart my dear.”

Y/N laughs at Fred’s dramatics, leaning forward to kiss him again. “I don’t think it’s that serious, Freddie. You’re busy, I get it. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy while you’re gone,” she says, gesturing towards the large pile of books on their dresser.

After the war Y/N had decided to become a Healer, partially due to all the time she spent at St. Mungo’s with Fred after his brush with death. It destroyed her that there was nothing she could do to help him recover and as she watched the Healers work on Fred and the other patients it inspired her to do the same thing. She enrolled in the training program once Fred was back on his feet and now 2 years later all that stands in her way of becoming a full Healer is her final certification exam. It’s scheduled for the last week of October and Y/N has spent every waking minute preparing.

“I know,” Fred says with another sigh. “But I still feel bad. You’re here alone all day. You wake up alone, you eat alone. We moved in together so we could spend more time together, but it feels like I see you less than I did before.”

“You know it does get kind of lonely around here,” Y/N muses with a grin. “But I think I know something that we could do to make it less lonely,” she trails off, looking down at Fred expectantly.

Fred rolls his eyes and sits up, situating himself so he can look at Y/N. “No, Y/N we talked about this,” Fred scolds lightly. “We’re both way too busy right now to even entertain the idea.”

Y/N pouts at Fred and pushes his face away when he tries to kiss it away. “Come on, Freddie, please? It’s actually the perfect time! I’m still going to be home for the next few months, and by that time the shop won’t be as busy. It’s perfect.”

“I just don’t think it’s the right time for us to get a cat, love,” Fred says softly.

Y/N sticks out her bottom lip as she gets on her knees, her hands coming together in front of her like she’s praying. “Please, Freddie,” she begs while using her sweetest voice. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted in life.”

And she isn’t lying. Ever since she was a little girl all Y/N ever wanted was a cat. She’s not particularly sure why, but every year for her birthday she would ask for the same thing, a little black kitten. She would constantly beg her parents for one, but they always said no. And as much as she hated to admit it, they had a pretty good reason. Both Y/N and her mother are fairly allergic to cats.

Despite the sneeze fit she gets every time she’s around a cat, Y/N never let that stop her from yearning for one. It made going to Hogwarts quite difficult, especially after Hermione adopted Crookshanks. Cat hair was all over the common room and Hermione’s cat was always slinking about. Y/N could have told everyone about her allergies and Hermione could have kept Crookshanks in her dorm, but Y/N loved the fact that the orange kneazle was always around and cuddling up to anyone who would allow it. No matter how badly he irritated her nose she kept seeking him out, hiding her sneezes from all of her friends. She had gotten quite good at it too.

Y/N first brought up the idea of getting a cat when she and Fred moved in together 5 months ago. Y/N had been living in an apartment with a few of her friends from school and Fred was living with George and Angelina above the joke shop. Both places were far too crowded for them to get any alone time, so they decided to just go for it and get a place together. Y/N had figured it would be the perfect time to get a cat but Fred and vetoed it, saying that they were both too busy to be able to take care of a pet.

Fred sighs, unable to resist Y/N’s please. “I’ll think about it. Alright?”

Y/N squeals and wraps her arms around Fred’s neck, hugging him tightly. “You’re the best!” She pulls away to press kisses all over Fred’s face, a plan already forming in her head.

-

Sunday’s are usually reserved for family days at The Burrow.  Everyone spends the day hanging out and decompressing from the work week and Molly prepares an amazing dinner. Y/N looks forward to it every week, but this week she convinced Fred that they should skip out so they could spend the day alone together instead. Fred had agreed immediately, and Y/N could put her plan into action.

“It’s so nice, isn’t it? Just spending the day alone together,” Y/N says. Her and Fred are walking around muggle London, their hands intertwined and softly swinging back and forth between them. They’ve just left Y/N’s favorite muggle café after having lunch, and she suggested that they take a walk before heading back to their flat.

“It is, love. I’ve missed this. Just us, being us,” Fred muses, bringing their hands up so he can press a kiss to the back of Y/N’s hand. “Although I can assure you I don’t miss my weekly lecture about my hair.” They both laugh as Fred shakes his head, tousling his long locks.

They walk in silence for a few moments, just enjoying being with the other. Y/N almost feels bad that she’s using this opportunity to trick Fred, but as they approach their final destination, those feelings start to get replaced with excitement. They’re standing at a corner, waiting for their turn to cross when Y/N turns to look at Fred.

“I feel like you haven’t kissed me enough today,” she says, her lips turning into a pout.

Fred laughs and immediately leans down to kiss her softy. “I’m sorry, love. Let me fix that.” He kisses her again, lingering for a moment.

When he pulls away Y/N smiles at him and decides it’s time to enact her plan. She lets her gaze move from Fred’s face to something just behind him. “Oh, look!” she says excitedly, directing his attention to the storefront behind him.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no,” Fred says when he turns around to see what Y/N is pointing to.

They’re standing just in front of a muggle animal shelter. Fred looks down at Y/N’s excited face, frowning. “I said I think about it, Y/N. And I’m still thinking.”

Y/N gives Fred her best innocent look. “I know, I know. But there’s no harm in just looking, right?” She grins up at Fred as she starts to drag him towards the entrance.

-

They’ve only been in the kitten enclosure for a minute when Y/N can start to feel the familiar tingle she gets behind her nose whenever she’s around a cat. But she knows that seeing a kitten will break Fred down and she can’t give up now that her dream is about to be realized. She scrunches up her nose to get rid of the feeling and makes a beeline towards the only black kitten in the room.

“Aw Freddie. Come look at how cute this one is,” Y/N coos as she gently scoops the kitten up. It’s just a bit bigger than the size of her palm and is blinking up at her with large yellow eyes. She resists the urge to nuzzle into its’ soft fur, knowing that it will put her over the edge.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cute,” he mumbles as he comes up behind Y/N, trying to seem disinterested. He reaches a finger out and slowly strokes the kittens head. Any faux toughness he had dissolves as the kitten starts to purr. “I thought we were just supposed to be looking,” he teases lightly.

Y/N smiles up at Fred. She can see the happiness in his eyes and knows that they’re going to be leaving there with a kitten. “We are looking. We’re just looking with our hands,” she responds playfully. Y/N is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to sneeze and she holds the kitten out to Fred, needing to get away from it as quick as possible. “Here love, hold him.”

Fred takes the kitten from Y/N, eyeing her warily. “Are you alright, love?”

Y/N’s face has screwed up and she is desperately trying to blink away the sneeze she feels building. She tries to nod, thinking of some excuse for her weird behavior when she can no longer hold it in. “Achoo!” Y/N sneezes loudly, scaring the tiny kitten in Fred’s hands.

She hopes to play it off as some dust in her nose, but once she’s started she can’t stop. She sneezes a few times in succession, her eyes starting to water from the force. Unable to contain it anymore, Y/N tiptoes around the kittens that are crawling along the floor, heading towards the exit.

Fred meets her outside of the kitten enclosure a few moments later and she waves away his look of concern. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“What the hell was that in there?” he asks, coming up and wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Thought you were gonna sneeze your brain out or something,” he chuckles.

“No that was just an. Um. Allergy attack,” she admits sheepishly, burying her face in his chest.

Fred starts to rub her back. “An allergy attack?” he asks, his confusion evident in his voice. “You’re allergic to cats?”

Y/N nods sadly, pulling her face out of Fred’s chest so she can look up at him. “Yeah, unfortunately. Mum is too.”

“Then why in the hell do you want a cat?” Fred asks with a laugh, completely confused by Y/N.

“I don’t know, I’ve just always wanted one. They seem pretty cool,” she explains with a shrug. Y/N leans up to press a kiss to Fred’s cheek and then untangles from his embrace. “Come on let’s go, I wanna see if we can adopt that little black kitten. He was so sweet!”

Fred grabs Y/N’s wrist to stop her. “Um, what are you doing? Did you forget what happened back there?” Fred pauses when Y/N pouts at him. “Love I know you want a cat but I can’t let you suffer like that everyday just so you can have one,” he says softly, pulling her back into his chest. He cups her cheek and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“But, kitten,” she says softly, looking up at him.

Fred smiles down at her and kisses her again. “I know, love. If there was some way for us to get a cat and it didn’t set off your allergies we would. But until that happens we aren’t going to get a cat.”

“Fred, have you ever heard of something called allergy medication?”

-

One hour, a trip to a muggle pharmacy and a pet store later, Y/N is lying in bed with their brand-new kitten sleeping softly on her chest.

“You’re a crazy cat lady, you know that?” Fred says with a laugh as he lays down next to Y/N.

She smiles up at him and tilts her head back to ask for a kiss. After Fred presses their lips together softly she looks back down at their kitten. “Yeah, but I’m your crazy cat lady.”

[thekingdomofelfhame]

Jurdan Fanfic: Highschool AU Part 1

Summary: Much to Jude's annoyance and surprise, she and Cardan have been paired for a school project. Cardan's feelings, on the other hand, continue to blossom when he arrives at Jude's apartment only to witness something beyond his comprehension.

Warnings: Mild cursing

This will be an alternative between Cardan and Jude POV just to get a good look at how their feelings develop.

Cardan POV:

She keeps staring at the ring enclosing her finger, her gaze never shifting to the notes scattered on her dressing, her walnut eyes intense with emotion. She kept humming the same tune over and over, her voice as smooth and soft as butter as she traced invisible patterns on her ruby studded ring, its bright red colour magnifying the beauty of her hand.

I had never seen her like this: bursting with emotions. Standing before me was the same girl who lived in impenetrable walls, walls that I had been trying to overcome only to lead us down a path of hatred. She was the girl of steel, no titanium, and yet she melted away like snow in early spring when no one was around.

Her voice echoes in the room which-surprise, surprise- is a mess of pillows and papers. This girl had been haunting my dreams since sophomore year but my foolish imaginations were nothing compared to the beauty that stood before me and when she starts vocalizing, I swear my heart skips a beat.

As she turns to pick up her phone, her eyes find mine and I am robbed of the melodious voice that had filled this room a few seconds ago. I am pretty sure I see her eyes swimming in tears but she immediately blinks them away. She has trained herself well.

I hadn't even realized she was in her bathrobe until she stopped singing and am left with her perfectly masked yet startled cuteness when she becomes aware of her current state.

"Why'd you stop?" I say clearly disappointed, "your voice is beautiful"

"Weren't you supposed to be here at 11 30?", she says completely ignoring what I just said, tightening her robe around her.

"I clearly said I'd be at your place by 11", my eyes skim over her robe and am pleased to see her cheeks flush with colour as I say, "maybe I'll make a habit of coming early"

"How'd you even get in?"

"Your roommate let me in and, oh, she told me to inform you that she will be staying with her boyfriend for a while"

"Wow. She and Van are really speeding things up", there a short pause that feels like eternity before she says, "Okay, now could you go wait in the lounge while I get ready?", she says and something tells me she is not asking. Though I would very much prefer to stay, I obey her orders for she is The Queen of my heart.

Jude POV:

I walk out of the room, no longer dripping, and am utterly surprised to find Cardan lounging on the white sofa, one of his legs draped over the arm rest. He looks...comfy.

I think about the way he was looking at me in awe when I found him leaning against my door, his dark black eyes peering into mine. I had never seen him so captivated. How long had he been standing there?

Your voice is beautiful...

His words ring in my ears and I can't help the faint pink rising on my neck. Cardan Greenbriar had complimented me; that was a first. I was surprised he didn't make fun of me just like he has been since the day I set foot into school. He didn't mock me as he usually would, seeing my emotional outburst. This was Cardan Greenbriar, the most spoiled rich kid who never gave a fuck about anyone.

I had never once let anyone past my defenses, not even my family, foster or not. No one knew about this small world of mine and I liked to keep it that way. That is, until today when I saw a pair of iridescent coal black eyes bewitching me into wanting to tell him everything about this tiny world I had created where I would doze off to whenever I wished. That was when reality hit me and I was reminded of why I had lived in an armour for so long, why I had never let anyone get close to me.

I snap out of my thoughts when Cardan interrupts, "Like what you see, huh?". I scoff and I didn't realize I had been staring at him as he further added, "Should we get on with the project or are you gonna stand there all day, thinking about me?"

"Asshole. You wish", I snap right back at him and he lets out a soft laugh as I go through his notes.

We had agreed on double-checking each other's notes before we started the project, and by the looks of it, we had a lot of work to do. Surprisingly, Cardan's notes were not only correct and authentic, they were thorough and much more organized than mine. He had even used fancy words like serendipity- I mean what does that even mean?

"Jude, I think some of your notes are missing", he says raising his black brows and a book with torn pages.

"Oh, yeah. The torn notes are in a green file right over there", I gesture to the stack of books behind him as he leans over to find it only to frustrate me further when he says, "Uh, Jude. There is no file here".

"It should be there. It cannot go anywhere", I stand up and walk towards the mountain of books.

That was when I realized my foot is asleep and I stumble over a book, covering my face with my hands, ready for impact. Only I don't hit the ground; instead I feel arms slide around my waist and when I remove my hands from my face, the first thing I see are Cardan's eyes partially covered by his black locks.

I almost get lost in the moment. The world stops when he runs his hand through his hair as if he is nervous and he stares back at me. That is, until I remember who he is.

Ughhh....

"Looks like you're falling for me, Jude", he teases.

I abruptly push him off of me and start looking for the notes. Despite my foot still being asleep, I try to walk as if nothing happened but the bastard still notices.

"Here. Let me help you", he reaches for my hand but I stop him with a gesture and he does.

Looks like my defiance all these years really did have an effect on him.

"If you want to help, start by looking for a green file. It is unlabeled, no fancy decorations what so ever"

"What else to expect from the boring Jude Duarte"

"Well, at least I am not like one of those stupid girls who are so easily charmed by you"

"Did you just say I am charming?"

"Fuck off"

"Okay, okay", he raises his arms in defeat and I go to my room to look for the file. My eyes shift to the scattered notes over my bed and my dressing and my carpet.

Shit.

This is going to take longer than I thought.

Cardan POV

As I search through her notes, my thoughts keep drifting to the moment I had her in my arms, her body fitting right into my hands. I battled with the urge to get lost in her deep brown eyes or to drop a kiss on her cute nose.

No, no, no. Stop.

Wine. I needed wine. I needed wine right now.

Jude hated me and I should hate her. She was the one person who had refused to let me get my way and would continue to do so. She could never want someone like me, let alone love. This was just a project and as soon as it would finish, we would go our separate ways.

And yet, I cannot help but think about her all the time.

Jude POV

I return to the lounge drenched in sweat, panting and gasping for air. I had been rummaging in my room for the past hour and had finally found that file.

I slam the file onto Cardan's face and he doesn't dare reply when he sees my tired state. I sink into the sofa, one hand covering my eyes the other blindly searching for the glass of water on the front table.

"What happened to you?", Cardan asks as I open my eyes to find him completely shocked but instead of answering him, I gesture towards the file while gulping down my third glass of water.

"Let's continue. I don't want to waste any more time", my voice is dry as I open my laptop to start typing in the outline and he continues to examine my notes.

"God, your handwriting is horrible", his voice is filled with surprise as he brings one of the papers closer to those haunting, dazzling eyes to get a better look but gives in and throws it back onto the table.

"If you can't read it, why don't you make me something to eat instead?", I say robotically while looking at my screen and had not expected him to actually go to the kitchen in search for food.

My eyebrows furrow together as I walk up to him and say, "I was joking! Come on, we gotta get this done"

"I know you were joking and I know we have to this done but I am hungry and if you are not going to ask me then I am going to make myself", he complains as he looks around, opening cabinets and drawers.

"I didn't know you could cook", I say clearly perplexed by his actions.

"There are many things you do not know about me, Duarte", he continues his search and when I have had enough of his noise I say, "Stop! Okay, stop making noise! God, it's like raising a child or something", I grab the spatula from his hands but he takes it back saying, "Well, I am hungry and I can't work when I am hungry and by looking at you, you should be too"

As much as I would hate to admit it, I was hungry and I felt like I hadn't eaten in ages.

"Fine, you cook and I am going to take a break and watch some Netflix", I say right before telling him about where I keep the food and where the utensils are.

"One more question. Should I make sandwiches or hotdogs?"

"Lilliver usually does the cooking so, whatever you want", I turn on the television and continue to watch Shadow and Bone, each episode more intriguing than the last.

I hadn't realized an hour had passed when Cardan came with sandwiches.

The room is suddenly filled with the smell of freshly made sandwiches and that does nothing to satiate my hunger as I reach out for the dish set in front of me but Cardan quickly grabs the dish before I can get my hands on a sandwich.

"Patience is a virtue, dear Jude", Cardan says raising a long slender finger in the air.

"First of all, never and I mean NEVER call me dear", I glare at him as I grab the dish back, careful not to break it, "And you took so long making sandwiches that I got hungry"

I take a bite of the sandwich and if I am being honest, I had never tasted such sandwiches in my life and Cardan must have noticed me and my increasing craving for his delicious sandwiches that only seemed to make my hunger more insatiable when he said, "Either you like them", he gestured towards the half-bitten sandwich and its cheese dripping from the side of my mouth, "or you haven't eaten all day"

"Hmm. Yeah, I think it is the latter", I lie through my teeth with ease as I take a second one into my mouth.

I would never compliment him to his face, especially since I don't want him spreading the story in school.

"Why are you acting like this?", I ask out of nowhere before I can even process what I just said out loud.

"Like what?", he asks dumfounded

"I don't know, you seem a bit more... tolerable, I guess", my voice almost drops to a whisper as I stare at my third sandwich, suddenly looking for something more interesting in a piece of food that would soon be in my mouth.

He doesn't answer but I am able to see his mood shift as his body language completely changes and his muscles become more stiff. His pupils become dilated and he looks every bit as horrifying as he did when he once threw dust into my food after I had punched him.

All of a sudden, I regret what I had said and cursed my stupid mouth for opening itself.

We don't speak to each other for the rest of the night and though I hated Cardan with all that I had, one small part of me felt that there was more to this person, that he was more than just a bully and that I had missed an opportunity to get to know the real him.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! Also, I will now on follow a policy of following back those who follow me, just to spread a bit of kindness!!

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[miracleonice87]

4 // Coney Island for our boy Tyler

from the evermore prompt list

“The question pounds my head, What's a lifetime of achievement / If I pushed you to the edge?” - coney island

He couldn’t possibly be doing this.

As you and your three children, five and under, stood waiting in the hallway, you found yourself glancing at the clock hung on the wall every thirty seconds or so. With each minute that passed, the sinking within you opened up wider, threatening to swallow you whole.

Tyler should’ve been home by now. The game ended an hour and a half ago, and you and the kids had left the arena with a couple minutes left to ensure you’d make it home in time to pull off the surprise. The kids had burst through the door to grab the cards they had made earlier in the week, and you headed to the freezer to retrieve the cake you’d arranged to have sent all the way from Tyler’s favorite bakery in Brampton.

You sighed as you heard the kids excitedly buzzing around the first floor, wishing that you could feel even an inkling of the giddiness they had ahead of their father’s arrival. Things between you and Tyler had been strained for many months, and you had to battle your own bitterness to even acknowledge his birthday at all. You told yourself you were doing this for your kids. For the kids — not for him.

But as the clock neared 11 with no sign of Tyler, anxiety hummed within you. He had bailed countless times in the last few months — hell, in the last few years, if you were being honest with yourself. But today was his 35th birthday. The kids had been at school and daycare all day and hadn’t yet been able to give him the traditional birthday hugs and kisses that had become customary in your family since your oldest was born. He knew you were here waiting, the kids now long past their typical bedtimes.

There was just no way he could possibly do this.

Just as you were about to suggest that the kids head upstairs and put their pajamas on while they waited, your phone buzzed in your back pocket, the blood draining from your face as the hope drained from your heart.

The kids were still giggling and bouncing around, entertaining each other, blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing inside you. You took the opportunity to silently slip through the French doors into Tyler’s office to take the phone call.

Of course, it was him. You wondered what excuse he would carelessly toss your way this time around.

“Hello?” you answered, keeping your voice low.

In the background, you heard a commotion, jovial voices sounding like those of his teammates.

“Hey,” Tyler said dryly. “I, uh, I just wanted to let you know that some of the guys and I decided to hop a flight to Vegas tonight instead of going with the team tomorrow. So I won’t be coming home.”

You leaned against his desk and laughed humorlessly, switching your phone to the other ear.

“That’s great,” you breathed. “That’s just fucking... that’s fantastic, Tyler. Thank you for telling me now.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, this is why I don’t tell you shit,” he threw back. “I’m always the bad guy.”

Red hot rage boiled in your throat as you growled through gritted teeth, “Your children are waiting for you, Tyler.”

You heard him sigh, seeming to weigh what to say next. When he said nothing, you pushed. “What am I supposed to tell them? Huh? What would you like me to tell our kids, who have been waiting all day to see you and hug you and kiss you and eat birthday cake with you? Should I just tell them Daddy decided he’d rather go drink and gamble and party with his friends than come home to us?”

“No!” Tyler spat. “That’s not true. I—“

“Oh, it’s not?” you asked, your voice inadvertently rising. “Then tell me, Tyler, why the fuck are you doing it?”

You heard him draw a breath, expecting an immediate rebuttal, but instead you heard only his teammates calling for him.

“I have to go,” Tyler said, his voice raspy. “Tell the kids I love them and I’ll be home after the game tomorrow night.”

“You’re joking,” you huffed. “You’re really going to do this?”

As you spoke, tears brimmed in your eyes and you gazed across the dim room at your framed wedding photo that sat on the bookshelf. The two people in the picture looked like strangers to you now. You doubted you would ever know them again.

“I gotta go,” Tyler repeated in monotone. With that, he hung up.

Anger surged through you, and you allowed a few broken sobs to pass through your lips before shoving your phone in your pocket and swiping beneath your eyes to dry your tears. With a deep breath, you forced a smile and walked back into the hall.

“Mommy, where is Daddy?” your three-and-a-half year old daughter asked. You scooped her up and kissed her smooth cheek, devastated that Tyler could choose anything over these moments with your kids.

“You know what, Uncle Jamie asked Daddy to come with him early to Las Vegas to, um, to get in lots of good practice before they play the Golden Knights tomorrow night,” you told her as you smoothed your five-year-old son’s hair, the disappointment visible on the faces of these eldest two. “But, you know what? He told us to go ahead and have a slice of birthday cake before we go to bed. How does that sound?”

At that, they all cheered, even your newly two-year-old little boy, who clapped excitedly beside his brother, bringing a sad smile to your face.

“Can we still sing Happy Birfday?” your daughter asked, twirling your hair around her little hand affectionately and shattering you further.

You weren’t sure how much heartbreak you could handle at this point. You kissed the tip of her nose and nodded.

“Sure, baby,” you obliged, sniffling. “We can if you want to.”

_____

To some, it was sure to seem sudden.

To you, it seemed like it had been a long time coming.

When you heard the door slam and the dogs start barking, you knew the time for a reckoning had finally come.

“Hello?” Tyler called into the house, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. You didn’t bother to provide a reply.

Eventually, after you heard him drop his bags and greet the dogs, he climbed the stairs, and you hated the way your heart rate sped up automatically. He called your name, but again, you gave no response. He eventually found you in the bedroom, alone and silent.

“What are you doing?” Tyler asked, eyes scanning the suitcases lining the wall. “Where are the kids?”

You sighed, sitting back on your haunches and pausing folding your clothes.

“I’m packing, Tyler,” you answered, unable to look him in the eye. “The kids are in Fort Worth with my parents.”

“What do you mean, packing?” Tyler asked, brow furrowed as he took quick steps toward you. “Packing for what?”

You leaned back on your palms, rolling your head to try to ease the ever present tension in your neck, preparing for battle before slowly standing to your feet. You crossed your arms across your chest and found his startled gaze.

“Packing to leave, Tyler,” you answered, faking confidence. “Last night was the final nail in the coffin for me. I cannot, and will not, continue to do this to my children. To myself. I just, I won’t.”

Tyler’s eyes were wild as he came closer, grabbing your upper arms desperately.

“Baby, please, I don’t—“ he began, stuttering. “How can I fix this? How can I keep you here?”

You pried his fingers from your biceps and shot him an infuriated look.

“You know what would have been a good start?” you fumed. “Coming home to see your children on your birthday. Spending the night with your family instead of hopping a flight to Vegas. But Tyler, honestly, this has been over long before last night. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

As you moved past him to gather a bundle of your shoes from the closet, Tyler was hot on your heels.

“Listen,” Tyler said pleadingly, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. “I know things haven’t been good lately. But please, just... just don’t do this. Don’t do this to me.”

You spun around in a blur, the ice in your gaze freezing Tyler in place.

“Do this to you?” you scoffed. “What about our children, Tyler? What about me? Huh? Do you think I actually want to leave the father of my kids? Of course I fucking don’t. Never in a million years could I have thought that this would happen. But here we are. Living separate lives. It’s about fucking time I just make it official.”

Tyler was nearly panting now and he heard his heartbeat within his own ears, spinning his wheels as he wrestled with what to do, what to say, next. You pushed past him with a newfound sense of urgency to finish packing as quickly as possible and get the fuck out.

Finally, Tyler found his voice again, though it was choppy with subdued sobs.

“But what does all of it matter if you’re not here?” he found himself asking as he watched you zip the bags. You shook your head from where you knelt on the floor.

“Maybe you should’ve asked yourself that earlier, Ty,” you suggested angrily, glancing at him in fury.

With that, Tyler sunk to the bench at the end of the bed, beginning to hyperventilate as he watched you stack the kids’ bags on top of your own. He held his head in his hands and begged, “No, no, please, don’t go, please, please forgive me,” as you readied the last of the belongings you were taking with you.

You started to feel your resolve wearing thin, tears threatening to spill and weaken the brave face you were pulling. You forced yourself to cross the room, pull off your rings, and place them on top of Tyler’s dresser. He watched on helplessly, and as you leaned back against the familiar piece of furniture, you finally summoned the courage to say the words you’d been preparing in your heart for months now.

“I fell for this illusion of this life I’d get to live with you, Ty,” you began. “This life filled with this passionate love we found when we were so young, and evolving into this everlasting commitment to growing a family together, not to mention never having to worry about earning a living, and getting to watch you do what you love night in and night out, with our kids. But somewhere along the line, that illusion finally faded for me. You coaxed me into this life and then you left me here.” As you spoke, tears fell from Tyler’s brown eyes, filled with sorrow and regret. It used to wreck you when he cried. Now it just made you angry. You pressed on.

“I go to bed at night and you’re not here, and I wake up and you’re not here, and even when you’re here, you’re not here. I don’t even think you wanna be. Our kids don’t even think you wanna be.”

Your voice wavered as you delivered those words, and Tyler hung his head.

“You used to be the one place I wanted to be, Tyler,” you continued. “And for a year now, I’ve broken my soul in two looking for you. But I can’t find you. I can’t find the person you used to be. You leave me hanging every single day. Despite the times I’ve begged you over and over again to come back to us. I won’t let you continue to disappoint our family like this.”

You wiped your tears away with the backs of your thumbs and pushed off the dresser, approaching the suitcases and preparing to begin the hardest task you’d ever had to attempt — living a life without Tyler.

“I’m sorry,” he cried in despair, sniffling as he watched you approach the doorway.

“I’ll always love you, Tyler,” you offered softly. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

As he watched you walk out on him, Tyler questioned everything he thought he knew about the life he was leading. What’s a lifetime’s worth of accolades, awards, and achievements if he pushed the ones he loved to the edge?