#People who have obviously different type of smiles fuck me over each and every time because i can see when they are being genuine and

[mrfoox]

I am not a fan of how smug Oliver becomes anytime I mention Fabian now and it's so obvious please my dude

[redstarwriting]

the clash | iii. black planet

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.5k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, needles mentioned, slight injury from said needle

a/n: is this one long? yes. do i care? no because it was fun to write. it was 3 am when i finished this and make this a draft, so you know i had fun with this chapter. also, i’m about to go into work, so i will probably not be here but i wanted to post it beforehand so i can just worry about working on chapter iv later. and just wanna say i’m grateful to everyone who is reading and interacting with the posts! this has been such a warm welcome back into writing for the marvel universe and i appreciate each and every one of you :)🖤 also i have a question, feel free to answer in the comments or pm me, do i go all the way in the angst for this, or only some angst?

now reading: iii. black planet

previous chapter: ii. time bomb

next chapter: iv. london calling

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You open a portal to your world, and dramatically motion everyone inside. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr step into it, and you glance at Hobie. “Are you actually coming, then?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says sarcastically, stepping into the portal. You enter last, walking until you’re in the familiar darkness of your apartment. “Welcome to my home,” you say, going to your kitchen to get a glass of water. As you’re pouring, you hear one of your guests speak up. “Is that… a real skull…?” Pavitr asks, pointing to a human skull above your fireplace mantle. “Sure is. She’s my aunt,” you say, taking a sip of water. They all look at you with a look that reads ‘is it… that aunt?’

You nod.

It isn’t brought up again.

Hobie sees a vinyl player and immediately walks over to it. He observes the multiple albums and singles and then comes across vinyls that don’t look like they belong to any band in particular. “You press your own vinyl?”

“Obviously. There’s just something better about vinyl than listening to it on my phone, so I press my own playlists,” you say, and Hobie glances up at you. “It sounds more real. Scratches and all, makes it feel authentic,” he says, placing a record on your player and placing the needle on it surprisingly gently. You raise your eyebrow at him. ‘Of course he would get the record thing,’ you think to yourself, ‘he is a guitarist after all.’

“I totally agree,” Gwen says, and you nod. Musician things. Ambient sounds accompanied by faint guitar riffs fill the room. You nod in approval. This is one of your favorite songs. Gwen smiles. “Your place is so fucking cool, (Y/n),” she says, walking over to the crystal ball and various tarot decks you have set up on your kitchen table. “Thanks, I take pride in it,” you say and Hobie makes a noise. “Could be better. Tell me, do you consider any color? Ever? Like what the fuck kind of plants are these that they’re all black?”

“They’re called Raven ZZ plants, and actually, they’re a bright green when new leaves sprout, but no. Color is not for me. The only reason I have the tiniest bit of pastel pink on my spider suit is because I need to continue to throw people off my scent.”

“How d’you reckon a tiny splash a’ color will do that?”

“There are various different types of goth. If I only used my own style, it would make the likelihood of me being me much higher than I would like,” you explain, and Miles looks around. “So… this place haunted?” he asks and you grin. “Yes.”

“Ghosts aren’t fuckin’ real.” Hobie scoffs, and he has to bite back a laugh at how quickly you turn your head to him. He actually does believe in ghosts, just a tiny bit, but doing anything to piss you off has become his new motto. Even if he has to lie.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make one of them possess you,” you say icily, and a cold breeze rolls through the room and blows out some of the candles. Pavitr shrieks and jumps into Miles’ arms. Gwen mutters something about that being ‘so cool.’ Hobie looks virtually unimpressed and you two glare at each other until you all get an all too familiar feeling of danger. You all turn your head toward your balcony, and you see an explosion in the distance. “Fuck,” you mumble, jumping into action immediately. You pull your mask on, and jump without a second thought. It’s a new thing when you glance over and see Hobie right by you. “Was that a bomb? Who could that be?” Miles asks and you sigh. “Probably the Green Goblin,” you say, and Hobie opens his mouth to say another sarcastic remark but is cut off when he gets to observe what your swinging is like.

You literally move like the wind. It’s fluid and smooth in nature, and he pays special attention to how you barely make noise when you land on a building to run. It’s actually impressive, and it makes him lose whatever rude comment he thought of. It’s the complete opposite of how he is. Erratic and loud. He doesn’t know whether to respect it or make fun of you for it later. Probably the latter. “Hey (Y/n)? Is the sky normally this dark? I thought it was like 6pm,” Pavitr asks as you all swing and you nod. “The sun is only out for like 2-3 hours a day here,” you respond. “Damn a little sunlight never killed anybody,” Miles says, and you shrug. “Honestly, here it might.”

“Is that why you’re so moody and negative? Only light you get is from the moon?” Hobie asks and you roll your eyes. “Actually, I was born that way. My style of living has nothing to do with my moodiness and realistic outlook,” you shoot back, emphasizing the point of realistic and not negative. He just shakes his head.

You all arrive at the location the explosive went off, and you notice there are still people inside the parking garage that was hit. “We’re on it!” Gwen says, motioning for Pavitr and Miles to follow her. The three of them take off in an instant, and you keep your eyes peeled and ears open to hear the wings of the Green Goblin’s glider. Hobie hangs back, not saying anything for once in his life. Until he gets an uneasy feeling. “Something’s close.”

“I know, idiot, I have the sense too.”

“I was just sayi–”

He’s cut off by a tiny bag of… powder… being thrown between the two of you. You both leap out of the way immediately before it explodes. “Found you!” Hobie hears a maniacal laugh, “Ohhhh and you brought a friend!” The Green Goblin of your universe giggles, and he realizes that the glider she’s on is a giant taxidermy bat accessorized with mechanical elements making it able to fly again. “Not their friend,” he yells at the Goblin before addressing you, “What the actual fuck is ‘at?” Hobie yells and you sigh. “That’s the Green Goblin of my universe, she’s a fucking lunatic who wants to turn me into a taxidermy sculpture and sell me at an art auction.”

“She an Osborn?”

“Yes, Harriet Osborn,” you say, dodging another… bomb? Hobie honestly doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. “Well, I’ve killed one Osborn already, what’s another,” he says, and you make a gasping noise. “Oh no… don’t tell me…”

“We can’t kill Harriet!”

“Why the fuck not?! She’s tryna kill you!”

“Because of personal reasons! You’re not about to come into my world, and kill my villains, asshole!” you scream, and he groans. “Fuckin’ fine. Whatever, we take her down, we don’t kill her,” he says, and you nod. “I take her down. Like I have countless times before.”

“Uh uh uh, I’m here for a reason, we take her down.”

“Gods, fine. Whatever,” you huff and the both of you dodge another explosive. You point to Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr who are motioning to you that they got everyone out of the garage. Without speaking, the two of you develop a plan. You immediately web into the garage, going down to the bottom floor. Of course, your Goblin follows you, completely disregarding Hobie even being there. He follows behind. It’s dark in here, all the lighting has gone out inside and the black sky outside makes it difficult to see. You use the stealth he observed earlier to your advantage. Even he has trouble picking out where you are, and he has super senses. He makes his way to a pillar that supports the garage as quietly as he can, which, luckily, is quiet enough that he goes unnoticed. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he hears in a sing-songy voice.

He carefully picks up a rock and glances around the garage. He’s behind a pillar that will help bring the whole thing down, he just needs to deduce which of the other pillars will assist in that. Lucky for him, you’re there too. He hears a noise behind one of the pillars, and sure enough, an explosion soon follows. He quickly realizes where the other weak points are and throws a rock at one of the others. Boom. Explosion. And then one more. He glances to his left to see you right next to him. You both nod at each other, and he hits a power chord. You roll your eyes. “A little flashy, don’t you think,” you say as the two of you leap out of the way and there’s one more explosion. “Not flashy enough, love,” he responds as the garage starts to shake.

The two of you expertly navigate the falling rocks as you make your way out of the collapsing building. Right when you get out, your eyes widen, and you twist your body so the glider doesn’t impale you. You land on top, and the Goblin turns around. Half of her mask is broken and she’s bleeding from being hit by one of the rocks. You can tell the glider was hit, too, because it seems to be stalling every now and again. It does get you farther away from your spider-companions, but they start webbing after you. “Found you,” she says. “No shit, Harriet. It only took you demolishing ONE building to do it this time, feels like a new personal record for you,” you respond, and she throws a punch at you. You dodge, and then see her pull out an unnecessarily large taxidermy needle. “Ah, shit,” you mumble as she starts wielding it like a dagger. You’re able to dodge most of her attacks, but the last one grazes your side. You hiss and realize she put another attempt of a knockout serum on it as well. Great. She laughs.

“Stupid spider! I didn’t need to stab you; I just needed a little graze! See, I put a special kind of toxin on my needle, and now it–” She gets knocked out by a single punch to the face. “You talk way too damn much, girl,” you mumble, webbing her to the side of a building as she falls off her glider. Oh shit. The glider. You leap off, despite the pain in your side and the woozy feeling that’s starting to show up and web the glider. You then go water skiing without the water. Or the skiis. And on the road. Oops.

You do your best to control the glider, swerving between cars and making sure it doesn’t run into any of the skyscrapers in downtown Night of Yore City. That’s when you realize it’s about to run straight into a building. You narrow your eyes. It’s time to do your Spider thing. You yank back on the glider, causing it to stall. You leap up onto the side of a building, detaching three webs onto it and leaping to the other one. You repeat until a full spiderweb is formed, blocking the glider’s way to the building, and repeat so it’s underneath the glider as well. You quickly web up the giant claws of the taxidermy bat, ensuring they can’t cut through your webs, and wrap the glider up, swinging around it in a circle. You attach the end of the web to the big spider web you just made and watch it slow down even more. It goes into the web in front of the building, and slightly indents into it, but that’s the further it gets.

You crouch on a lamppost, watching to make sure nothing bad happens. When you’re positive everything’s fine, you stand. A few citizens yell some thanks you’s, more glare at you because you just ruined their day, and some just ignore you completely. You look up and see the four other Spider-People chilling on the side of a building. You quickly join them. “Never seen someone make a web that fast and efficiently,” Gwen says, motioning to the web you wove. You shrug. “Thank you.”

“Unfortunate a buildin’ had to come down in the process,” Hobie says, not giving you a break or any type of praise. You roll your eyes. “Let’s not forget you were part of the reason the building came down.”

“I could have done it without the destruction.”

“Like you would have.”

“I wouldn’t have, but I could have. Obviously, you couldn’t,” he says, and you flip him off as you all begin webbing back to your apartment. Once you get there, you assess the damage the needle did to you. Some weird green toxin was in the cut, and you sigh. “Wait, (Y/n), that looks kind of serious,” Gwen says, noting the discoloration of the toxin compared to your skin. You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. She keeps trying to make a knock-out serum to use on me. None of them are strong enough,” you affirm, the slight wooziness you had felt earlier is completely gone. Now you just need to wash and dress this, and it should be healed by morning. “Or maybe she’s just a shit chemist.”

“Thank you, Hobie, for your doubt that I’m a capable Spider-Person,” you say, and he nods at you. “Always.”

You get out your first aid kit and clean your wound up. It stings, and you wince, and the others know that feeling all too well. “Right, well now that we’ve seen this gloomy, depressin’, dark ass world, why don’t we go see an actual fun world, eh?” Hobie says, starting to press some buttons on his watch. “Go to your world? What so I can be blown away with too loud amps and catch on fire because some dumbass thinks they can make a flamethrower with some sort of cleaning spray and a lighter? No thanks,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes. “Not like I want you there anyways, love,” he says. You hate this new nickname he’s picked for you. It’s not endearing, it’s annoying. And he knows that it bothers you. You angrily put your first aid kit down and glare at him. “Fine. But hold on one second.”

You scale your wall and reach into an impossibly high cupboard, pulling out some cat food. Suddenly, the four spiders see two bright green eyes in the darkness of what appears to be your bedroom. You fill up a bowl, and your black cat saunters over to you. You pet his head, giving him a few scritches between the ears, his favorite spot. Hobie’s grateful you’re preoccupied with your cat because he does not need you to see the expression on his face. He loves cats. Especially black cats, they’re a perfect symbol of rebellion. Maybe he’ll come back here one day but only for your cat. ONLY.

“Alright, now that you’ve fed the cat, can we please leave? I can feel my soul bein’ sucked out of my body the longer I stand here,” Hobie says, impatiently, and you roll your eyes. “That’s the ghosts doing that, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

───────────────────────────────

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[larvaem1lk]

cookie stand

ellie williams x fem reader <3

🦋 hellooo, this is my first time publishing a fic to tumblr! i’m like really nervous and scared and !!!!!! i wrote this in mid march which was one of my first times writing for the lovely & beautiful ellie, so please forgive me if she’s kind of like. not characterized well. i hope there aren’t any errors & pls forgive my overuse of the words ‘pretty’ and ‘CDs’… i’ve been holding this one out for tooooo long so. please enjoy

🦋 warnings: none really :) there’s cursing and my… no so good writing though… overall this is just cute and ellie is like so nervous because why are u such an angelic being!?!?

other than that, please enjoy & thank u to anyone who reads!! :-* i hope u like it or at least someone out there does. feedback is so appreciated, promise my fics from here will be better <3

It was your scent that first consumed her mind full of wonder… the unfamiliar sweetness filling her nose and leaving her woozy. She didn’t know what it was, or who it was. She just assumed the pretty flowers were emitting nectar to attract insects that she just so smelled, too.

The sky was sunny; the weather was warm, and it was near the middle of spring. Obviously, the blooming flowers would make the most sense. Though she was wrong.

She wasn’t aware of the pretty girl a couple of feet away standing at the cookie stand. She didn’t notice the swarming bundles of children and parents that crowded the tiny baby pink stand, eager to try the sweets. In fact, she wasn’t paying attention to anything else around her.

No, Ellie was only here because Dina said there was supposed to be some guy selling CDs of Ellie’s favorite band that disbanded years ago. She could barely locate any of their music, so this was her only opportunity. Sure, she had the internet, and different media platforms, but that same Dina had bought a boombox for whatever reason and didn’t want it to collect dust. 

So here Ellie sat on a bench, sketchbook in her lap, while she drew random doodles of things around the park near her college—squirrels, butterflies, and dog poop. Or she would scribble random thoughts down, like, “Where are my CDs????” and “Why do dogs squat like that to shit.”

She looked up every few minutes for a sketchy man with a duffel bag, or whoever she thought would have potentially had the stash of CDs.

Yet out of all of the people that walked through, nobody matched the appearance. Maybe she missed them? Was it possible that a group of grannies carried CDs of a long-forgotten band? Or the young moms pushing strollers? She was giving up hope. She almost felt like she had just gotten played.

It wasn’t until she heard your lighthearted giggle in the distance that stopped Ellie from packing up. She looked at the entrance. Nobody. She looked to her right. There you were. A huge smile was on display and your eyes were a bit crinkled. You were squatting to talk with the… many children that surrounded you.

There was confusion at first, her eyebrows pinching inward as she watched you. Were you some type of… teacher? Caregiver? Wait, no. She didn’t even notice the baby pink stand behind you. It looked kind of cute. She squinted, and saw a pear-green sign that read, “HOMEMADE cookies!! $2.50 each… + random FREE CDs! :)”

Hold the fuck on. Random “FREE” CDs? This might just be where she finds the discography of her favorite band. But it was weird, a cookie stand selling random CDs? hell, she didn’t even care at this point. She’s been in need of some music to jam out to while she drew. Plus, she was interested in learning a few on the guitar just for herself.

Without a second thought, Ellie was stuffing her materials into her bag and throwing it over her shoulder as she stomped over to where your stand was. There was a bit of a line between children and parents. She was disappointed to be all the way in the back, but it would be worth it once she got what she was looking for.

Though it wasn’t a guarantee that you’d have what she wanted. She had been to so many music stores, even searching sketchy websites. Everyone told her the band never existed or we haven’t had them in our catalog for years, so how would you be any different? The small bit of hope was starting to fade again, but, she couldn’t say no to a cookie. Plus, you were pretty.

In the meantime, Ellie stood, waiting. She watched insects in the grass, watched people walking, but she was mostly watching you, from the way your eyes crinkle when you smiled too hard or how caring you were towards the children.

The spring sun was shining over your body, your skin glowing under the soft beams. You had such a pretty smile, and your lips looked so soft. They were shiny with gloss and Ellie wet her own with her tongue at the thought of feeling your lips on hers.

You stood behind the stand, talking and laughing with what seemed to be a guy with his younger sibling. You two seemed to be catching up, as the conversation went on for a good 5 minutes. Or maybe he was flirting. Hopefully not.

Ellie laughed when she heard a kid whine about how badly they had to pee and how long the cookie girl was taking, and Ellie silently agreed. The cookie girl was holding everyone up.

Ellie stood in line for a good 10 minutes before she was behind one more parent-kid duo towards the front. She had watched as kids walked away with large chocolate chip cookies while parents reminisced about CDs from their prime.

She watched as you talked to the child and practically made friends with their mom. But then she was next up as she saw the duo disappear.

This is it. Just do it.

With shaky legs, and a quiet exhale, she took a step closer to the stand, and damn, you were even prettier up close. Your eyes were so pretty under the sunlight and and your face was just—pretty. Ellie felt her mouth dry at the sight.

But why at that moment did a breeze have to blow by? That’s when the dangerous smell of sweetness filled her nose again, and she realized she had been mistaken before. Those weren’t flowers, it was you. You were the one with the dreamy aroma engulfing her in your essence. Now that she was closer to you, it was stronger than before.

Lost in your eyes, she didn’t catch the way your mouth moved in a greeting. And the way you smelled wasn’t helping either. Those same eyes filled with kindness were now glazed over with confusion, and it hit Ellie that you were waiting for her response. She blinked and glanced over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was behind her, sighing in relief when she saw no one.

You spoke up again, tilting your head with concern as your expression. “You okay?” You asked and fuck, your voice. It surprised her that she was still standing with how weak her knees felt.

Ellie cleared her throat and nodded, sniffling out of anxiousness but all that did was nearly slip her back into the clouds again. “Yeah, I’m good. I, Sorry, I just—totally blanked out there,”

She was relieved to see you smile in response. She hoped you didn’t think she was weird for staring at you like that, but how could she not when you looked like… you?

Your gaze lingered on Ellie’s face for a little while, taking in the sparkle of her green eyes and the freckles that decorated her cheeks. Under the brightness of the sun, there was a subtle sheen to her auburn-colored hair. You couldn’t lie. She was pretty. Really pretty. You noticed her drawing by a tree not too long ago when you came to set up your stand.

Ellie felt herself get a little warm at the way you were looking at her. Or maybe that was the weather. The forecast said 60, but it felt more like 80.

You looked down at the table and motioned toward two pink plates of large chocolate chip cookies. “How many would you like?” You clasped your hands together before placing them behind your back.

You were so sweet. So nice. The first thing she had done and couldn’t stop doing was stare at you, yet all you did was smile and ask her how many cookies she wanted. You were a dream.

Ellie’s eyes flickered down to the table in front of you to admire the cookies for a second. They were large, perfectly round, and she didn’t want to seem dumb for thinking this, but the chips seemed to be placed perfectly, too. Of course. With everything balanced, they almost looked damn near store-bought. “Are these really homemade?” She looked up with her eyebrows raised and you nodded.

“Yep! You know these were almost a failed batch, but I fixed them last minute. I was so pissed, but the people love ‘em, so I ain’t too mad about it.” You shrugged and Ellie smiled. She loved hearing you talk.

She pulled her lips to the side and fiddled with her fingers before speaking, “Well, I’d love to have one. How much are they?” You leaned forward to tap the pear green sign with your nail. Ellie instantly felt dumb as she read the large bubble letters, $2.50 each…

She mentally face palmed herself. “Oh… yeah, that’s right. Sorry. Again.” You laugh as she digs into her bag to bring out three crumpled sheets of green. “Can never keep track of coins,” her words were in a whisper as she handed you the dollar bills.

She watched your every movement, somehow finding everything you did fascinating. You were like some ethereal being that she’d come across, entrancing her with your mesmerizing aura. She had seen plenty of girls before, able to woo them with her charm and exude such a confidence with ease. But what was it with you?

You folded the dollar bills toward you before sliding them into your pocketbook that sat on top of a large bin beside you. Inside were rows of colorful CDs and Ellie’s eyes lingered there for a moment as she remembered what she was actually there for. Gotta stay on track.

You grabbed a pear-colored napkin from the pile that sat beside the cookies, and Ellie noticed the matching with the the sign. You handed it to her with the cookie inside, and when Ellie took a bite she almost passed out.

“Wait, whoa, holy shit…” her words muffled as she chewed. You couldn’t read her expression, but her brows pinched inward, and you weren’t sure if the taste surprised her or… if it was bad. Dammit, this batch. Maybe she had gotten a particularly bad cookie out of the hundred you hadn’t sold yet.

“Do you like it?” You squinted with a bit of hesitancy, feeling nervous. Her eyes shot up to you from the cookie immediately. “What do you mean? I love this. This is so fucking good! And you’re telling me these were almost a failed batch?”

You smile at her reaction. “Oh my gosh, thank you! I’m glad you like it. Do you want a CD?”

Ellie stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth and chewed a little before stuffing the napkin in her pocket. She swallowed hard before nodding. “Oh, uh, yeah. That’s actually what I was here for, but I don’t regret that cookie.”

Ellie felt her heart skip a beat when she heard you giggle. “Well, who are you looking for? I have pretty much everything… I think… I dunno. My gramma was just an insane diehard music fanatic, and I thought it’d be nice to let people have a little bit of that too. You know? But, now that I think about it these aren’t really ‘random’? All the artists are pretty well known and I sorted them into different genres so—what would you like?”

Ellie watched as you sighed afterwards, and she could tell you felt a little embarrassed because of your rambling. But she thought it was cute with the way you moved your hands and how you looked up to the left when you got sucked into your thoughts.

“Hm, let’s see if the cookie girl has what I’m looking for.” You smile at the name “cookie girl” and Ellie cringed once the name of the band came out of her mouth in fear that you would say the same thing everyone else did. And she was tired of searching.

But when your face lit up, she almost felt confused because she had never received that reaction before. She was more familiar with confused or sympathetic expressions.

“Are you serious? I definitely have them. I swear my grandma talked about them all the time before she passed.” You turned to the large bin and rummaged around. “You want their EP or—“

“Yes! Yes. Yeah. Gimme everything you got of ‘em. Please.”

You smiled before you were quick to search for what she wanted. Ellie studied your every movements in anticipation as your fingers walked over the tops of various CD cases. But once you stopped, she felt a sense of relief. Finally.

You pulled out CD after CD, almost dropping some when you turned to the table. You cautiously set them down and Ellie grabbed one to examine the cover.

“Oh man… holy fuck! This is really them…” she whispered while turning over the CD to look at the backside. She read the different titles of the band’s songs and looked over the faces of each member in the picture.

You take in how excited she is as she looks through the disks and stuffed each one into her bag. She looked cute. There was a sparkle in her eyes as you watched her look over the last one.

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for them? Literally, nobody had their stuff for shit.” She looks up at you to be met with your beautiful smile. She almost got lost in your eyes again, and as a breeze just so flowed by, your scent mesmerized her once more.

You say something that Ellie doesn’t catch, but you say something again as a question and she has to force herself to blink to come out of her daze.

“Sorry—uh, what’d you say?” she squints, feeling a little flustered.

You blow a laugh through your nose. “I was just saying that I hope you have fun with your CDs. I’m gonna be packing up soon, so are you sure that’s all you want?”

Ellie frowned a little. “Oh, yeah, I’m good. I got what I was looking for… thanks to you. Really, thank you.”

You smile that beautiful smile of yours and nod. You turn away to rummage around in a larger bag and Ellie watches as you do. She’s not sure if she should say bye or if she should just walk away. She found the CDs, finally, but she had also come across another find, you.

The more she talked to you, the more she wanted to get to know you. She wanted to see that gorgeous smile all the time and look into your pretty eyes whenever she wanted to. She wanted to play songs for you on her guitar while you baked more cookies and she wanted to draw pictures of you and things you liked. The two of you didn’t even have to jump right into romance. She just wanted to be your friend and be around you all the time.

“Hey, um… do you—you go to the college right?” Ellie didn’t even notice when the words spilled out of her mouth, but it was enough to make you stop and look at her. She absentmindedly clutched the strap of her bag as she waited for your reply.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered. Ellie nodded and just stood there, wanting more words to tumble out of her mouth but she was worried she’d fuck up and say the wrong thing. Which is why she slid her bag off her shoulder halfway to dig inside. She opened up her sketchbook and ripped a corner piece of paper out before rummaging around for some type of pencil.

You watched as she leaned over the table and scribbled something down in a rush that you couldn’t quite decipher. When she was done, she scanned over it and handed you the paper. Her face was a light pink as she did so and it confused you as you took the paper from her.

When you looked down, there were some words along with what you think was a number that read, “thanks for the cookie n CDs…. call me sometime? - ellie w.”

You smiled like a schoolgirl and went to say something to her, but she had already left. You looked around the park before you to spot the girl with auburn hair and green eyes with the freckles but unfortunately had spotted no one. Though at least now you knew what you would do as soon as you got to your dorm.

You would call Ellie.

[cato616]

NEGOTIATING OVER US (part three)

roman roy x fem reader

note: im glad actually at least a few people saw the other posts i was honestly expecting none at all, so yey thanks <3

summary: you're expecting to go back to see roman today; are you hoping to experience something like yesterday with him? or are you planning to have a normal "negotiation" (since of course you know you don't want to seel) day. Keeps you excited

content: some spicy spice and well as always degrading treatment from roman

You're pretty anxious about today, cleaning over every single table of the café every ten minutes and at the same time, taking orders, you really make those tables shine by the way; you're waiting until Liza arrives so she can start her shift and you can be gone already. cleaning, coffee, cleaning, coffee, cleaning... LIZA! she finally arrived and you dropped the rag when you were about to clean the counter for the third time, you really had to put your mind on something else because this types of meetings makes you impatient.

"hey Liza!" you waive at her. "You seem really happy to see me" she said to you with somewhat of a worried face. "yeah! i gotta be somewhere and i wa-" "you want me to cover the next few hours" Liza interrupted you finishing your sentence. "yes! you can't say no, i am your boss tho" you laugh with her. "where are you going this time?" she asks in a friendly way. "just having a date with-" "oh!" Liza adds mid sentence seeming amused, you continue. "... with the roy family" you say. "oh..." Liza's face changed to disappointment. "yeah... they're still trying to make me sell" you said to her while you start to put your coat on; since Liza is one of the few people that knows about the history of the café, when you said that, she felt a little blue about it. "so, are you... going to sell?" She asks you pitifully. "I don't want to sell Liza... im just, meeting them anyway... roman always came here, i am now going over there" Liza nods with her head smiling at you and then waiving goodbye when you start leaving.

You start walking over your grand meeting with roman roy, and just by knowing that, it makes impatient all over again, you can't think about it until you get to arrive there, so you put your headphones on and start listening to music to escape your mind a little bit.

You're a block away from the building, and my my, it looks even bigger than last time, you start having a lot of vertigo by just looking at it.

Here we are now entering hell. "good morning hey, im here to see roman roy?..." you had to ask the receptionist since you couldn't go up in an elevator without authorization. "uh... yes, you may go" she kindly directs you to the security guards who would let you go in with their key cards; very intimidating men, feels like they destroy animal plushies just for fun. you walked really fast into the elevators, those big guys had some scary faces too, who hired them? never mind, that makes sense.

You're in the elevator, breathing, in and out. You can't help but to feel nervous about these places; these people makes you drop huge gouts of sweat over your forehead, and under your armpits, that's why you needed to relax first. 'ding.' You arrived at your floor, it's time to shine.

Right after you set a foot outside the elevator, you look up, and you see roman waiting for the same one. You stared into each other's eyes at first and even for a millisecond you felt you wanted to say something different by just looking at him, but you immediately great him like an every day person. "hey roman, good to see you" you unintentionally stretch your hand to him, he obviously doesn't copy you and do the same thing instead looks down at it as he feels grossed out by the gesture, and starts laughing, of course. "oh yeah yeah mrs. princess come on in to the castle" he stretched your hand in an ironic way while making a silly voice. "don't greet me like that, I'm not the fucking president of the united states." You two start walking to his office and well, you looked very solemn by his attitude, but deep inside you did felt a bit embarrassed, you never actually did that when he would stop by your shop the other times. "(you sigh) always so delighted to see you roman" you sarcastically tell him. He opens the door for you to go in. "yeah don't worry darling, i know that you hate me and blah blah blah". You sit down on those sofas he had in his office, and after he said that you zone out and start to reflect about it, i don't think I've actually ever hated him, i said the words but never felt it.

You zone back in when he suddenly sits on another seat in front of you, there's a bit of silence, there's words that are trying to come out of your mouth but you're worried how much it would change the atmosphere in the room. "i've... never actually hated you... by the way." Roman seems astounded by your comment, he has a slight smirk on his face. "oh wow, really? you're the first one then" he then suddenly starts to make deep eye contact with you; you're the type that can't stand eye contact for even a second, so your eyes start to wonder somewhere else to avoid him; oh shit no, not down there, look up! look up, the window, perfect, stay still. Of course roman noticed your anxious look around the place, and those accidental wonder eyes you gave him. "what? what you looking at? a plane?". You're now tired of his teasing at this time of the day, and get to the point.

"i only came back here to tell you once more that i won't ever sell my coffee shop" you told him very confident, you felt good about yourself after saying it; he smiles at you as if he believes that you don't know what you're saying. "what?" as you start to feel on edge by his silence and his smirking, that unfortunately makes the insecurity come back to your body, damn you, roman you bully. "maybe for now let's say you don't wanna sell, sure" he's making you feel confused and irritated with his stupid superior complex. "i am not going to sell roman" you said to him very serious this time. "I've told you about it already" you remind him about your story. "oh yeah boo-hoo sad backstory-" You struggle to feel confident at times, but you don't let people like that in your life, he really does feel like he's better the anyone else. "I'm leaving, hope you have a good day you little shit" you rapidly get up from your sit almost about to leave the room. "okay waitwaitwait stop". roman didn't even felt like getting up but he did like saying wait very fast. "i don't know why i stopped, but of course that you roman tend to be fucking selfish, egocentric, and a bitch, but who knows why, i forgot about that" you yelled.

Quietness fills up the room; your face is hulk red and his is blue; he looks down, defeated. "pff, wow, i thought you said you didn't hate me" You couldn't believe that he felt sad about it, however, you were deeply fighting your inner self, started to feel a little regretful. "oh so apparently you're the victim, nice one" you sarcastically put your thumbs up to him. You paused, he didn't say anything. You didnt want to at the moment, but deep down you wanted him to feel remorse; you felt like you should be civilized about it. "just try to say sorry perhaps and we can then, continue our day"

He starts to get up very slowly from his seat, his eyes gradually starts to direct themselves from the floor to then your eyes, he's now very delicately getting closer to you. Your face meets his face, you stayed very still, not a word coming through your mouth. His eyes slightly start to shift, left to right, like if he's trying to decipher what your eyes are telling him. then he quietly says, "i am, sorry... i didn't say, anything about our meeting, last night". You froze.

Although you were pretty aroused by that meeting yesterday and actually wanted to have something like that happen again, the adrenaline; you weren't very good at confronting it. So now you felt it became harder to breath, while your heart was beating faster. "You want me to say something about it?" He wanted you to respond as of course you were at the moment, unavailable, your mind is currently out of thoughts. "um.. a-about, what?" you continue to not admit the events. "I'm not stupid- you fucking want me, don't you?"

continue

[mikuni14]

Laws of Attraction Ep 2

I bet, that in the dictionary next to the definition of the word "a little shit" there is a photo of Charn as an example 😀 And that an exasperated Tinn put it there 😆

LoA is an amazing series. A little girl died, there's a despair, there's a fucked up situation in the senator's family, there's the obviously twisted and traumatized kid, as is Charn... ...and in the same series I laugh watching Charn and Tinn like they’re in a romantic comedy????? Like??????

Jam and Film are great as actors. They play completely different characters than in To Sir, With Love, also in LoA they show a whole range of different emotions, and Film actually plays two characters: Charn before his "transformation" and the current Charn. I also want to point out something: many actors who play "psychopaths" choose to show this “type” through an unnerving and creepy smile. But it’s trcky and few succeed, and their characters are more funny instead of disturbing. Film is one of those whose smile IS unnerving. Why? Because Film has a whole set of smiles for every occasion (and lets not forget about his smiles before his "transformation"), so we as viewers know which of his smile is just a smile and which should set us on fire edge 😉 Film and Jam have great chemistry, they play perfectly together, watching them together on screen is pure pleasure. Good dialogue, genuinely funny scenes, and the attraction between the characters they play, visible from space, also help.

What I also like about Tinn and Charn, or maybe I’m wrong reading it that way, is that BOTH are clearly gay and BOTH know it from the beginning. By the time Charn "came out" as the senator's lawyer, the two were on their way to the relationship they BOTH wanted. Their MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING of who they are and what they feel comes up all the time (in conversations, in grandma's comments lol), because they both treat their orientation as obvious. I think.

(I died when Charn was giddy and excitedly waiting for his wounds to be tended to as if he had it in his mind that he was about to attend one of the most important BL tropes 🥳....when Tinn wanted to take him to the hospital, he was like, noooo, we were about to have a BL moment! If this continues like this, LoA will finish me off before it's over.)

Another fantastic thing: the show has great female characters. Rose immediately gave me a serious Miss. Fisher vibes, but otherwise any female character is just so cool.

The senator's son is acting crazy, but also... logical? Even in very serious psychological series, it’s very rare to see such an approach to a character like "the spoiled and abused son of someone rich and powerful." His monologue about what he feels and what he doesn't feel is something I certainly wouldn't expect from Thai BL. I wonder which way it will go. But since he's been allowed to have a scene like that, and he's been allowed to have a subordinate who is probably in love with him, or at least cares about him deeply, it seems to me hat the kid didn't actually kill the girl at all 🤔

I want to say straight away that I DON'T WANT Charn to go back to his good old self, I WANT him to stay as he is and for Tinn to be with him because he ACCEPT him as he is. In the same way, I don't want Tanthai to undergo some inner transformation and become "good". I just want of a drama where someone is fucked up and still accepted like Hannibal and Seo Moon Jo.

Laws of Attraction is awesome. I enjoy watching it, I have fun, I love the main characters, I laugh a lot watching it, I appreciate the serious scenes that shed more light on the mystery with each episode, but also complicate the story. This is it people. This is it!

[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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[oh-mother-of-darkness]

“Are you here all night?” Jason asked, “or are you planning to, you know, be a human? I think those go home sometimes.”

High above Jason’s head, a swarm of bats entered the cave, winding among the stalactites and screeching a kind of garbled response.

Dick, however, said nothing. He remained bent over one of the long tables on the cavern floor, examining a map Jason could barely see from his own seat a short distance behind, ignoring Jason and his sarcasm both. 

Jason didn’t enjoy being ignored. 

Fine. 

“I have some tasks you could take over,” he suggested, in his least helpful voice, “if you’re in the market for an excuse to keep working. I know you make those sometimes.”

Nothing.

“I have some weapons to clean, if you want to do that. You could type out all my old cases, if that works, because I only have the originals and those are hard to work with.”

Still nothing.

“Take out the trash?” Jason tried. “Wash the dishes? I put a load of laundry in a couple of hours ago, but there’s a wool jacket in the mix, so be careful what you put in the dryer.”

Dick didn’t move. Jason was enjoying himself now.

“Write a sonnet? Map the White House?” Jason held up a finger Dick couldn’t see, like he had just remembered something interesting. “I think there’s a library on 8th that exploded a few days back, so if you could just grab the rubble from the street and rebuild it by hand, that would be great.”

No reaction. 

“Whatever,” said Jason, “I’m out of here. Get some sleep maybe? I know the whole work-to-outrun-despair routine is your ‘thing,’ or whatever, but it never looks good on you. Have you considered—”

Jason cut himself off as Dick finally turned away from the table. Looking him in the eye, Jason felt suddenly and inexplicably afraid. 

“Go on,” said Dick, quietly.

“I’m just… saying that it might make things worse, to shut off and—” Jason pointed at the mound of paper on the table, “obsess over this stuff instead.”

“You think?” Dick asked. “No shit.”

Jason blinked. “Wait, are you—”

“Did you think it never occurred to me,” said Dick, “that I might be spinning out?”

“I didn’t say you were spinning out.”

“Were you thinking that maybe,” Dick leaned back against the table edge and crossed his arms, carefully casual in a way Jason didn’t like, “hey maybe I, Dick Grayson, haven’t noticed how it feels to be forty-nine hours into a case and puking in the bathroom sink?”

“I didn’t—”

“Maybe I just haven’t realized why my vision blurs out and I can’t think straight, and it’s weird how this happens—” Dick held up a hand, and Jason could see his fingers shaking, “—if I keep going for too long.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Wow, yeah, now that you mention it, this might be,” Dick said, flatly, “bad.” 

Jason glanced down at his boots to break the eye contact. “I’ll back off,” he said. “I’ll go.”

“It might be bad that I can’t sleep until I’m falling-over exhausted. Maybe I shouldn’t be taking all these cases—”

“I said I’ll back off.”

“Or writing all these notes or spending weeks on research, more than that on training—”

“Listen—”

“I probably shouldn’t be leading all these teams, huh?” Dick smiled in a way that reminded Jason of what he should have remembered before he opened his own mouth: that Dick could be very, very dangerous. “Can I get your opinion on that?”

“I’ll—”

“I KNOW!”

Jason stumbled back a step in shock. 

“I KNOW that I’m working too hard!” Dick yelled, “And I KNOW why I do it!”

“Okay!” Jason backed away again. “Okay, I get it!”

“I work so I don’t have to think! I’d rather drop dead doing this shit than stop for the millisecond it would take to feel again! Are you happy now?”

“Calm down, okay? I didn’t—”

“I don’t want to feel,” said Dick, gesturing around him, “so I’m going to stand right here over and over again.”

“Fine!”

“And I’m going to keep shutting down because it goddamn WORKS!”

Dick turned away again, bending over the table like he hadn’t said anything at all. Jason stood frozen for a moment, staring. 

“Does it?” he asked into the silence.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Do you have something better?”

Jason looked down at his own hands and saw that they were shaking too.

“No,” he said.

“Then fuck off.”

Jason turned to leave, but Dick, it appeared, wasn’t ready to let it go. 

“I’m alive,” he said. “I’m standing and walking and doing all the things that matter.”

“Yeah.” 

“I’ve had enough of— enough of asking for help and getting—” Dick jerked an arm above his head, still turned away. “I don’t want to hear that the way I live is self-destructive. I already know. That’s why I’m here, that’s what I’m saying, that’s why I’m trying.” 

“Yeah.”

“Just… show me something better, or let me self-destruct.”

Jason fumbled awkwardly for something to say. “I’m sure— I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but whoever that is— I’m sure they’re… trying to help.”

“You weren’t,” said Dick.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You were trying to land a cheap shot,” said Dick, “and feel like you’re better than me.”

Yes, that was true. Jason wasn’t sorry, exactly, but he regretted it, and those were different things.  

“I guess that makes me an asshole.”

“And a hypocrite.” Dick turned around again and leaned back in the same way, quiet, in control. “You never stop either… not since the pit anyway.”

“Don’t.”

“I mean it’s different, obviously, because I don’t think you’re trying to hide it. Me, I don’t want cracks to show. I don’t want all this grief and anger and— you said despair, right?”

“Stop.”

“I don’t want the despair to show because I want to look whole, but you—”

“You’ve made your point.”

“You want to look like a week-old corpse rotting on the concrete, and may I say?” Dick smiled. “Excellent performance. You look exactly like that.”

Jason didn’t say anything.

“It’s a world of difference,” Dick continued, “because I— I’m pushing through pain… and you’re pushing to feel it.”

For a moment, they stared at each other, and Jason found that it was difficult to breathe. 

“I could yell back for that,” he said. It came out softly, more soft than he meant, as Jason shoved away something very close to shame.

“Do it.”

“No. I think it’s funny when people call me the angry one.” Jason looked down at his shaking hands again. 

“I am angry,” he conceded, “but you’re just as bad as I am.”

“Thematic,” Dick snapped. “Get out.” 

“No. You opened this book, so we’re going to read it. You’re right.”

“Leave.”

“You’re right, I do exactly what you just said I do. Sometimes I don’t sleep for days, and it’s not because I can’t.”

Well, that might not be fully true, so Jason stopped to backtrack.

“I mean,” he corrected, “I don’t know if I could sleep, if I really tried, but that’s the point I’m making. I don’t try. I don’t want to sleep.”

“I said leave.”

“It’ll be four in the morning and I’m slumped sideways on my couch watching surveillance footage I don’t need to watch, because I know when I finally drag myself to the bathroom mirror, I’ll look like hell—”

“Get out!”

“—and I want to! I feel like hell, I feel like goddamn Brutus in the Devil’s jaws, and I want to look like it. If I look like death, that means my pain is real.”

“Get out or regret it.”

“Oh, I know it’s self-destructive,” said Jason, smiling his best unnerving smile. “How could I miss it when I’m blacking out in stairwells and picking fights on purpose, just to get kicked around?”

That particular sentence, it appeared, caught Dick’s attention, because he stayed quiet this time, glaring from across the room.

Well then, Jason decided, it was time to push further. 

“Let’s get personal, shall we? Why do I live in this fucking city to see you or him or whoever else is living in the capes this week? I’m not shooting for reconciliation!”

“Well?”

“I’m going to stay here and cause problems until every single one of you hates me enough to shove me away. How’s my performance, by the way? Is it working? I’d love to get your opinion.”

Dick made a face that Jason couldn’t interpret, so Jason chose to press on. 

“It’ll hurt when I pull that off because I do actually care about you, but you know what? I’ll like that. Maybe someday all of this will kill me, and I’ll kind of like that too.” 

Jason paused a beat to let Dick interject, but Dick didn’t. 

“Your turn,” said Jason pleasantly. “Thoughts?”

Nothing.

“I like the aesthetic of self-destruction,” said Jason. “I’m going to look in the mirror tomorrow and see dark circles and scars, and it’s going to feel like being myself in a way that nothing else does.”

In that moment, watching Dick glare, Jason felt very tired— not in a way that sleep could solve, and not in a way that anyone could fix. No matter what Jason did, no matter what he tried, he could always feel himself sinking. He was empty and heavy at the same time, somehow trapped in place, unable to do anything except lie in his own blood.

A rotting corpse indeed.

“I’m not judging you,” said Jason. “I don’t have the space for that. I won’t tell you to just… change. I’m sick of hearing that too, hearing that I don’t have to do this to myself, that I am doing this to myself.”

Dick nodded. Jason wasn’t sure at what, but it felt like permission to keep going, so he did.

“I know I’m holding on to something I shouldn’t,” Jason admitted, even though it hurt to say out loud. “I know, but I can’t let go when there’s nothing else to take. I don’t have anything profound to say. I don’t… know what else there is.”

That was it. That was all Jason had, so he shrugged and stared down at the floor, waiting.

“I think if I stop working I’ll fall apart,” said Dick, finally, “and this time I won’t be able to scrape myself together.”

“Yeah.”

“I think fine, so I don’t have to keep going. I don’t have to shove away the dark and force myself through, but what would happen if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know.”

“I would be a shivering, hollow shape on my floor, maybe forever. I don’t know what I want to be, but I can’t be… I can’t be only that.” 

Jason understood.

“It’s hard,” said Dick. “I always hear— and say, I say this to other people— that things can be okay. I guess it’s true, but does it matter?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Unless I leave the cave right now and never come back, this is my life. I have an apartment and a fucked-up family—”

“Thanks.”

“—and I spend every night jumping through smog and the ghosts of everything I’ve ever done.”

“Saving people,” Jason noted.

“Win some,” said Dick, “lose some. How many times have you watched a person die?”

“A few.”

“A few.” Dick shook his head. “I know too much, but I have too much to leave behind.”

“I have a guy who makes passports on demand, if you change your mind,” said Jason. “He’s amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Prints while you wait.”

Dick shot Jason a flat kind of look.

“What?” Jason asked. “It would simplify my plans.”

Dick half-smiled at that, and Jason got the sense that they were done yelling, maybe, for awhile.

“I feel trapped, and I don’t know how to fix myself,” said Dick, “while I’m still… here.” 

“Yeah.”

“I’m just trying to stay alive.”

“I know. Me too.”

“It isn’t getting any easier.” 

Jason thought about that for awhile. It would be nice to have an answer— something simple to say, some match to light in their common ground— but Jason couldn’t find one, so he shrugged again and hoped that understanding would be enough. 

It had to be something, didn’t it?

It was the best he could do. There were times, Jason figured, to talk about breathing exercises and the mess of self-help books piled on his dresser, but he knew this wasn’t one of them. They could call it catharsis, he decided, and leave it at that. 

“We could say it’s Bruce’s fault?” Jason suggested, since he was out of other ideas. “I like blaming Bruce for the shit I do.”

“You do?”

“Fuck off.”

Dick smiled fully at that one. “I’m not above it either.”

“Great,” said Jason. “Can I leave a note saying we blame him? No context at all, maybe on a single post-it? I think it would be really funny.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll bounce after that, for real this time.” Jason spun a finger in a circle a few times, pointing around the cave. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Yeah.” Dick tapped a finger against the table a few times, like he was thinking. After a moment, he pulled a bag from the edge and started packing up his things. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, me too.”

Fin.

---

art by @doc-squash​

[leossmoonn]

Second Chance

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff, lil angst

note / request - “hi! can we get a carl x reader during like season 10. they were together in the past and they broke up, but hang out everyday. but carl still likes her so he tries getting her back.” this is so trash lmao, but enjoy!

summary - you and carl dated a while back, but now are just friends. he spends the day with you, hoping to win you back

warnings - language, underage drinking, suggestive content but no real smut

————

*gif isnt mine* 

“Hey, C-Bear!” You called out.

“‘Sup, Y/n/n!” Carl smiled at you. You ran up the stairs of his porch and gave him a tight hug.

“How was Florida?” Carl asked once you pulled back.

“Hot as shit, but fun. How was Chicago?” You asked a giggle.

“Same old,” he shrugged.

You looked at your best friend and smiled. “So, what’re we gonna do today? It is the last day of summer.”

“I was thinking of just hanging out here. It’s too hot to do anything,” Carl shrugged.

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

You two walked into Carl’s house. You saw Franny on the couch with Debbie.

“Hey, Debs. Hi, Fran-Fran!” You squealed and went over to Franny.

“Y/n!” Franny exclaimed.

“How have you been, squirt?” You asked the little girl, picking her up in your arms.

“Good,” she smiled widely. “Good,” you smiled.

Carl looked at you while talking to Franny, absolutely mesmerized.

You and Carl had dated the previous summer. You two had a good run. You lasted for 6 months before Carl had met a girl named Anne at his job. You noticed him slipping away slowly everyday. It broke your heart and you knew that you had to end it. Carl obviously didn’t realize he was falling in love with someone else, so you sat him down and told him you were breaking up with him. It hurt like a bitch for you, but you knew it was for the best so you wouldn’t end up getting more hurt in the end. You handled it maturely, telling him that you two could still be friends no matter what. You two were friends way before you dated, anyways. 

Carl handled it differently, though. He was angry at you for accusing him for falling in love with another girl. He cursed at you, stormed out of your car, and didn’t talk to you for 2 weeks. You missed him, but you were kind of thankful he left you alone. 

In those 2 weeks, you were able to rediscover your self worth. You managed to convince yourself that Carl was just like every other guy at your age; stupid. You knew you were hot shit and if he didn’t want you, then that was his loss. 

Even though you said this to yourself everyday, the hurt feelings didn’t stop. It took you a good 2 months to stop thinking about Carl and Anne together, him possibly cheating on you while he was on the job. You finally got over all the anxious thoughts and were happier now. You’d never admit it, but you were still in love with Carl, and you knew that he was the one, but the one that got away. 

Those 2 weeks for Carl were absolute hell. He missed you so much and started to pull away from Anne. Pulling away from Anne made him realize that you were right. That he was slowly falling in love with another woman, but he also realized that he loved you more. He took those 2 weeks to straighten himself up. He did pep-talks with himself, had his brothers help him out in what to do. They gave him hell for letting you go. Even they knew you were the one for him and reminded him of it everyday.  

Carl called you up after those two weeks and you agreed to try and be friends. It was hard for the first month, for both of you. You two were quiet and awkward when you hung out. You wouldn’t even hug him goodbye when you left his house, much less a high-five. But, it gradually got easier. You two saw each other more and fell into a comfortable rhythm, which consisted of you ignoring your feelings of love for him, and Carl acknowledging his feelings for you, always thinking of ways to get you back, but none of them working out. 

Now it was a year later and you two were back to being best friends like you were before you started dating. You had pushed the feelings you had for Carl away so much, it was barely there anymore. It was the opposite for Carl, he was still so deeply in love with you. So now that it was the last day of summer, he had planned to spend the whole day with you, try and woo you and get you back. 

“Are you hungry?” Carl asked, grabbing back your attention. 

You nodded. “Starving.”

“I think we have some cookies we can bake, right Debs?” Carl asked his sister. 

“I think so. We also have decorating icing, too,” Debbie said. 

“Great! What kind of cookies do you guys have?” You asked, going over to the kitchen.  “Just chocolate chip, I think. Maybe sugar cookies?” Debbie said. 

You hummed and looked in their fridge and found two rolls of chocolate chip and sugar cookies. 

“Found ‘em!” You exclaimed excitedly. 

Carl went into the kitchen with you, smiling at the happy expression you had on your face.

“Help me put them on a tray?” You asked. 

Carl nodded and went next to you. He took the sugar cookie roll and broke it into pieces. Debbie walked over to the kitchen, taking a seat, wanting to catch up with you.

“So, why did you guys do in Florida?” Debbie asked. 

“Went swimming, went to Universal Studios. We went to a lot of nice restaurants. I met a few cute guys there, too,” you smiled. 

“Ooh, really?” Debbie smirked. “Any that stuck?”

“This one kid named Josh. We played volleyball on the beach for a while. He told me he liked my swim suit,” you smirked. 

“Did you two hook up,” Debbie asked.  

Carl tensed at her words. He hoped you would say no. You weren’t like someone to jump into things like that so fast. Sure, you had a few boyfriends before Carl, but he knew that you took time in getting to know him. Plus, your first time was with him. 

“Nah. I’m pretty sure he had a girlfriend. There was a girl on the beach that kept glaring at me and hanging onto his arm. I even saw them kiss a few times,” you snorted. 

“Wow, he sounds like an ass,” Debbie said. 

“Yep. That’s why I rejected his kind offer to fuck,” you laughed.

“Atta girl,” Debbie gave you a high-five. 

“Yeah, I didn’t really feel like becoming the talk of the town or whoever those people lived,” you chuckled. 

"It’s good you said no,” Carl chimed in. 

“Oh, yeah, why? Besides the obvious,” you raised a brow. 

“Because it’s not you to hook up randomly,” Carl said. 

“Are you implying I’m a prude,” you chuckled. 

“No, no. I just... you waited until we dated to fuck, I-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut Carl off. You moved to put the cookies in the oven. Carl couldn't see it, but you were very flustered.

Him mentioning your romantic past brought up memories. These memories were the ones you didn’t mind remembering. They just made your legs weak heart swell. 

Carl was right, you did wait until you two were dating to have sex. You wanted it to be special and even though you two were just friends at the time, before you two were dating, you knew that sex with him would be special. And to your delight, it was. He was gentle, sweet, loving. He payed attention to you the whole time. It was one of the things you knew would live in your memory forever. 

“You waited?” Debbie asked. “Yeah,” you stood back up and shrugged. 

“Wow, I wish I had your self control,” Debbie snorted.

“It wasn't about self control. It was just knowing who was right for me,” you said. Your gaze fell on Carl as you said those words. 

He had a small on his face, to which you returned. Your heart fluttered at the sight, which made you avert your gaze immediately. Even though you didn’t mind the memories, you did mind the feelings they and him brought. As much as you hated to admit it, a part of you was still attracted to him. 

That part of you was the one you constantly had to push away. You had to remind yourself what he did. How he fell in love with another girl. How he let go someone good, kind, so loving and supportive. You knew if you let that other part of you invade your mind and feelings, you would be in his bed making out with him and possibly getting hurt, which was something you didn’t want. 

“How long do these have to bake?” Carl asked. 

“Like 15-20 minutes,” you said. He nodded and put his tray in the oven. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Carl asked. 

“Sure,” you nodded. 

“I’m gonna go and meet Claudia. Watch Franny for me?” Debbie asked. 

“I’d love to!” You smiled. You loved Franny. She was such an easy and good kid to watch. She took care of herself, too, so all you had to do was make her food whenever she was hungry.

“Great, thank you. I’ll see you guys later!” Debbie smiled and left the house. 

“Franny, do you wanna watch a movie with us?” You asked the little girl. 

“Yeah!” She smiled. 

“Great! What movie do you want to watch?” You asked. 

Carl smiled at you as you talked to Franny. Seeing you play with Franny was one of the things that made him fall in love with you. Seeing a girl good with kids was attractive as hell. 

“She wants to watch Sleeping Beauty,” you said and walked over with Franny to the couch. 

“Alright. I’ll put in the DVD,” Carl said. 

“Thanks,” you smiled.

He smiled back at you and nodded. You sat on the couch, Franny sitting next to you. Carl walked back to the couch and groaned internally. He was planning on sitting next to you so you could lay your head on his shoulders whenever you go tired, which was something you did during every movie you two watched together. But now you couldn’t do that because Franny was sitting in the middle. 

“What’s wrong, C-Dog?” You noticed his annoyance. 

“Nothing. I’ve just watched this movie a billion times,” he sighed. 

“That's what you get for having a little child in the house,” you chuckled and turned your attention over to the movie. 

About 20 minutes in the movie, the oven beeped, singling that the cookies were done. 

“Franny, do you want to decorate cookies or watch the movie?” You asked while getting up. 

“I wanna watch the movie,” she said. 

“Alright, kid. Don’t cause any trouble in here. Aunt Y/n and Uncle Carl will be in the kitchen,” you said and patted her head. 

She giggled and you left to go to the kitchen with Carl. 

“You’re really good with her,” Carl complimented you. 

“Thank you. I have two little brothers, so I’ve learned a thing or two about kids. You just gotta treat them like adults, but also make sure they know they’re boundaries. Franny is such a good kid, though, she doesn’t need a lot of boundaries or rules,” you explained. 

Carl nodded. “Oh, yeah. How are Lucas and Lyle?”

“Trouble,” you chuckled. Carl laughed with you. “I bet not as much trouble as I was when I was little.”

“Hm, true,” you giggled, recalling memories of when you two were in elementary school. 

“You’ve shaped up good, though. Military school helped with that,” you complimented. 

“Thank you. You’ve always been good. Even when we broke up,” Carl remarked. 

You met his eyes. A frown was plastered on your lips. “Thank you. I try not to be sour and shit. I know it gets me nowhere.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” Carl sighed, referring two his 2-week temper tantrum. 

You gave him a kind smile. “It’s alright. I’m glad we stayed friends, though.”

Yeah, friends, Carl thought in dismay.

He put on a fake smile though. “Me, too.”

You went over to the cupboard and got out some decorative icing that you found. You put them on the kitchen counter and picked up a sugar cookie. 

“What’re you gonna put on yours?” You asked. 

“A penis,” Carl said. 

You rolled your eyes, but laughed. “I take back what I said about you shaping up.”

Carl laughed with you,  “Hey! Not fair. You asked me and I responded honestly.”

“True,” you giggled. You squirted some icing on Carl’s face, irrupting into a fit of laughter when it got all over the left side of his face. 

“And I take back what I said about you always being mature!” Carl exclaimed, squirting some icing on you. It landed on your collar bone. Carl eyed the bare skin, licking his lips, wishing he could lick it up. 

You noticed his stare. Your heart couldn’t help but race. You felt yourself start to get sweaty under your armpits. You averted your gaze and got a towel to wipe the icing off. Carl grabbed the towel out of your hands. 

“Here, let me,” Carl offered. “I was the one to make the mess.” You rolled his eyes. You knew this was one of his ways of trying to flatter you and kiss you. You let him, though. You would never admit it to anyone, but you liked when he did these things. Not so much because he was still pining over you, but it reminded you of how much of a caring boyfriend he was. 

You leaned against the counter while Carl wetted the towel. He gently wiped the icing of your collar bone. Your heart skipped a beat as his fingertips brushed lightly over your skin. His face was abnormally close to yours, too. He was crouched down and looked up to you every so often. It made your stomach flip. It reminded you of when he ate you out, looking up at you with his lips glistening. You averted your gaze, feeling warmth spread between your legs. 

Carl was taking an annoyingly long time. You sighed heavy, hoping he would be done soon because if not, you would just end up kissing him. To your releif, he backed away from you, throwing the towel in the sink. He got another towel to wipe his face off.  

Even though you looked relieved on the outside, your heart was begging for him to comeback and be close to again, to tease you. 

“Did you like that?” Carl asked, smirking at you. 

“No, you were very slow,” you lied. Carl frowned at you and looked away. You felt bad, but you didn’t say anything.

“Let’s finish the cookies so Franny can eat some,” you said. 

Carl nodded. You two decorate the cookies in silence. You put them on plates, bringing them into the living room. 

“Here, Franny,” you said and put one of the plates on the table. You sat back down, Carl following slowly after you. 

You took a few cookies, giving Franny two and keeping two for yourself. 

“Thank you,” Franny said. 

You gave her a sweet smile. “You are very welcome.”

Carl took a couple cookies and slumped back on the couch. The tension between you two was thick. It hadn't been like this for a while, but you knew to just let it subside until you felt ready to talk again. Luckily, the movie was still going, so you had an excuse to not converse. By the end of the movie, Franny had fallen asleep. Her head was on your lap and the rest of her body was on Carl’s. When the movie was done, Carl helped you carry Franny back up to Debbie’s room. You two tucked her in and went back downstairs. 

You went back into the kitchen, grabbing two beer bottles for Carl and you. 

“Thanks,” Carl said when you handed him a bottle. 

You hummed in reply and sat back down on the couch. You turned on the TV, switching to re-runs. Carl sat next to you, leaving lots of space in-between you two.  

“How is everyone else doing?” You asked. 

“Good. Lip and Tami have Freddy and Ian has Mickey,” Carl said. 

“Wow, everyone is shacked up, huh?” You asked. 

“Yeah, even Debbie. She gets mad money, too,” Carl chuckled. 

“It’s weird the way the world works,” you remarked, half paying attention to Golden Girls. “Have you met any girls this summer?” You asked, your stomach flipping thinking about his answer.

“A few, but I’m not really interesting in dating,” Carl shrugged. 

You turned to him, fully surprised. “Carl Gallagher, not interested in dating? I think the world is ending.”

Carl chuckled, “I’m just not interesting in dating the girls I met.” Carl scooted closer to you while saying those words, putting a hand on your thigh. 

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. Carl was getting closer and closer to you. You didn’t move, though. You liked his touch and being in his vicinity. 

“Who are you interested in dating?” You whispered. 

Carl’s eyes burned into yours. They drifted down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Your body shivered and butterflies shot down your whole body. You found yourself moving closer to him, putting your hand over his. 

“You,” Carl spoke. 

You looked into his eyes deeply. You could tell he meant what he said. The look on his face was almost enough for you to kiss him, but you pulled away. His hand slipped off your thigh. You stood up off the couch, putting on your shoes. 

“I should go. It’s late and my parents are probably wondering where I am,” you said, avoiding eye contact. 

“No, stay. Your parents know where you are and probably aren’t worried. You always stay over,” Carl protested. 

“I’m tired, anyways. Plus, Lucas and Lyle probably miss me,” you made up more excuses and went  to the front door. 

Carl ran to you and put his hand on your arm. 

“Stay, Y/n. I’m not letting you go this time,” Carl said. 

You turned to him, tears in your eyes. “I don’t love you anymore, Carl, not like that.”

“I know you’re lying. I’m not as dumb as people think, okay? I see it in your eyes. I notice you breathing heavily when I come close to you. I know you still love me. I still love you. I’m still in love with you,” he confessed. 

“Listen, Carl,” you sighed. “I know you want to make it up to me, I appreciate it, but I’m not letting myself get hurt again.”

“I know I hurt you, Y/n. I’m so sorry for what I did. I’m stupid as shit. It hurts me every fucking time I see you. It hurt me so much to see you cry because of me. I do want to make it up to you, but I also want you back. I need you, Y/n. Please, give me a chance. I need you so fucking bad,” Carl pleaded. His voice broke and tears shined in his eyes. 

You shook your head. “I said I don’t love you anymore! Let me go!” You shouted. You wanted so desperately to get out of the house because you knew if you stayed, you would end up kissing him. 

“No,” Carl said. With that, he pulled you into his arms and crashed his lips on yours. 

With Carl’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, and his soft lips on yours, you could’t help but finally give in. You melted into the kiss, putting your hands on the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. Carl slammed you against the wall, his fingertips digging into your sides. The kiss was fast, rough, passionate. 

You were so glad that you gave in. You missed this feeling more than you would ever admit.

Carl pulled away, putting his hand on your cheek. His thumb ran across your bottom lip. His eyes stared into yours. 

“Give me another chance. I promise I won’t hurt you again,” Carl promised. 

You sighed and nodded. You knew he had good intentions, and that he was the one for you. “You better not. Or I will beat you up.”

Carl smiled, pulling you into another deep kiss. 

————

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[drawlfoy]

detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no not really

summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.

warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does

a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words

word count: 11.6k

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

happy reading y’all

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

~ 

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy. 

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

~

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two. 

“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”

The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him. 

“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too cocky, now.”

The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers. 

“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.

“Oh shi--Hermione!”

Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door. 

“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.

“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”

“I don’t understa--”

“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”

He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”

Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”

Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.

“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”

“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”

Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.

“You’re not going back to the party?”

“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”

With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.

But the walk was creepy.

There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time. 

“Who’s there?”

The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.

The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.

“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.

“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled. 

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”

“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”

“But why? This is my spot!”

“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”

Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her. 

Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.

“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks. 

“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”

“And it would be even quieter if you left.”

“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.

“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth. 

“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”

“Please leave.”

On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile. 

Task 1? Technically done.

~ 

The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable. 

Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation. 

“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.

“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”

Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.

Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.

Why was this castle so dark?

A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her. 

Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?

She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”

“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”

She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.

“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”

McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”

“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”

“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”

“How about neutral terms?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”

“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”

He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”

“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.

He stared blankly at her.

“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”

“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N. 

“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”

“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone. 

They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.

On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys. 

On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was. 

“What is it?” 

Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”

“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back. 

“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.

“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”

He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”

“What?”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“Because I want to.” She beamed.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want…?” She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”

“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs. 

He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”

“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”

“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”

“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”

Ouch.

She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??” 

“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”

Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her. 

Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.

When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on. 

“Y/L/N?” 

Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.

“Wait!”

She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.

~

“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”

Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”

“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”

“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”

“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”

“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match. 

After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms. 

“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”

“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”

“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.

The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made. 

“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”

“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”

Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”

“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”

“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her. 

Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?

Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.

“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled. 

She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.

“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. 

“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”

“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”

He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,

“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.” 

“Why?” 

“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.” 

“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”

“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”

“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate. 

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”

He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”

“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin. 

“Deal.”

Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”

Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.

“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”

“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”

“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”

“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”

Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”

“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.” 

Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”

“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”

“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”

That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”

“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”

“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”

After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest. 

Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood. 

Narcissistic snot.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own. 

She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him. 

She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost. 

~ 

When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.

“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”

“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.

“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”

He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”

“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”

“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”

“Malfoy!” 

His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”

“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”

She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.

He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”

She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”

“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.

Y/N smirked and sent him a wink. 

“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”

“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia. 

She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.

“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed. 

“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.

“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”

He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green. 

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked. 

He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”

“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused. 

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”

“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.

“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.

“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face. 

“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before? 

But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”

“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder. 

He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”

“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”

He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”

Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me. 

After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”

“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”

Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes. 

“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.” 

“Fair.”

Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”

“What’s it for you?”

“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”

“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.

“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.” 

He stared at her in silence.

“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”

“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.

“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”

She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”

“No.” His voice was sour. 

“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.” 

“Y/L/N!”

“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”

“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”

“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.

Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”

“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.

“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.” 

“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.

“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”

“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.

Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.

Here goes.

She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.

Well, fuck. 

~

The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…

She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him. 

Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow. 

When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.

But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.

The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.

“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.

“No?”

“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica. 

“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”

“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”

He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”

“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.

Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.

“Is something wrong?” 

He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”

“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.

~

Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what. 

She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned. 

So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.

“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”

He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”

“Huh?”

Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper. 

“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”

“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove. 

They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”

Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”

“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.

“Something like that.”

“Have you tried lavender?”

“I’m sorry?” He frowned.

“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.

“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”

“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”

He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”

“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”

“Just give it a sniff.” 

He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”

“Why not?”

“Not quite my taste,” he spat.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”

“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”

“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.

“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown. 

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait. 

He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.

McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.

She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”

While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill. 

Ha.

Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.

“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower. 

“What’s it to you?” she fired back.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.

“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Are they?” 

She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”

“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”

“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”

If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”

He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”

“Why?” she squeaked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”

She gulped.

“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.

“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”

He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.

“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.

“You bought it, didn’t you?” 

“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress. 

Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps. 

“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.

“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

“I live to serve,” he drawled.

And just like that, he was gone.

~

Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.

However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.

Where was that loser?

“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”

Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.

It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.

If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?

The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim. 

As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings. 

Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot. 

And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.

She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.

Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.

A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe. 

Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.

“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”

As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking. 

“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”

final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IV

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1880.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

After you came back to your room, you got a message from Steve about changing the locks on both you door and your locker. You were so taken aback by today's conversation in the student council room that you had completely forgotten about it. Apparently, Steve had already requested the change of locks on your behalf through email, and you were really grateful to him for that: you dreaded coming back to the room that had been forced open. Of course, tonight you would have to move your dresser to the door so that nobody could enter when you'd be sleeping.

Shit. It was absolutely crazy.

"I'm not sure about all this, Steve." You texted him while laying on your bed and staring at your phone in the darkness of the room. "It doesn't seem right."

Naturally, you meant the fake dating thing. It felt horrible thinking of what others would think after seeing you with five different guys. Would they be calling you a whore in the open? Make some nasty jokes behind your back? Report you to the school administration for immoral behavior? Remembering those bigots from the student office, you cringed at the thought.

Besides, it still didn't make sense to you why you had to date all five. Sure, if they were around you at all times like your friends, these unhinged bastards who stole your things wouldn't do anything funny again, but it wasn't like that. What could one guy do against a group of other students?

"Listen, I didn't want to talk about it in class, but I'm worried it won't end with a stolen lingerie."

You didn't like his message.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. They might attempt something much worse than a theft."

Oh no. Was he talking about rape? Seriously? Did he anticipate others were so crazy they would do something like that?

But then again, girls were being raped in colleges even if it weren't the all-boys schools. A shiver ran down your spine.

"But if several people attack me, just one of you won't be enough." You typed with your shaky fingers, trembling beneath your blanket.

"It's not about the pure force. Each of us has a certain reputation, and others wouldn't want to cross us over because of it."

Wait, this was interesting. What on Earth did he mean? What kind of reputation was that to prevent people from messing with them?

"Thor is a good athlete and a great leader, his basketball team is ready to beat people to death for him."

"Loki's father is one of academy’s main sponsors, and he can have this school turned upside down if he wants to."

"Bucky is a threat by himself, but he also have a company of loyal friends."

"I don't think Peter is serious enough to scare anyone, but with his computer skills he could easily blackmail others, I’ve already seen him doing it. Students would be wary to cross him over just like any of us."

Steve was writing you a bunch of messages with a terrifying speed, and you could barely read the first when he was already sending you the second. It felt absolutely insane. Did he choose every guy because the more powerful admirers you have, the less others would intervene? Well, at least in case of Bucky and Thor who could beat people to near death, it was wise. You preferred not to think of Peter - you had no idea someone as sweet and caring as him did something as disgusting as a blackmail.

“But what others will think? 5 boyfriends? Others will think you are dating-” you paused, chewing your lips to bit, “- a whore. Nobody gonna stood up for me.”

"Imagine if each of us tells our friends that other four guys were just asked to watch over you, but you date only one.”

Oh. Yes, this was slightly better. Then you wouldn’t have to do something as bold as kissing every guy in public, instead maintaining the mystery who you were really dating. 

Damn, how Steve even came up with this plan? Why was everything so complicated?

“It’s getting late. Good night.” Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed with irritation. You hoped you could ask him a bit more - about what you were going to do with the thieves Steve found, for example - but he was probably getting tired with all your questions. It was better to ask him tomorrow.

___________________

The next morning you were restless: since you were starting to going out with guys, you felt like you needed to look better than you usually were, so you spent your morning working on your hair and makeup. It was like fake dating, right? You had to pretend you wanted to look pretty for them.

What else did you have to do? Cook something sweet for them? Yeah, probably, but not at the start of your relationship. Going to cafe together? Helping each other study? Loki also mentioned the cinema...

You felt dumb. Of course, you dated guys before, but now you realized you had no idea how to act not to cause any suspicion. Oh boy, it was going to be a tough day.

Thor nocked at you door thirty minutes before your first session, but you woke up so early you were more than ready to go. As you opened the door, first moving the dresser back to its place, the guy looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey, what was that?"

"The dresser. I can't leave the door just like that until the lock is changed."

He blinked at you, watching the door and then probably remembering somebody forced the lock open to steal your underwear.

"These guys are batshit crazy." He mumbled and nodded you to go with him, putting his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't do it again."

You wanted to argue they definitely would, but, seeing his warm smile, you thought Thor simply wanted to cheer you up and smiled at him in return. In the end, he was here only to make you feel safer: you didn't doubt he was very popular with the girls every time he went out to the city.

"You look great today!" He said sheepishly, walking in the dorm's corridor while other students were staring at him silently, obviously surprised to see you two together. "I mean, not that you looked bad yesterday, I just..."

Watching his face suddenly getting crimson red, you couldn't help but giggle at his expression. You could never think Thor was actually bashful around girls. Yeah, at your old place he'd definitely be one of the most popular guys around.

It was lunch time when you two could actually talk, sitting together at the same table and being watched by everyone around. Strangely, with Thor constantly talking and often rubbing your hand with his, it didn't feel suffocating, and you held your head high: regardless whether those pricks were looking at you, you weren't going to run away to your room and cry there like a little girl. Loki was right: you weren't a silly little sheep, scared of your own shadow. You wouldn't let anyone spoil your time in the academy you dreamt studying in.

Funny enough, Thor turned out to be a talkative type when he was speaking about basketball and his team in particular. He loved sports: while you were more into hockey, the way he talked was so enthusiastic it made you listen to him with a genuine interest. Thor's love for basketball was infectious.

He seemed a simple man, this giant bag of muscles who was laughing so loud people around him flinched; Thor wasn't the exact type of a guy you would encounter on your own, but he seemed nice, sincere, and surprisingly softhearted. You felt at ease talking to him, and soon you too acted like you'd known each other for long.

It was a pity you'd only met under this circumstances. It felt like you two could became friends.

But then when Thor absent-mindedly put his arm around your shoulders, you remembered Loki's warning: they would try to gain your favors. Was it the reason Thor was so nice to someone he just met? Wasn't it suspicious of him? You couldn't let your guard down after just one lunch together. In fact, you knew nothing of the man sitting in front of you.

"I knew something like would happen." Some guy to your left sighed loudly, catching your attention. "They were fucking crazy."

"I'm not surprised either. I just wanna know who they got in a fight with to be beaten like that. Have you heard they broke Gray's both legs?"

"Woah, both? That's brutal, man."

You shivered, trying not to listen to them.

"It'd happen sooner or later anyway. They were completely wild."

A word caught your attention right away: that was what Steve called those students who were stealing your things. Could it be a coincidence? Surely, in an all-boys school the students were fighting each other constantly.

But to the point of breaking both legs of someone? Really?

As you sent Thor a nervous look, he gently patted your shoulder, lowering his voice so no one would hear him, "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. These things happen here from time to time because the guys have no idea what to do with all that testosterone."

You hoped he was right.

The rest of the day went as usual aside from Thor walking the corridors with you and chatting about sports: he managed to convince you to come see the game next month when they would be having a tournament. You were grateful to him for helping to ease your mind because the news of guys being sent to the ambulance made you shook. Steve also mentioned something about his and other's friends ready to beat anyone to death, right?

By the middle of your last class you couldn't think of it any longer and quickly typed a message to Loki. Of all people, right now he seemed the most sincere to you.

"Hi. Are the guys who were beaten last night are the ones who stole my things?"

Waiting was a special torture when you held the phone in your arms beneath your desk, hoping to see your screen lighting up with a message. In five minutes you got your reply.

"Yes." The message said simply, but it was enough for you to stare at your phone with horror, wishing you didn't ask Loki anything.

Oh shit. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It's impossible. Somebody did it on purpose. But who of the five?

"Do you know who did it?"

Next time he answered pretty fast, "No."

A part of you felt relieved. Maybe it wasn't related, finally. Maybe they got beaten by somebody who was fed up with their attitude because they were crazy as the guys in the cafeteria said.

But what if it weren't true?

"Who's the most brutal among you five?"

Biting your lips, you started rocking in your chair a little, making the guy on your left to roll his eyes in irritation.

The phone's screen flashed again.

"Barnes."

Part V

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegardener @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic

[neutinya]

Some relationships are you, a human, with a human partner, and other are you, a human, and your 240cm tall monster bf, but that's okay - !! I included their backstory as well as the setting up of the general context for this AU below the cut so if you’re interested,,, do consider reading it fhdjdj;;; I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's super fun to draw monster tooru and his 4 arms lmao I'm super excited for this AU;;; I really wanna draw more of it dndjjxjd

Iwa is monster-hunter royal blood. However he doesn't want to be heir to the monster hunter shit so he decided to run away the day before his coronation??

As a kid he would play with all the monster animals near the forest which is where he met his lizard familiar and llama ceb. The day he runs away he brings them with him??

The moment he ran away from his kingdom and title as prince he was immediately hunted down by hunters sent by his own family for dishonouring them the Iwaizumi name. Like he's straight up wanted??? ahhh

Somewhere along the way he meets Tooru and they probably wouldn't get along at the start

?? Like they meet at some weird beer house?? And Iwa obviously sticks out because he's human and humans aren't exactly super welcomed because of the history between monsters and humans. Iwa being oblivious to the monster world obviously doesn't realise why this four armed dude won't stop pestering him in spite of his attempts to keep a low profile.

Tooru had approached him because he was sure if he didn't step in, Iwa would have been killed

Iwa was initially extremely resistant to Tooru's "advances" until Tooru whispers into Iwa's ear that "I don't know if you realised but almost every monster in this beer house is staring at you with the intent to kill, so unless you want to leave this place alive, play along and let me get you out of here"

And Iwa just looks around the room and he realises that Tooru was right so he plays along and they try to leave but one of the monsters in the beer house walks up to them and asks Tooru to back off so they could kill Iwa, and Tooru is just like "no can do, he's a friend of mine" and the dude is just like "move." But Tooru is adamant much to the annoyance of the other. A fight kinda breaks out, but much to Iwa's surprise, Tooru managed to take all of them down with ease

As they go aside, Iwa just asks Tooru why doesn't he want to kill him like the rest of the monsters and Tooru is just 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷 Iwa apologises for causing such a big commotion and getting Tooru involved unnecessarily. Tooru says it's not a problem and Iwa not really having that much money on him, asks if he could return him in some other way? He offers a family heirloom at first but Tooru is just like "Not interested, although how about you let me tag along wherever you're headed?"

Iwa’s response is just "???" Tooru says "look, you aren't getting anywhere in these parts as a human, if I tag along, you won't have to worry too much about being killed and you returned the favour, it's a win win."

So that's how they kinda go off on their journey!!! Iwa actually learns a lot about monsters from Tooru who seemed much more knowledgeable than he looked (no offense to Tooru but that was Hajime’s genuine first impression) There were so many different types of monsters and Iwa was just?? So amazed and almost excited that there were so many things for him to learn and explore??

Like okay they had a bad first impression but he was kinda starting to like Tooru as a companion, listening to way Tooru told all those stories offered him a comfort that he never had back at home

Tooru did most of the talking honestly but Iwa was always intently listening and Tooru could tell he was intrigued and super attentive so he didn’t mind

He did ask Iwa about why he was wandering around in the first place and why the hell was he just traversing across the land with no plan or knowledge of the terrain. Iwa tells Tooru he ran away from his family but neglected to tell Tooru he was of royal monsterhunter blood. Iwa fires back the same question and Tooru responds saying “I get bored of spending all my time in the same old place every day.” neglecting to tell Iwa the fact that he too was of royal blood, the king to one of the many monster kingdoms. (Actually one of the most feared in fact??)

I was thinking the four armed form isn't his real monster form but a less scary version, he's actually a huge fearsome beast but he would walk around in this form to blend with the common folk. This also explains why people don’t recognize him, because if they really knew who he was, they’d be terrified of him.

Tooru is extremely flirty and generally enjoys teasing Hajime. Iwa's lizard does not like Tooru at all. It would be sitting on Iwa's shoulder, breathing small fireballs at Tooru whenever the brunette got too close- For example, when Tooru tries to wrap an arm around Iwa's shoulder or waist, Haji’s lizard would get extremely angry and began attacking him. Tooru is super upset about this tiny little creature preventing him from getting close to his new human companion, but nevertheless, he learns to pick moments where the lizard is asleep to try and engage with Haji

Sidenote, Iwa is a really fucking good archer and good at knives. He may not have had the heart to be a monster hunter, but he definitely had the physical skills to be one if he desired.

Of course there’s a bunch of shenanigans, but honestly speaking there’s also a good amount of sexual tension?? They have a lot of moments where they kinda save each other, whether it be having run ins with unfriendly monsters or humans, to navigating dangerous terrain and making hard decisions;;

They grow to be rather close friends I would dare say;; In fact, for the most part, Tooru would be Iwa's first genuine friend :(( Iwa was never given the luxury of having friends growing up. He spent most of his time training to be a monster hunter or learning about them, which is why he grew super attached to Tooru platonically at first

Once they have a pretty mean run in where Tooru ends up seriously hurt;; Iwa was so scared that he would lose Tooru at that moment;; Tooru fake dies to kinda tease Iwa but he didn't expect Iwa to cry, so as Iwa is there like "don't die on me you idiot-" Tooru "comes back to life" and is all like "awww is Iwa-chan crying because of me?" And Iwa, embarrassed, just punches him in the chest and wipes away his tears like "shut the fuck up asshole"

Tooru is just like "ow- I may not be dead but I'm still kinda hurt you know?" And Iwa feels bad so he just tries to play it off like "that's what you deserve dumbass" before treating Tooru's wounds. They end up spending the night at this cave near a lake where they decided to stay for a few days since Tooru was pretty beat up and the weather was pretty bad

Haji pretty much nursed Tooru back to health, finding berries, herbs and all that during the day in order to make medicine and food

I think at one point Tooru comments "You're really good at this kinda thing huh?" And Iwa is just confused like "good at what?" And Tooru elaborates "taking care of people. Not everyone can make medicine like you do you know?" And Iwa just says it was nothing and he learned most of it from reading when he was a kid

Also like I said the weather was pretty bad so imagine Iwa curling up next to his llama and lizard for warmth. Tooru finds it so fucking adorable??? Clearly the two of them loved Iwa and vice versa, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous at the sight uxjxhdh

So like one night he just casually says "you guys sure look warm over there" and Iwa just looks at him like 😐

"I gave you my cape you know" and Tooru just "Monsters can't regulate heat like humans do, at least not my species" That was a lie but Iwa didn't know that, so he kinda just looks at Tooru funny before scooting over to Tooru and lying down next to him. His llama and lizard follow, and scoot on Tooru's other side so Tooru is kinda sandwiched in between Haji and the pets. Iwa just mumbles a quiet "now go to sleep dumbass" and Tooru just smiles like a fucking idiot

Iwa quickly dozes off but Tooru not so much, when he was sure Iwa was asleep he gently drapes the cape over Iwa instead before going to bed himself

The next day Iwa is the first to wake up and much to his fucking surprise, he was pretty much incapable of moving because Tooru had somehow wound up hugging him with two of his arms. He was so embarrassed he thought he could die so he could only stay there and not do anything. After while he realises that staying like that could only mean more mental suffering so he slowly tries inching away from Tooru to which he eventually succeeds

He does his morning routine which was to look for berries and herbs because Tooru needed quite a bit of medicine. Tooru was definitely close to being back to his healthy normal self but he still needed to make sure that everything was in check

[2jaeh]

INSUFFERABLE l  KIM DOYOUNG 

GENRE: mature theme, slight smut

WARNINGS: choking, dom themes, cursing

asshole! Doyoung , enemies to ???

Words : 4k 

You’re put in a group project with the most annoying pretentious jerk your law class had to offer. Immediately Doyoung tries to boss you around but you being you, you weren’t taking his shit...soon enough he finds out he can dominate you after all...in a very different way. 

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

“Theres no fucking way...no fucking way” you groaned looking at your group project list, eyes narrowing on possibly the worst people within your course year. Slumping in your seat you half smiled at the girl who approached you, one of your fellow members from project hell. 

“Heyyy y/n I think we're in a group together” she grinned and took a seat next to you, flipping her red hair over her shoulder and checked herself out in her mirror covered cellphone. 

Dami was probably the most narcissistic person you'd ever met and being in law, it was definitely a common trait around here. Dami sat up and began tapping you on your shoulder frantically “He’s in our group! Kim Doyoung is in our group” the two of you watched as the dark haired man conversed with the lecturer, casually turning back to look at the table where you guys sat, in annoyance. 

“That guy is such a prick” a guy who slid in the desk behind you, Seungmin said and Dami nodded in agreeance as you all continued to watch him. 

“Ive never really spoken to him before” you cocked your head, “What’s so annoying about him?” 

This time another group member joined in, a quieter girl who normally sat in the back Jisoo, cleared her throat, “He is really bossy and only likes to do things his own way.”

‘Well he is about to meet his worst nightmare’ you thought knowing nothing pissed you off more than someone telling you what to do. 

The muffled conversations around you began to soften as you felt someone stand over you and drop a file on your desk. Looking up, you locked eyes with the one and only Kim Doyoung, dressed in his usual black slacks, black turtleneck and clear rimmed spectacles. He raised his eyebrow at you as if you were supposed to guess what he wanted.

“What ?” you challenged him, folding your arms across your chest and returned an eyebrow raise. 

Doyoung sighed in annoyance, his long slender fingers moved across the file and opened it swiftly, “I want you to do roll call” he said coldly. 

A lump formed in your throat. You felt like you were being talked down to, it was something that infuriated the hell out of you. He wasn't older than you, nor was he getting better grades than you but somehow he had a superiority complex. Dami quickly nudged you and you rolled your eyes, “Seungmin ?”

“Here!” 

“Jisoo ?” you placed a tick as you called out each name. 

“Dami, Jangjun…?” you looked around and noticed that the usually loud comedic relief in your classroom was nowhere to be seen. 

“I think Jangjun is late, i’ll text him” Seungmin sighed and pulled out his phone. You turned back to the roll call sheet and pursed your lips, “Kim Doyoung ?” 

Doyoung just looked down at you, sucking in his bottom lip and raised that damn eyebrow at you again. 

“You need to say ‘here’ do you not know how roll call works ?” you tested him and he rolled his eyes and sighed, “here.” 

You smiled to yourself, completely satisfied with pissing him off when your internal celebration was interrupted by an out of breath Jangjun, who threw his bag on the floor and took a seat on Dami’s desk. Doyoung looked at him disgustingly, and even though you too were obviously annoyed by Jangjun’s tardiness, was that reaction really necessary ?

“Be on time” Doyoung sneered and grabbed the roll call file making his way back to the lecturer. 

“Fuck Kim Doyoung is in this group ?” Jangjun groaned, sharing the sentiments of the entire meeting. You couldnt believe these were the people you had to work with for the week. It's like you could almost feel an outburst waiting to happen, whether it be from you or Kim Doyoung. 

Doyoung returned and took out his phone, not really looking at any of you as he spoke, “we should make a group chat to update each other on work”

The group hastily shared each other's details and Doyoung created the chat and pinned a set of three rules. 

The first was the group was strictly to be used for the project, no small talk or any other messages that weren't related to the project. The second rule was that no one talks about the group content in private chats as it will cause confusion among members. Lastly you weren't allowed to message after 9pm unless it was an emergency, a very serious emergency. 

“Dang is this the military ?” Jangjun snickered as Seungmin and Dami tried their best to hide their laughs. It was typical of people like Dami and Jangjun to not take anything seriously. Their families were well off and they were just studying just for a piece of paper you call a degree. Doyoung couldn't even hide his annoyance, not like he ever did but he seemed particularly pissed off today. 

“Look, just follow the rules and all of you get a free pass and then we never have to speak to each other again” Doyoung spat and made his way to the exit leaving the rest of you in utter shock. 

———

The first two days were utter hell as Doyoung tried to take control of almost every aspect of the project and frankly you didn't even mind because his business proposal was flawless, it was just the way he spoke to all of you that drove you insane. 

“Dami its not fucking rocket science all you need to do is make a clientele spreadsheet with the mock list the professor gave us” Doyoung didnt even lift his head from his laptop, unaware of the impact his words had on her. 

Dami pushed away from the desk and her eyes began to well up and before you knew it she was running out of the library, with Jisoo and Seungmin following quickly out of concern. 

“Nice move asshole” you rolled your eyes, continuing to work on your laptop. 

Doyoung peered up and pushed his spectacles up, “what was that?” 

“I said nice move asshole, do you intend to talk to your future clients like that?” He initiated a different kind of anger from you but you managed to keep your cool. Doyoung shrugged as if what he had said to Dami had not carried any weight and continued typing away. 

A few minutes of the members disappearance quickly turned to an hour and Doyoung’s nonchalance about the whole ordeal really ticked you off to the point of slamming your laptop closed and pushed back from the desk. 

Doyoung quirked his eyebrow at you, “Is something wrong ?” 

“Is something wrong” you mimicked him, “Jangjun hasn't come in today because you sent him on multiple errands, and you just made Dami cry over something so ridiculous”

Doyoung sat back in his seat and rubbed his temples, “They're all freeloaders, you and I are the only ones doing work, why do you care so much about them?” 

“Basic human fucking decency maybe?” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “listen im not like them, i'm not gonna take shit from you”

“Sure”

“Youre a fucking asshole Kim Doyoung.” 

—-

You lay in bed and replayed that scene with Doyoung in your head multiple times. He was so unbothered by your antics nor did he care about anyone's feelings within the group. He was cold, heartless all he thought about was himself. His cold expression was practically engraved in your head, spending all these hours with him was really not your favourite pastime. 

Group 7 gc 7:00pm

KDY: I posted a schedule for tomorrow we will be working in pairs on the highlighted sections. 

You took a look at his document and groaned when you saw your name placed next to his. There was no way, no way in hell you want to work with him one on one. Not caring about breaking his rule, you pulled up a private chat with him and began expressing your concerns. 

y/n  x  KDY : 7:10pm 

Y/N: Hi, there's no fucking way in hell am I working with you. Change It. 

KDY: I said no private chats and no, I'm not changing it. 

Y/N: Wouldn't it be better for us to split and have the others actually DO work for once ?

KDY: I barely gave them room for error, we're going to be the most anyway and besides, I'd prefer someone who can handle...my personality. 

Y/N: …..so you agree..you are an asshole ?

KDY: I give people a reality check that's all..

Y/N: whatever makes you sleep at night...can I atleast choose our work venue because If I were stuck in a library again with you I might kill you. 

KDY: haha..

KDY: sure. 

Y/N: mango drop cafe, 10am. 

KDY: cool, see you then. 

‘Haha’. You had no idea why that text in particular riled you up. Did he find all of this amusing ? Was he making everyone's life a living hell because he enjoyed it ? You stared at his messages and somehow ended up on his profile picture. He was leaning against a railing dressed in all black with his hooded eyes concentrated on the camera lense, Your realization of how attractive he was came from the fact that you stared at the picture for a good 20 minutes. You wondered who took the picture, a girlfriend maybe ? You shook your head. He seemed too uptight to be getting laid. You sighed, closing your phone and awaited yet another day with the insufferable gorgeous man that was Kim Doyoung. 

You arrived quite early at the cafe but of course Doyoung was here before you, already typing away at his laptop, in his usual attire. You greeted the barista and placed an order for a chilled cafe latte before making your way over to him. 

“Hey” you said simply and took a seat opposite him in the booth. Doyoung’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and made room for your books on the table.

“You're here early” 

“You're already picking a fight with me?” you said casually setting up your workspace. 

Doyoung chuckled under his breath and shook his head, “I just didn't expect you this early y/n it's not that serious.” 

You ignored his words and got straight to work, not in the mood to play his little game. You felt Doyoung look at you a few times. You weren't sure if it were to check if youre doing the right thing or he was just looking at you. 

“Well i'm done with my part” you stretched your arms above your head and yawned. 

“Yeah I'm pretty much done too, Do you want another cup of coffee ?” Doyoung offered pointing to your empty cup. You were taken back by his softer demeanor but quickly nodded, “uh yeah sure.” 

Doyoung returned carrying a tray of two fresh cups of coffee and a slice of cheesecake. Setting everything down he handed you the extra fork and placed the cheesecake in the middle of the table to make it easier to share. 

“H-how much do I owe you ?” You fumbled in your bag for your wallet. 

“It's okay, it's my treat” Doyoung replied, placing a piece of cheesecake in his mouth and slowly licking the fork clean. You gulped as his tongue darted out carefully licking the cream from the metal, not leaving any residue behind. You had no idea what the hell was going on but you felt hot, almost claustrophobic. 

“You're okay?” Doyoung asked innocently, unaware of what he was doing to you. 

“Why are you being...nice?” You questioned, knitting your eyebrows together as the man continued to act as if this was his usual behavior. 

Doyoung pursed his lips and placed the fork on the plate, “You want me to be mean to you?”

“No I just don't get-”

“I apologized to Dami and she told me she only overreacted because the guy she likes, Seungmin was there” Doyoung explained and removed his spectacles, “she was embarrassed to ask anyone for help, I paired them up for today.”

“Wait wha-”

“Also Jangjun works at the campus radio” Doyoung continued, “I had only found out the day we all met, I gave him tasks that will allow him more flexibility, that way he doesn't have to join group sessions often.” 

You blinked, unable to form any words in order to reply to Doyoung. Especially after he chuckled at your speechlessness, knowing you didn't bother getting his side of the story at first. 

“You were right y/n I dont have to be an asshole all the time, I just like to get my work done” He shrugged. You kept eye contact with him but somehow it felt as if he were still toying with you, waiting on your next reaction. He seemed like he played this game often, making sure he always had the upper hand. Doyoung seemed relaxed as he stared at you, taking another scoop of the cheesecake and slowly ran his tongue over his lips after his bite. What the fuck was he doing ? 

“Y/N ?” you heard a familiar voice come from the entrance of the cafe. Your attention diverted from Doyoung to the blonde haired boy who began approaching your table. 

“Jungwoo ? oh my God what are you doing here ?” You stood up and pulled him into a tight hug and pecked his cheek. Doyoung shifted awkwardly in his seat as he watched your exchange with the stranger. 

“I got off early from class about to go to Subway, are you still doing that group project thing?” Jungwoo looked over at your table and half smiled at Doyoung who tried to distract himself with his phone. 

“Uh yeah but i'm all done here I think, wanna hang out ?” you hooked arms with Jungwoo as he nodded enthusiastically. You turned around and scratched the back of your head, 

“So...uh”

“Were all done you can go, I have somewhere to be anyway” Doyoung smiled as you slowly began packing up your things. 

“Alright, see you tomorrow I guess” you bid your goodbye and headed out for lunch with Jungwoo. 

—-

You had just finished up your skincare routine and caught up with a few instagram posts when you noticed Doyoung had followed you. Sitting up in bed you scrolled through his feed curiously. Every post was aesthetically pleasing and he looked absolutely hot in every single one of them. He had to have a girlfriend right ? No guy posts pictures this good without women flooding his DMs. 

There was no harm in doing the same since he was in your class, you decided to return the follow and close the app. Suddenly your phone vibrated with a new message in your chats. 

Y/N X KDY  10:30pm

KDY: hey 

Y/N: aren't you breaking two of your rules right now ?

KDY: haha 

KDY: I didn't realize what time it was…

Y/N: ….anyways..is this about work at least ?

KDY: kinda… you left one of your books at the cafe. I have it with me. 

Y/N: oh… thank you.

KDY: no prob...oh I hope its not a problem I added you on ig

Y/N: no its okay we are friends I guess

KDY: haha I thought I was the insufferable asshole..

Y/N: you are...but not all the time. Look im sorry for saying shitty things about you. 

KDY: its all good. 

KDY: …….

Y/N: ..whats up?

You twirled your fingers as you watched the three dots from Doyoung pop up and disappear over and over again. What was taking him so long ? 

KDY: that guy….that you met at the cafe..is he your boyfriend ?

Y/N: Jungwoo ? no way we've been friends since high school.

KDY: oh..

Y/N:....why would you even ask that ?

KDY: curious. 

Y/N: curious about who I'm dating ??

KDY: A little. 

You frowned at your phone and noticed Doyoung had changed his profile picture to a selfie. The picture was..something alright. You bit down on your lip as you enlarged the picture, which showed a wet haired Doyoung with his head resting in his palm and his long index finger was placed between his plump lips. 

“Fuck y/n get yourself together” you gave yourself a pep talk before opening his chat back up again. 

Y/N X KDY  10.54PM

Y/N: fine if you can ask a question can I ask one..

KDY: go ahead 

Y/N: who do you keep thirst trapping for ?

KDY: ….haha thirst trapping ? 

Y/N: Yeah who do keep posting these hot pics for huh

KDY: …..

KDY: You think i'm hot ?

Fuck. Why did you word it that way. You groaned immediately regretting sending that message but something in you was so curious about him you decided to just risk it, what was the worst that could happen ? 

Y/N: well yeah, I mean I'm sure everyone thinks you're attractive, you seem to know it too. 

KDY: wow. 

KDY: I think you're hot too. 

What the hell was going on. You felt your face heat up and you placed your pillow in between your legs as you turned on your side. 

KDY: I was almost disappointed when I thought Jungwoo was your boyfriend, he's way too passive. 

Y/N: ...and what makes you think you know what kind of man I need ?

KDY: hmmm

KDY: first of, with that fucking attitude of yours..A dominate one. 

You swallowed hard as you felt a tingle in your stomach, squeezing your thighs together on the pillow to create more friction. 

Y/N: I could say the same for you. 

KDY: You may think youre dominate in many aspects...but when it comes to fucking..im the one in charge. 

God you hated how hot that sounded. He had you in the palm of his hand through text. You were a mess and he wasn't even the room to fuel it. You wanted him so fucking bad it was insane. 

Y/N: running your mouth doesn't equate to doing it you know...

KDY:.....

KDY: then would you like me to show you ?

Everything happened so damn fast. One minute you two were texting the next minute you were sharing your apartment location and Doyoung was on his way over. You scrambled to put on sexier underwear and do your hair, still in shock by the fact that Doyoung was on his way over to bang you. 

You jumped when you heard the doorbell and realized it was him. Opening the door you were greeted to a very different look of Doyoung. His hair was messy and reached his eyes. Instead of his usual black academic attire he wore a loose white vest that showed off his toned chest and arms, along with a pair of grey sweatpants. 

“Hi” Doyoung smirked, his eyes were dark as he scanned your figure. 

“Hi” you responded, leaning against the wall in the hallway and looked up at him. Doyoung slowly approached you, like a lion circling its prey. His slender fingers danced lightly along your body, drawing a line from your waist until he found your throat and wrapped his cold fingers around it. He bit down on his lip as he studied how perfectly his hand looked around it and squeezed gently, smirking after hearing a soft moan emit from you. 

“I want you to do as I say, any back chat from you will get you punished you got that ?” he brought his lips down to your neck and exhaled. 

You nodded in response but that wasn't good enough for Doyoung. You felt his squeeze on your throat once more and he used his hips to pin you against the wall, “use your words” he gritted his teeth. 

“Yes sir” you replied obediently, and felt him smile against your neck. 

“Good girl, and if i'm too rough let me know so I can stop okay ?” he replied, his voice changed and it was much sweeter and genuine than before. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek when you nodded and led you to the bed. 

Doyoung lay you on the bed, already stripping off his shirt and ordered you to undress yourself and rid him off his sweatpants. You bit down on your lip taking notice of how aroused he was when you palmed his member. 

Doyoung watched you through hooded eyes as you discarded his sweatpants and boxers. He softly patted your head and grabbed a tuft of your hair in order to make you look up at him. 

“Spit” he ordered, and held out his hand and you did as you were told. You watched as he lathered himself with it, moaning as he stroked himself. He was so damn sexy, biting down on lip and slowly pleased himself as you watched. 

“Do you want this inside you sweetheart ?” he cooed and placed a finger under chin. 

You nodded quickly, “Yes please” 

“What do you want me to do baby ?” He purred and hovered over you as you lay on the bed, breathing heavily as his fingers moved against your warm skin, tracing your curves, ghosting over your heat and returning back to your lips to insert a digit inside. 

Doyoung watched diligently as you sucked on his finger like the good girl he knew you were. He finally pulled his finger out and with one swift movement entered with his member before you could even respond to his question. You moaned as he quickly slammed his hips into yours, wasting no time in gaining a rhythm as you marked his back with scratch marks feeling as though you were on a high. 

Doyoung fucked you like a pro, wasting no time to switch positions and had you on all fours, slapping your ass before slamming into you again, that pretentious smirk forming on his face as he heard your whimpers asking him for more. 

“Are you ready to cum sweetheart ?” he asked, pulling you up as his strokes became slower and tugged on your ear with his teeth. 

“Y-yes yes i'm ready” you panted.

“What's the magic word ?” he growled as he grabbed your throat and slowed down his pace as you were nearing your climax. 

“Fuck youre so annoying PLEASE, please let me cum Doyoung fuck” 

Doyoung chuckled and picked up his pace until you finally climaxed and he followed shortly after, collapsing in the bed next to you. 

“You have such an attitude God” he rolled his eyes playfully, bringing the blanket over your bodies and grinned when you moved in to cuddle him. 

“I guess you will have to fix that some time” you yawned and wrapped your arm around his waist, “but I have to admit, maybe I do enjoy the insufferable Kim Doyoung bossing me around once in a while.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moments of physical contact can occasionally forge long-term telepathic bonds between cultivators. These bonds are usually based on positive emotions like familial or romantic love, or deep feelings of friendship, but the emotions don’t necessarily have to be positive to forge a bond. Wei Wuxian is very upset to find out that punching Jin Zixuan in the face apparently counts as a sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moment of physical contact.

on ao3

Wei Wuxian had been obsessed with the idea of a resonant bond ever since he first learned about it.

Sure, it was a rarity. It was easier for a cultivator to find a friend, a lover, or even a soulmate than it was for them to create a resonant bond, which required not merely liking or understanding or even love but rather a single moment in time in which two cultivators were on exactly the same wavelength.

Their cultivation strength, their frame of mind, the state of their bodies, the exact way in which they touched – in that one moment, everything would be exactly the same, and the Heavens would forget for that brief moment to see the two as separate, like two separate raindrops merging into one before the moment passed, some difference introduced, and they were broken apart into separate beings again. Yet even after they separated, they would irrevocably retain some aspects of the other, a connection that generally manifested, it was said, as a mental bond that could not be broken, a tie that would keep them bound together no matter the distance.

Such a thing could not be worked towards, only hoped for; it was a matter of luck.

Wei Wuxian had never wanted anything more in his life.

The thought of never being alone again – it enticed him, it excited him. Jiang Cheng could wrinkle his nose in distaste at the idea that he might not be alone in his mind anymore, that someone would see all the stupid or terrible things he sometimes thought, but to Wei Wuxian that was the best part: that someone would see you and know you and you would see and know them, too. To have someone to accompany you through the best and worst moments of your life, always at your side…

To never fear abandonment, to never need to worry about someone going out only for a little and then never coming back.

It would be amazing.

That was what Wei Wuxian thought.

Well, that was what he thought right up until he punched Jin Zixuan in the face for insulting his shijie, his whole heart burning at the unfairness of adults who didn’t understand, at other boys who didn’t appreciate what they had, at everything all around them and at his own weakness in not being able to do more, and something just –

Clicked.

-

“Hey, wake up! Wake up! Are you all right?”

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, only to be assaulted with what felt like double vision. Above him were Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, hovering and looking anxious, and from the corner of his eye he could see Lan Wangji, who he so enjoyed teasing, was sweeping over to them with a grim expression – and yet at the same time he thought he could perceive different faces above him as well.

Three young men and two women, all looking down at him with smiles like sharks, ready to devour. Each one of them draped in the gold they lusted to take from his hands –

What the fuck? Wei Wuxian thought groggily. How did I end up on the ground?

Good question. I didn’t think I got punched that hard.

Wait, Wei Wuxian thought. Hold up, I got punched? I didn’t even see the peacock lift his fists!

…Wei Wuxian? Is that – you?

Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide when he realized he hadn’t said any of that out loud, that to judge from Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s chatter they hadn’t heard either him nor the other voice. Which meant that the voice had to be...in his head. Is this – this is a resonant bond. We formed a resonant bond!

Shit, Jin Zixuan thought, because it was Jin Zixuan, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t say anything about this to anyone!

What? Why?

Please!

Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known that the peacock knew that word.

Fine, he said, feeling generous on account of the whole bond business. I won’t tell. For now.

“Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking worriedly fretful. “Are you all right? You haven’t said anything.”

“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his head and trying to think of a lie to explain why he fell over like that. “I think the peacock must’ve had a talisman or a defensive weapon or something. Whatever it is, I’m fine now.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re all right,” Jiang Cheng said, looking deeply relieved. And then, a moment later – “Because I’m going to kill you - !”

There wasn’t too much time to talk after that. Wei Wuxian was sentenced to kneeling, and then his Uncle Jiang arrived and Sect Leader Jin arrived – oh no, oh no, oh no, I fucked up, Jin Zixuan thought hopelessly, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel a bit of the same – and the next thing Wei Wuxian knew, the engagement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli was broken and he was being sent to pack up his things, to be taken home at once.

Jin Zixuan was swept away by his father, too.

“A pity about the engagement,” Sect Leader Jin remarked idly as they walked together. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have said such a thing. Your mother will be disappointed.”

Wei Wuxian could feel the way that that jabbed at Jin Zixuan’s heart like a stab with a sword.

“Still, it’s no harm,” the man continued, indifferently ignoring the impact his words had had on his son. “One could even call it a gain! You won’t be burdened down with that shrew’s daughter anymore.”

That what?!

Tune out of this conversation, please, Jin Zixuan said, his thoughts dull and sluggish and resigned. It’s going to get worse from here on out.

It did.

Sect Leader Jin commented at some great length about his views on Madame Yu’s many faults – her temper, her strength, her nosiness, her thought that she was worth anything other than a pair of legs and an inheritance – and contrasted it with some salacious comments on her positive traits – mostly the legs, with a few comments on the upper half as well – and then he started speculating about Jiang Yanli, too, in a way that made Wei Wuxian’s blood boil.

It’s not about her, Jin Zixuan told him, his voice a little desperate in a familiar way – he was used to having to defend his father, and just as obviously didn’t want to. He’s building up a defense.

What?

For my mother. She’ll be angry at him for agreeing to break the engagement, so he’ll say that it was my idea, say all this stuff, and then she’ll be angry at me for believing it, instead, even though I don’t. This isn’t what I wanted at all.

Wei Wuxian frowned. You wanted to marry my shijie? You sure didn’t show it!

No, I just didn’t want to marry anybody, Jin Zixuan said, and…okay, fine, that was a pretty respectable position. Wei Wuxian didn’t particularly want to marry anyone yet, either. I just got angry when everyone was talking about how it was a done deal, that’s all. Just one more thing that got picked for me.

Wei Wuxian had heard Jiang Cheng complain about similar enough things – how much of his life was selected in advance, how much was organized for the benefit of his sect rather than his own interests, how little choice he got. How even if he’d been as good as Wei Wuxian, or even better, he still wouldn’t have been able to go out and hunt pheasants all day the way Wei Wuxian did.

He refused to feel sympathy. Well, you shouldn’t have taken it out on my shijie!

Probably not. Jin Zixuan was silent for a moment. It probably doesn’t help, but I’m sorry for my rudeness.

Wei Wuxian hated it when people were reasonable. It made it so much harder to stay angry at them.

Are you going to tell me why I can’t tell people about this bond yet? he asked. You’d better have a good reason, I had to put up with an entire scolding from Jiang Cheng because I didn’t have a good excuse!

Later tonight. I promise.

That night, Wei Wuxian excused himself early and hid himself in his room on the boat. He knew that he was giving both Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng the impression that he was feeling deeply guilty about having broken the engagement, thereby making them feel bad about it, which he didn’t intend, but he really wanted to hear the reason. If it wasn’t good enough, he’d really break Jin Zixuan’s nose this time!

It really is a good reason!

Well, then? If it’s so good, don’t keep me in suspense!

Jin Zixuan sighed. Wei Wuxian felt it like an exhalation on his cheek, as if Jin Zixuan were right there beside him. You know how a resonant bond is supposed to be equal?

What do you mean ‘supposed to be’? Wei Wuxian asked, and felt something cold in his belly.

There are forbidden techniques, ancient ones, that are designed to manipulate a resonant bond into an unequal state. To make one side the master and the other the slave.

That’s disgusting!

If we told anyone, my father would find a way to get one, Jin Zixuan said, and he wasn’t guessing. His voice was utterly certain. There’s very little money can’t buy, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the idea of having a spy in the very heart of the Jiang clan.

Well, then just don’t tell him!

Just like I didn’t tell him about what I said about your shijie?

Wei Wuxian got tripped up by that. It was true, Jin Zixuan hadn’t said a word about what had happened, and yet his father had already known every last detail. How..?

One of my ‘friends’ told him, of course. Probably more than one, actually – I wouldn’t be surprised if they all passed it along. It’s what he pays them for.

He pays for your friends to spy on you?!

I already told you that there’s little money can’t buy. Why not friends?

I wouldn’t be friends with people who accepted money to spy on me. Why do you?

If it’s not this set, it’ll be another, and it’s all the same. If they won’t be bought, then I can’t be friends with them…anyway, I’ve gotten used to these ones.

All of them? Wei Wuxian asked. Even Mianmian? She didn’t seem the type…

Her name is Luo Qingyang, and yes. Her parents are sick and my father’s paying for the treatment; if she doesn’t tell him everything, he’ll cut off funds…she told me about it, though. Said that if there was ever a time that I wanted her to ‘forget’ to report something, she could do that. That’s more than most would do, and probably about as much as anyone can expect –

Have you ever had a friend that wasn’t bought? Wei Wuxian asked. I mean…ever?

Jin Zixuan was silent.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Well, I guess you have me now, Wei Wuxian thought, with only a tiny amount of self-pity for the stupidity of agreeing to be friends with Jin Zixuan. Still, if he’d survived his efforts at being Lan Wangji’s friend, he could survive anything. No one’s going to buy me!

But –

Nope! No take-backs! We have a resonant bond, peacock. You think I’m going to waste a gift from the Heavens like this just because it’s with you? You’ve got another thing coming!

…can you at least stop calling me a peacock?!

-

Madame Yu made her displeasure clear enough when Wei Wuxian returned, ordering him to kneel all night and do every available chore and things like that, but Wei Wuxian didn’t take it to heart – he never did, really.

Like Jiang Cheng, Madame Yu’s bark was worse than her bite: for all that she hissed and spat and punished him with kneeling or holding up weights, she’d never denied him resources, kept him back from training, or even denied him the spot of head disciple to promote another less qualified in his place, which she very well might have if she were a bit pettier.

So he didn’t take it personally, even if Jin Zixuan seemed indignant on his behalf – you were defending her daughter! You’d think she’d give you some leeway for that, at least! – and at any rate it was better than Jin Zixuan’s slow meandering way home, with his father disappearing every night into a brothel or the bedroom of some innkeeper’s daughter or something like that.

It was better than Jin Zixuan’s mother’s reaction, too, which was to scream and shout and say vicious nasty things, to smash plates and vases against the walls right over his head, and then to pull him into her arms and make him promise over and over again that he would never betray her.

I think I suffered more in terms of physical exertion, but you get full points for all the emotional devastation, Wei Wuxian said after Jin Zixuan returned to hide in his bedroom. Does she do that a lot?

All the time, Jin Zixuan said. All the fucking time.

After a moment, he added, guiltily, It’s only that she loves me –

Ugh, don’t even start with that, Wei Wuxian said. Complaining about awful parent-related trauma is boring, I get enough of it from Jiang Cheng. Help me figure out what I should do tomorrow: flying kites, swimming, or hunting pheasants? Oh, or fishing!

…seriously? Do you spend any time cultivating?

Oh, come on. It’s my first day back!

That just means you have more you need to catch up on!

-

Your shijie is really nice.

I told you!

You didn’t! You just hit me!

-

Wei Wuxian loved having a resonant bond.

Sure, it wasn’t with someone useful like Jiang Cheng or even wonderful like Lan Wangji – I can hear you, you know – but it was kind of nice to have someone to complain to when it would be awkward to put it onto Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli.

The other half being Jin Zixuan was also not as bad as he had first thought it would be. Sure, he was just as spoiled, arrogant, vain, and deeply cynical about human nature as Wei Wuxian had thought – I can still hear you! – but he was also an awkward introvert with no social skills and an over-active guilt complex – fuck you too, Wei Wuxian – and, in the sum total of things, surprisingly tolerable. Thanks? I think?

It’d certainly made the indoctrination camp more tolerable, even if it did mean having two people talking in his ear about how he needed to think more about the consequences of his actions and how it might reflect on his sect, and certainly having Jin Zixuan confirming that the other disciples had made it out of the cave and were moving at full speed to try to get help made the days he was waiting with Lan Wangji a lot less stressful, and their ensuing rescue a lot easier.

But sometimes –

This is a terrible idea! You can’t do it!

You don’t get a say! Wei Wuxian snarled. This is my decision.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said. A moment later, quieter: Is this because I couldn’t make it to you in time to help?

Wei Wuxian swallowed, feeling his eyes burn. The Wen attack was a surprise to everyone, he said. Even if you were able to convince your father to let you go help with everyone you had, it wouldn’t – you wouldn’t have made it in time to do anything.

After his father had refused, Jin Zixuan had snuck out of Jinlin Tower through what he’d thought was a secret passage and tried to go anyway, only to be caught and dragged back. Wei Wuxian appreciated the effort, even if it didn’t make a difference in the end.

When they were on the run from the Wen sect, after, Jin Zixuan had encouraged Wei Wuxian to head to Lanling, swearing that he wouldn’t allow anyone to turn them over to the Wen sect, but they hadn’t gotten that far.

And now…

It’s my choice, Wei Wuxian said. You don’t get a say.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said again, but his voice was softer. Fine. But I’m here for you.

Wei Wuxian smiled, just a little bit, and told to Wen Qing to start.

-

I’m going to murder my father, Jin Zixuan said, conversationally. And then go to the hell reserved for patricides and be reborn as a chicken right before slaughter.

For shame, Wei Wuxian said. Not even a lamb or a goat?

No, I want to be able to bite someone and mean it, and chickens are better at that than goats.

Wei Wuxian giggled, a little hysterically. It’s fine, he said, looking around the Burial Mounds. It’s fine that he won’t let you come to my rescue immediately. Not like I’m going anywhere.

He’d thought – they’d both thought – that the resonant bond would break or maybe transfer to Jiang Cheng along with Wei Wuxian’s golden core, but it hadn’t.

Wei Wuxian had been depressingly grateful for it, for the by now familiar Lanling cadence of Jin Zixuan in his head. It made the horrible quiet empty of the Burial Mounds a little more tolerable, a little less awful.

Anyway, he said briskly, shaking off his terror at being here alone but for the voice in his head. I have an idea…

-

I feel like if I knew Chifeng-zun looked like that I would’ve made befriending Nie Huaisang more of a priority when I was younger.

I know, right? Wei Wuxian thought back. Just…wow.

A moment later, he added, a little irritably, I thought you were into my shijie again?

I am! I’m allowed to have eyes, okay?

Not if you’re surnamed Jin you aren’t.

Fuck you.

Nope. And Chifeng-zun isn’t going to, either.

He could feel Jin Zixuan rolling his eyes. I don’t even want him to, I was really just looking. Anyway, how’s Lan Wangji doing?

Lan Zhan? He’s – well, he’s always bothering me about going back to Gusu with him, talking about how my demonic cultivation is dangerous to me, but oh, you should have seen him when he joins us to fight..! You can forgive anything, really, just to watch him move – Wei Wuxian paused. Wait, why are you asking?

No reason.

Jin Zixuan! You tell me this instant -

-

Jin Zixuan was locking Wei Wuxian out of his head again.

It was a technique they’d worked on developing together – with some assistance from Wei Wuxian’s brilliance and Jin Zixuan’s ability to find and purchase extremely rare reference texts, whether on resonant bonds or just more generally, including when Wei Wuxian had needed some help figuring out some things about demonic cultivation while trapped on the Burial Mounds – as it had become moderately urgent following Jin Zixuan’s first spring dream involving Jiang Yanli, and even more so once he’d decided that he really did want to marry her, actually, if she’d be willing to have him.

There were some things Wei Wuxian did not need to know about his shijie.

Still, it was unusual for him to block him during the day. One might even call it suspicious.

I’m sorry, Jin Zixuan said abruptly. It had to be done, and you weren’t going to do it.

Huh? What are you talking about…?

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian turned, surprised. His shidi’s eyes were red as if he’d been crying, and he ran up and pulled him into his arms. “Wei Wuxian…!”

“What?” he asked, puzzled. “What’s this about…?”

“How could you?!” Jiang Cheng demanded, weeping into his neck. “You should have told me – you had no right to – to give me – Wei Wuxian!”

Wei Wuxian’s back went stiff. You didn’t!

It was the truth or you getting kicked out of your sect! He needed to know!

Fuck you! It wasn’t your choice to make!

I’m not going to stand by and let you get schemed against, Jin Zixuan said. Certainly not by my own father. I won’t!

I’m going to make you pay for this, Wei Wuxian said darkly, then looked down at Jiang Cheng in his arms. And possibly thank you for it. But I’m definitely going to make you pay!

-

This may sound weird, Jin Zixuan said. But I think I’m being poisoned.

Based on what I know about Lanling Jin sect and its politics, it’s not weird at all, Wei Wuxian said instinctively, then frowned. Are you serious? It’s not just baby fatigue or something?

That’s what I thought at first, too. But now I’m not so sure. He was silent for a moment. I don’t want to sound like my mother, but…

You think it’s Lianfeng-zun? I’m not saying he doesn’t have the most motive for it, but do you really think..? He seems so nice.

He is, most of the time. Jin Zixuan sighed. Maybe I really am just tired.

Wei Wuxian didn’t think so. He’d had a half-dozen years of listening to the backstabbing, vicious world of Jinlin Tower under his belt by now – had fought bitterly in the war only to fight even more bitterly for something like the right to attend his own shijie’s wedding, something that ought to have been his by right – had nearly suffered an ambush when he tried to attend Jin Ling’s first month party, with Jin Zixun attacking him and Wen Ning going unexpectedly crazy and Jin Zixuan rushing over as fast as he could to make them all stop. If he hadn’t already known about Jin Zixuan not knowing about this, if he hadn’t felt something go wrong and thrown himself in between them without thinking, Jin Zixuan might’ve died there and then on the Qiongqi path.

If Jin Zixuan thought he was being poisoned, he was probably being poisoned.

I’ll come visit you and look into it, Wei Wuxian said. We can pretend that I’m there to visit shijie.

They’d long ago confessed the truth to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, of course. For some reason, neither had looked all that surprised.

With your reputation, even if you figured something out, who’d believe you? Jin Zixuan asked. Ask Hanguang-jun if he’ll come, his reputation will bear up.

Lan Zhan? Sure! I’m always happy to work with him. But you know, he’s been ignoring me recently…I don’t know why…

Tell him about the resonant bond.

What? I thought we were still keeping it a secret.

Tell him. He doesn’t tell anyone anything.

Good point, I guess. You think that’ll help him stop ignoring me?

Yes.

Wei Wuxian generally trusted Jin Zixuan’s reading of people, now that he was mature enough not to let his personal feelings cloud his judgment. All right, I will. Can you tell me why?

You’ll find out when you tell him.

Unhelpful.

Noted and ignored.

Fuck you.

Yeah, you too. See you soon.

-

Jin Zixuan?

Yeah?

Thank you for my love life, but also, FUCK YOU.

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

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[winchesterxxi]

Enough is Enough (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rating: T (Teen and Up)

Type: Angst

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Female!Reader

Summary: Reader and Poe have been arguing for over a week and completely avoiding each other. This has come to the attention to the person that happens to be your third wheel most of the time - Finn. Along with BB8 and Rey they come up with a plan to get the two of you talking.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing

A/N: I’m back baby.

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It’s only 8am on a Monday and you already feel like murdering people.

Your fiancé to be exact.

As soon as your alarm had sounded across the room, you jumped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You brushed your teeth and hair, got dressed and walked out into the bedroom, striding across it and out the other door.

Poe was awake, facing the door, and he saw you walk out, eyes trailing after your back but a scowl firm on his face. He really had fucked up, and he knew it. But for fuck’s sake, you’re both adults, if you are going to give him the silent treatment like a child, he is not above doing the same to you.

So out he goes. He rises from the bed, tired hand running through his unruly curls at the same time as a yawn proceeding to complete his morning routine, before striding across the same path as you, grabbing his pilot jacket in the process.

The cantina was packed – it’s a Monday morning, of course it is. Pilots, mechanics and Resistance workers from all branches crammed along the trayline trying to get the freshest pieces of toast or the juiciest pieces of fruit before the others could get to them.

Poe doesn’t blame them. Most of these people were either on the brick of hunger and homelessness or being deprived of their needs by the Empire before they had been recruited the Resistance and the fact that they now had warm meals every day for which they paid with their own sweat, was something to be cherished.

The latter case resembled that of Finn who he spotted at one of the tables, and he made a b line to seat next to his friend. Upon getting closer he noticed that Finn was sitting in front of Rey who, in her turn was sitting next to…you.

That’s fine. This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

Before going to the table, Poe decides to take a detour and get some breakfast before sitting down. Because he was hungry. Not because this would buy him some time before inevitably sitting down in front of you and try to contain the immense annoyance you’ve been causing him for the past week.

After a few moments, Poe looks down at his tray and its fullness, food about to spill out – more food than he could ever possibly stomach. He closes his eyes and sighs before an Ewok is pushing him away from where he stood in front of the pastry baskets. Straightening himself back up, Poe finally walks up to the table, flashing a smile at Finn before setting his tray down next to him and sitting in front of you.

When he passes your side you can sense his cologne invade your nostrils and, somehow, that only makes you angrier.

“Morning, pilot.” Rey teases but her smile quickly retracts once she spots the scowl on both your faces, looking from Poe to you and to him again. Finn senses the heavy energy and eyes Rey who gives him a silent clueless shrug.

“So,” Finn asks “what plans does the Dameron couple have for today?”

It’s as if the guy read your minds.

“I don’t know of any couple that goes by that name.” You mumble into your spoon of oatmeal and Poe’s eyes zero in on you.

Panic flashes across Finn and Rey’s once they hear you. Did the two of you break up? Is the wedding off?

“People are individuals, you know, Finn.” You settle down your spoon and turn your face to him, elaborating with a tone that had a slight taint of menace in it “Even though a couple is in a relationship they remain individuals.” You point the tone in word individuals, eyes narrowing to the man in front of you. Rey and Finn exchange a look.

“The fact that people are individuals doesn’t mean they can’t share a part of the other’s identity.” He snakes into the rim of his cup of coffee, eyes never leaving yours.

“It does if that meant they had to give up a part of their own identity.” You snap back, voice low.

“I’m not sure I follow.” Rey wavers and looks between the two of you.

“Thing is, Rey.” You turn to her “and Finn… there is no Dameron couple. There is a Poe Dameron and Y/N Y/L/N couple. But I’m not even too sure of that now.”

Poe puts his mug of coffee down a little too abruptly as he leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“Are you really that entitled?”

“I’m the one who’s entitled? Have you heard yourself speak lately?” you mimic his movements, leaning forward on your own side of the table

“Why is it such a big deal for you?”

“Because it’s who I am!” you borderline-scream and get all of the cantina’s attention drawn to you, specifically those of the two people sitting next to you, looking in shock at your sudden outburst, which they’d never even gotten a glimpse of.

You and Poe hold each other’s gaze for a long while, focused on nothing but each other and the mix of rage and hurt rumbling inside of you. And when you can’t help your lips from trembling and your eyes to burn with tears, you swear you can see something break inside of him.

He himself swore he was about to break this stupid game the minute he saw your face. For the glimpse of a second, he felt like reaching his hand up to cup your face, or to hold your hand or to stroke your jawline in that way that calmed you down. But before he could act on his impulses, you stormed out of the cantina, leaving behind your cooling breakfast and a torn Poe.

“What did you do?” Rey asks horrified at what she just witness and somewhat ready to throw fists at the man who seemingly broke her friend’s heart.

“It’s not what I did it’s what I said.” He mumbles and stands up from his own seat and, just like you, leaving behind an untouched tray of food and a half cup of coffee while Finn and Rey follow him with their gaze.

It was nice of Rey to ask you to go out for drinks tonight. Not just that, but she didn’t ask questions – she didn’t throw you a pity what was that about? or are you okay? Because it obviously wasn’t. It wasn’t and you don’t think it would ever be again.

So here you were, walking into a low-light bar in Canto Bight in your favourite pair of dress and shoes with nothing in your mind but the drink you were eager to order and the friend you were looking forward to meeting – a luxury that, just a few months ago would not have been possible. When you’re fighting for your own survival, a night at the bar isn’t exactly your top priority, but that was in the past.

Straightening yourself up, you smooth your dress and walk over to the table with the number she had told you – number 15. Upon reaching it, you sat down facing the door and nudging away the waiter who comes by to ask if you’d like a drink. There was no way in the galaxy you were starting the drinking night alone. Maker knows how that would end.

It had just been a few minutes of fidgeting with the table towel when you look up to the bar’s entrance and your eyes meet the last person you wanted to see. Poe. And damn, if it weren’t for the current situation he would’ve knocked the wind right out of you.

He looked good. Shinny curls and a fresh face with his good leather jacket. He looked really good. And you hated him for that.

He didn’t quite spot you until he was halfway across the bar in the direction you were sitting in, eyes coming into focus on your figure as you quickly stood up and took a small step back. Standing to your full height, Poe swears he’d never seen you look so perfect, which made the energy between the two of you all the more painful.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, hugging your arms close to your body.

“I’m here to meet Finn.” He replies, hands nervously spasming by his side, a habit you’d come to know and love.

“On this table?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m here to meet Rey.” You answer quietly, scoffing.

“It’s a two people table.” He says matter-of-factly.

“And they’re not here.”

“But we are.”

Realization struck the both of you and Poe runs a hand over his exasperated face as you throw your head back and close your eyes. He sighs deeply before bringing one hand up to his hip.

“Can we then at least talk?”

You scoff at him.

“No.” Is your simple one-word answer before you try and make your way to the door, which he blocks.

“Y/N –“

“No. Are you going to let me pass?” he doesn’t move.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N.”

You scowl and turn around striding to where you know to be an elevator – if you can’t get out, at least you can go up. At this point, being on a different floor was enough. You can hear him mumbling words behind you but you try to pay him no intention, beyond grateful that the elevator’s doors opened as soon as you clicked the button.

“Fuck you Dameron.”

Stepping in, your not quick enough to press the closing button before Poe is slithering between the almost-closed doors and stepping into the same space as you.

“Oh, now you’re okay with using my last name?”

“When addressing you? Yeah, totally.” You nudge him so you can reach the buttons and press R for rooftop. He does a double-take on you before running his fingers across all the floors. You look up at him incredulously. “Really mature.”

“Mature is talking. And we are going to talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about!”

“Will you talk to me?”

“I don’t want t---” you were about to scream when the elevator came to a halt and you stumbled into Poe’s arms, before standing right up, the lights above you flickering.

“Great! Just what we needed.” he throws his hands up in the air, and now you really thought you could slap him across his beautiful face.

“Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t pressed all the buttons like a kid!”

- Meanwhile, above the elevator -

“BB8.” Finn whisper yells from the open door, three floors above. “How long can you hold them?”

The poor droid, with his little tools stuck in the flashing wires, beeps in response.

“He said maybe 5 more minutes.” Rey translates, before flopping back on the floor and away from the open door and the empty elevator space. After a few moments in silence, she nudges Finn’s side.

“Don’t you think this is adding fuel to the fire?”

“They just need to talk. Plus they’ve been avoiding each other. We’re doing them a favour.”

- Back on the elevator –

Taking in a deep breath you lean back against one of the elevator’s golden mirror walls.

“Why did you get like that when I said I wanted to keep my name?”

“I… do you really hate the idea of being called a Dameron so much?” his voice is small as he stands in the middle of the floor, eyes searching yours.

“It’s not that! I just… I hate the idea that just because we’re getting married I need to give up being called by my last name. I never wanted that! It’s not because it’s you. I told myself that if I ever was to get married I’d never take another man’s name.” Tears are back at pooling at the corners of your eyes as you turn your head slightly to look into Poe’s sad face.

“Or maybe you just don’t want to be known as the ex-spice-runner’s-wife.” His statement is but a whisper as his voice gets caught in the back of his throat and you have never seen him this close to tears.

That’s what does it for you. That’s what makes you reach forward and grab his warm face in your hands, guiding him to look at you.

“Hey, hey… That is not true. Don’t you ever think that. I love you. I love you for who you were, who you are and who you’re yet to be… which I hope to be there to cherish.” The tears roll down both your cheeks as a breathy chuckle leaves you. “It’s not about your name. It’s about mine. And I… it really hurt me when you said those things. Acting as if me keeping my name was a sin or something.”

He averts your gaze, looking at the floor but you motion his face back to where it was.

“Hey. Here…” you guide one of his hands to where your heart beats “I’m already a Dameron. Have been for a long time. Just not on paper. And at the end of the day… what is more important?”

It’s his turn to cup your face and bring his forehead close to yours. “I’m so sorry. I was an idiot… thank you for…this.”

“No, thank you.”

His hands are the ones that pull your face up and wipe a stray tear from the corner of your eye, before stroking your cheekbones with a feather-light touch.

“You look beautiful-- ”

“I love you.”

It’s a short and exasperate sentence, but you’ve gone almost two weeks without saying it and Maker, how you missed the way it sounded and the way it felt rolling out of your lips. Poe could say the same, the deprivation of that sentence that he has suffered sending a bolt of warmth across his body as if this were your first date all those years ago.

For a moment your eyes cross, but before too long he is lunching forward and capturing your lips in his. The tears came again as he held onto the kiss as if that was the only thing keeping him alive.

You were reluctant to pull away from the sweet embrace, but you did. And you were met with the sweet smile you had missed.

“What do we say we go downstairs… I have a feeling there’s a table waiting just for us.” He jokes, running a quick hand over his watery eyes and you chuckle at the timely joke.

“Yeah, yeah… I’d like that.” You smile, grabbing his cheek and kissing it once again. And, as if on queue. The elevator starts working again, lights flickering for a few seconds, and the only button that was on was that of the Ground floor from which you were trying to get away from just a few minutes before.

Little did the two of you know that attached to the roof of the elevator was a happy BB8 as the compartment went down and, just a few floors above, two very content Resistance members, high-fiving.

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