#a little house for my thoughts to live in

[januaryembrs]

LET IT ONCE BE ME | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [7]

Description: The THREE times she waits + the ONE time she doesn't have to.

length: 17.9k

trigger warnings: criminal minds gore + violence. jealousy. talks of sex and male and female anatomy. they get horny for one another basically. talks of Maeve + day of the dead. yearning idk? mention of one twin absorbing the other one in the womb (sorry if this is taken the wrong way but I conferred with my friend who did this when she was a foetus and she said it's not offensive and is okay to talk about so?)

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‘Let it once be me, who do I have to speak to 

About if they can redo the prophecy?’

The one where they pretend to be married

“I will not be exploited in my own home,” Bugsy chided, the faint smell of burning toast filling the small kitchenette. The butter knife sat ready in her hand, salted spread dripping down the handle where she’d been busy making breakfast before she had been called. 

He blinked back at her, unamused. 

“No. You cannot just scream at me whenever you want something from me. This relationship is toxic,” She huffed, turning back to butter her toast with the thick goodness. Sometimes she loathed living with three boys who had her wrapped around their fingers. 

The second piece of bread popped out of the toaster, which she quickly grabbed and began spreading, her fingers gripping onto the crusts gently as she did so. The squealing started again just as she readied herself to take the first bite, and she whirled around to see the two orange eyes that stared at her from on top of the counter. 

“Sergio, stop. You’ll get Niko all wound up-” She hadn’t even finished her sentence when Spencer shuffled into the kitchen, his hair mussed from sleep, his long plaid pyjama bottoms skirting high up his ankles where he’d impossibly hit another growth spurt and forgot to find better fitting clothes. Niko darted in between his legs, rushing to jump up on the breakfast bar, where Sergio was already interrogating Bugsy for more treats, a low yowl leaving his throat at the thought of being left out of feeding. “You boys are driving me crazy, no more biscuits for today-”

The yowl grew in decibels, a second one symphonying it, and she rolled her eyes, ignoring the whiney babies, turning to hand Spencer his piece of toast, crust already cut off and split into halves the way he liked it. 

“I warned you not to treat them when I’m not here, they’ve become spoiled brats,” She huffed, though she felt her entire body warm up when she looked at his doe eyes, still half idled with sleep as he watched her swan around his kitchen, their kitchen technically since she had all but moved in to his little apartment meant for two housemates. 

But they weren’t just house mates. They weren’t even dating. But she knew he wanted to. Because he loved her. 

“How could you expect me to say no, they’re so compelling,” He said, his voice gravelly where he’d lightly snored, as much as he always denied he did, fussing Niko behind the ear with long, gentle fingers. He took the plate out of her hand, his eyes swirling with a moved expression when he saw she’d cut his crusts off, his gaze snapping back up to where she’d sweeped her hair out her face, a large shirt and a pair of his clean boxers adorning her figure, “Thankyou,”

He hadn’t said the three magic words since, neither of them had. But they felt it. The weird static that had been thick in the air between them before was crackling along their skin with every glance, like they were both thinking the same thing.

I love you, and you love me.

He smiled at her warmly, the urge to grab her by her face and kiss her skin all over almost overwhelming him, because he counted himself lucky every single day. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. He heard it in every heart beat, like a mantra that his chest clung to since the words had spilled from her soft lips. She was waiting for him, for his head to settle with the idea that Maeve was gone, and he could let her go and not feel terrible about it; waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Coffee?” He asked, watching her eyes soften as they trailed over his face, and he worried he looked a little worse for wear since he’d rolled out of bed and headed towards the source of the girl he loved arguing with someone in the kitchen even though that someone had turned out to be the greedy bastard they loved dearly.

He knew he was the luckiest guy in the world to have her waiting on him, and he never let himself forget it. 

“Yes, please,” She said, and he brushed past her, close enough for it to be on purpose when their arms touched, his hands busying themselves in between the plate and munching on the first bite of breakfast, because he didn’t know what he might do if they spent one more second looking at one another like that. 

She watched him move towards the kettle she’d sent him for Christmas when she was in London. After using one for two weeks she’d seen the light and realised he would love the nifty little invention. Her arm burned where he’d touched as if he’d taken a flame to her skin, her chest boiling up with every single thing she could think to tell him, like how good his hair looked when he didn’t do much with it, or how hot his voice sounded like that, or that she really really did love him the way she’d never even thought possible outside her silly romance novels, that she’d never believed Pip when he’d told Estella; “You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read,” and yet when she thought of it now, watching Spencer busy himself shovelling sugar into two mugs, it made entire perfect sense. 

She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew him, and she didn’t ever want to know. 

She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps to say those three little words again, or just to tell him he smelled good even when he hadn’t put any deodorant or aftershave on, but her phone’s ringtone cut her off. 

Already knowing it was going to be Penelope with a new case, she flicked the call on to speaker phone, “What you got for me, baby girl?” She said, trying to make her voice as deep as it would go, and she heard Spencer snickering where he was stirring hot water into the instant coffee.

“Was that supposed to be Morgan?” Pen’s voice replied, a small chuckle of her own evident even through the digital tone.

“I thought that was pretty good,” Bugsy replied, stuffing the last of the toasted bread into her mouth.

“I thought he was right in the room with us for a moment there,” Spencer chimed in, humouring her, as he also took an enormous bite from his breakfast, knowing they were more than likely about to be called in and their game of house, one where they flustered every time they spoke, was going to be over, “I was like, woah, Morgan, when did you get here-”

“Alright, my little rascals. We have a case, Hotch wants everyone in,” Penelope said, no doubt already paging through JJ, “No more coffee for either of you, you’re both being weird enough as it is,” 

“Definitely not,” Spencer said, sliding the mug of milky, sweet caffeine over to Bugsy who smiled at him wickedly.

“Wheels up in twenty, Garcia,” The woman added in the same voice as before, Spencer laughing with a shake of his head and moving to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back, his arm winding around her waist to give her a small, affectionate squeeze on the hip. 

Penelope sighed, already accepting that their mercurial attitudes weren’t going away any time soon, the sudden mood change entirely odd to the rest of the team who had no idea that they had almost kissed just one week ago. To everyone else, they just seemed to have bounced back to normal, reverted back to Bugsy and Spencer; attached at the hip, only the eye contact and secretive smiles had been dialled to a hundred. The line went dead, and her head shot to look at him, where his hand had yet to move, and it was scoldingly hot against the soft fat that gathered at her hips.

“I’ll get your good shirt, I put it out to dry yesterday,” She said, her voice suddenly much less brave than it had been when she saw his eyes crinkling with a small smile. 

He nodded, and she caught his gaze trailing down her nose, darting over her lips for a second in a way that made her chest rev like a Ferrarri out of gear. She felt her breath catch in her throat when he looked back up to her eyes, his forest hues entrancing like he was playing some silent flute song and she was a snake dancing under his orders. 

He took a second to realise they were standing in his kitchen, his body pressed against hers like he hadn’t even realised they were so close, like he’d just gravitated to her that way, like he couldn’t stop it even if he’d tried to. He’d had a taste of nectar, and he was a drunk man ever since. 

Spencer wrangled a hold of himself, allowing himself to stroke the back of her head lovingly, and pressing a kiss to her crown, before he stepped away from her, and the siren song dropped, the two of them dispersing to get ready for the case. 

Bugsy swore she could hear her heart pounding the entire drive to headquarters.

–

“I think the real question is why married couples?” Hotch mused, a steaming cup of black coffee sitting in front of him on the jet, his nose in the file on his lap. 

Bugsy scanned over the manilla folder in her hands, her legs swinging rhythmically beneath the table she sat on, Rossi to her left, her own second cup of coffee squeezed between her thighs. It was a heavy case for a weekend morning, three married couples found slashed and dumped together, the UnSub showing no signs of slowing or stopping.

“If he’s a sadist, having a witness to his torture heightens his pleasure,” Alex added, her lips pursed in contemplation, her hair primped surprisingly neat considering they’d been called in with little to no notice on a Sunday. 

“Israel Keyes kidnapped a husband and wife at gunpoint, got them in a car, took them to a remote location, and then killed the husband in front of the wife,” Spencer said, trying not to look straight at Bugsy when he felt her eyes on him.

He’d never been one to keep a good poker face, never been good at hiding how he felt especially when he was happy. And she made him happier than he deserved to be. He knew their little arrangement would become glaringly obvious to the rest of the team if he let himself look at her. he had no control of his face when it came to her, how he felt his eyes soften, his lips turn up into a dopey smile, his hands itching to touch her just to confirm she was real.

He saw her head tilt down, into her lap as she tried desperately to focus on the words on the page, but he caught the small smile that she kept for herself, and he had a feeling she was struggling just as much as he was. 

“Keyes was a sexual sadist, though,” Rossi interjected, his hands wrapped around a scolding cup of the green tea Penelope had bought them because she’d read of the stress relief benefits. They’d taken it, but David and Bugsy were the only ones who had tried it, “This guy, I don’t know,” 

“Cutting a husband and wife to death, it’s more like he’s mocking their marriage bond,” JJ said, her bluebell hues dancing to Bugsy when the girl chimed in.

“Mutilating both of them, killing them together, it’s like the idea of couples and happy marriage is a trigger for him; it’s personal. He wants to make them pay for their happiness, likely because something’s stopping him from having it too,” She said, taking a long sip of her coffee, Rossi nodding along with her. 

“That’s where my head’s at. ‘You took each other for better or worse, now I’m going to show you worse’,” He said, leaning back against the table, his shoulder nudging the younger girl. 

Derek stroked a hand over his stubbled beard, “His home life’s probably a wreck, at least one ex-wife, not to mention mom and dad,”  

“Alright we need to hit the ground,” Hotch said, flicking a glance at the youngest agent where she was all but inhaling her sweet beverage, “Prentiss and Reid, I want you mapping out a geographical profile,”

She nodded, her eyes slowly trailing to Spencer’s as Hotch distributed jobs around the team, but her head subconsciously tuned his stern voice out into static. Because when she looked up at his face, he was already staring at her, and the sound of her heartbeat racing crawled its way back into her ear, the thrumming so loud she was sure David could hear it too, she might as well have held a megaphone to her mouth and announced “Spencer Reid, you make me so nervous in the good kind of way,”

His hazel eyes trailed over her face, her expression unreadable as she scrambled to keep a lid on her feelings, and she wondered if this was where the phrase ‘Don’t shit where you eat,’ came from, because him so much as looking at her wiped her mind completely, which was not ideal for an agent working on a case. But she couldn’t help it, he was enchanting, and she guessed he was having just as much of an inner quarrel as he looked away from her, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his earlobes turning a strawberry ice cream pink. 

She had no idea how she was going to make it through the rest of the day so close to him. 

–

“First couple were last seen on the corner of Hill Avenue, Bella Mia Italian restaurant,” Bugsy read from her scrawled notes, as Spencer took a purple white board pen to the map of Detroit. Drawing a circle of a 5 centimetre radius around the little dot, he kept his eyes ahead of him. Hearing her pace behind him, he didn’t need to look up to know she was chewing her cuticles again. 

“Stop biting,” He chided lightly, hearing a guilty silence where he knew she’d caught herself with embarrassment. He tried not to show his amusement, knowing it would only make her feel worse, he bit down a smirk and raised his pen back to the map, “Next one?” 

She’d been on edge all day. He would have probably brushed it off as caffeine jitters seeing as she was on her fourth cup already, but Spencer knew her too well to know her tolerance was so high she had about two more mugs in her before she’d start to crash. 

He knew what it was, the memory of her skin beneath his lips burning his cheeks all over again, the look in her eyes when he’d been close enough they were sharing breath. He knew what it was because he felt it too. It was like their confession had set off a ticking time bomb, one that neither of them had the countdown to, and the clicking of every passing second sounded oddly like a pulse in their throats. To put it short, just the sound of her footsteps was making his skin pimpled with gooseflesh. 

“Uh, next one is Bowlarama, about ten stores down from there, Couple number two were seen getting milkshakes and heading towards the parking lot before they went missing,” She recited, her fingers firmly clutching the paper in her hand to resist the urge of gnawing at her nails again. Why was she so nervous? She lived with Spencer, ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Spencer, spent almost all her evenings either playing chess or watching movies with Spencer, or on the odd occasion he found a book in reach he hadn’t read yet, he’d read out parts to her he found particularly engaging to those million, trillion, billion neurological pathways of his. 

The squealing of the pen against the board was the only thing keeping her head in the case, Spencer’s messy handwriting dotting around the map with points of interest, and she begged her brain to kick into gear the way it normally did, tried everything to yank herself out of the head fog she’d found herself lost in where thoughts of him emerged through like Mr Darcy strolling through those clouded moors, like how his voice sounded when he smiled, how his hand looked gripping that pen, how his body was lithe and handsome even from the back. 

She shook her head, jamming her face back into her files, to the gory images of couple number three, mutilated and bloody, and reminded herself she had a job to do. 

Get it together, Prentiss.

“Couple number three’s last known location was on the corner of Whittier Avenue, outside a wine bar named Blue Mates,” Bugsy read out, hoping her hot cheeks would dissipate before he noticed, “It seems couples out on date night really agitate this guy,” 

Spencer hummed, focused on his third circle, the three of them overlapping with almost precise measurements. It was hard not to notice the pattern to them. He heard her draw nearer with his profile complete, and they stood beside one another, so close they knocked hands when they leaned in to take a closer look at the rings.

“He hits the same street of stores every time, one after another,” Spencer said, his long forefinger trailing down the strip of shops and bars the UnSub seemed to have a taste for, “I mean, excluding retail and supermarkets, since they’re unlikely spots for a husband and wife to go out on a date, the pattern is really quite linear where he hits next,” 

Gently taking the pen out of his hands, Bugsy leaned up to colour in every single store that would be considered retail, crossing out a pet shop or two, leaving only the cafes, bars, restaurants, even a cinema. And sure enough, the three spots the victims had been last seen lined up perfectly as the first three ‘date night’ locations on the strip, the next being a steak restaurant named The Greasy Grill. 

“How much do you want to bet our UnSub is getting a craving for Sirloin right about now?” Bugsy said, putting the pen down onto the table and they exchanged a look of accomplishment, just as Hotch walked in with the Chief of Detroit police. 

“What did you find?” Hotch asked, his eyes falling to the asterisks drawn on the whiteboard, the rest of the known locations Penelope had sent dotted around the map. 

“Date night is very important to this UnSub,” Spencer said, the two of them turning to their boss, his shoulder bumping hers, and it was only then she’d realised she was all but pressing up into his side. 

“He goes on dates?” The chief of police asked, his brows furrowed. Taking a step away, her eyes darting to the map as a means of distracting herself, she pointed to the ink marks they’d squiggled on the paper.

“No, but the victims do and he knows that,” She explained, tracing a chewed fingertip down the street, “The UnSub hit here first, where our first couple went out for pizza. He then moved down here where the second victims had their date night in a bowling alley, and onto our newest victims, they were last seen having wine here, each kidnapping site along the same strip with the next possible location being right here,” She said, her finger slapping against the Greasy Grill, Hotch nodding in thought as the Chief got on the phone with his own team. 

“Good work, you two,” Hotch hummed, and he opened his mouth to speak again when Bugsy’s phone began to ring.

Snatching it out of her pocket, she caught sight of Alex’s name before swiping to answer, pressing it to her ear, “Hello?” 

“Fourth victim has just been found dumped in a car.” The woman said immediately, and Bugsy switched her mobile to speaker so the other two could hear her. Turning on her heels to face the white board, she grabbed the pen resting on the table beside her, yanking the lid off with her teeth.

“Where?” She asked, Spencer picking the plastic from between her lips to help her communicate, her eyes focused on the road names as she waited for Alex’s response. 

“Back alley between Warren and Forest Avenue, one woman found alone in a white Buick,” Alex said, and all three of their faces scrunched in confusion as she said it. 

“He’s changed his victimology,” Spencer murmured and Bugsy nodded, her lips pressed in a flat line, “Alex, is the woman married at least, or has the UnSub completely altered his preference?”

“We have her husband here right now,” Alex confirmed, and Hotch stepped over to where the two geniuses inspected the map, “He said he missed a dinner reservation they had two nights ago at a restaurant called-”

“The Greasy Grill?” Spencer and Bugsy spoke synchronously, and Alex paused audibly. 

“I take it you two have figured out his pattern already?” She asked, though she didn’t sound all too surprised. 

“See if the husband knows anything else, Blake. We’re going to figure out the next location that fits the pattern,” Hotch ordered, and they bid each other goodbye, as Bugsy and Spencer were already coordinating which plots of land were retail stores. 

By the time the line went dead, there was a big red mark circling a mini golf course slash cocktail bar, and the duo looked at him expectantly. 

“If the UnSub keeps his victims for around three days at a time, and the woman was found this morning, my guess is he’s going to head there tonight,” Bugsy said, capping the pen and dropping it back onto the desk, feeling Spencer nodding behind her, “And if the victim was supposed to be at the restaurant with her husband, it means he’s still looking for couples, he just happened to get unlucky. He’s going to want another happy-go-lucky husband and wife pairing,” 

Hotch’s face became unreadable for a moment, his gaze switching between the two of them, like he was assessing the risk factor of sending his two youngest agents undercover for the second time. But they seemed to have worked together seamlessly the first time, in that casino, so he didn’t see the qualms about asking them to work the same act this time.

“What?” Bugsy asked, the look in his eye unnerving her, and she flicked a glance behind her at Spencer’s equally lost expression, turning back to see Hotch dialling Dave’s number to update him on their plan, “Hotch, what is it?”

“He wants a happy couple,” Hotch said, his phone already up to his ear as he eyed the little to zero space between the two agents who swore blind they were just friends, “We’re going to give him one,” 

–

She had to admit, this was a little nicer than the red dress she’d been stuffed into last time. The sundress was flowy enough she could hide her gun strapped to her hip, and still compliment her figure nicely enough that she couldn’t complain. And best of all, it meant she could wear her ballet pumps instead of those god awful stilettos she’d pulled out last time they were undercover. 

She still remembered that evening in the casino, watching Spencer’s big brain tick faster than she’d thought possible even for him. The briefing of this even seemed much more relaxed, seeing as their aim was to look like the happiest couple alive. ‘You worry about playing your parts, we’ll worry about playing ours,’; was what Alex had said when she’d brought in a dress about Bugsy’s size, the woman already styling her hair to look like she was really going on a date. 

Because she was, sort of, not really, going on a date with Spencer. Except none of it was real, like someone up there had to have one final laugh at her luck, like that carrot on a string she’d been waiting patiently for the past week was looking a lot more delicious by the second as it dangled in front of her.  

There was a knock on the small hotel room Hotch had booked them in for the evening, seeing as they were going to be scoping out the area until late, and Bugsy headed for the door without pause, thinking it was JJ returning with the fake wedding rings they’d gotten from a cheap jewellers down the street. 

She swung the door open, only to be greeted by two dark eyes looking at her done up face, her primped hair, her floral dress. 

“Spence,” She said, picking over every inch of him, breathless already, because she always thought he looked hot in a button down shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, “You look-”

“You look beautiful,” He rushed, like he might just burst if he held it in any longer, and she smiled sheepishly, her face flooding with heat all over again. Damn you, Reid, with your stupid charm and ridiculously good looking lips.

“You look beautiful too,” She complimented, noticing a gold band on his finger then and she realised he had something in his palm, “You run into JJ already?” 

He nodded, smiling with a stammered breath, “Yeah, I said I’d come check if you were ready. Hotch and Dave are already there scoping out the bar,” 

She simpered under the weight of his nervousness, “Well, I’m ready,” Holding out her left hand, she raised her ring finger, “Marry me, pretty boy,” 

He snickered, shaking his head at her clear diversion from the stifling tension in the air, and held her hand in his delicately, his skin warm as it encompassed hers entirely, and he was careful to slip the false engagement ring over her digits, following it with a gold band of her own. 

“You ready to get your ass kicked at miniature golf whilst our friends catch a criminal, Mr Reid?” She asked, and he had yet to let go of her hand as she shut the door behind her, slipping her hotel room key into her purse. 

“That’s a bold statement from such a sore loser, Mrs Reid,” He said back, a smile so wide he thought he might burst a vessel as she laughed, and tightened her fingers around his, interlacing them just like she had done a handful of times before, and his chest crackled with white hot excitement when she knocked her shoulder into his side in affection. 

His lips scorched with the words Mrs Reid the entire drive to the bar. 

–

“Any eyes on him, yet?” Bugsy whispered to the women in the stalls, touching up her lipstick as JJ and Alex hid in the women’s bathroom for the signal. 

“Not yet,” Blake said, sitting on the closed toilet seat in her kevlar and jacket, all but twiddling her thumbs and wishing she’d brought a sudoku, “Are you guys having fun at least?”

“Pretending to be married to my best friend while a serial killer eyes up my guts for the taking; yeah I’m peachy,” Bugsy replied, rubbing her lips together and making sure her gun was still strapped tight to her hip, “Besides, he really is kicking my ass at golf,”

“He’s going to let you win anyway, you know that right?” JJ said, tucking her feet up onto the seat in her own stall in case anyone who wasn’t on their team came in to the bathroom, “He always lets you win because he knows it makes you happy,”

Bugsy paused, the tissue that was collecting rogue lipstick smudges from her face almost falling in the sink, and she was quick to gather her voice with a clear of her throat.

“Maybe I just win because I’m good, Jennifer,” She said, a lilt of teasing in her tone, binning the scrap tissue paper and heading for the door, “Keep an eye out, kiddos. I’m going back in,”

They chirped a goodbye, the two of them sighing as they waited for Hotch’s message, and Bugsy walked back out to where Spencer was waiting by Hole Seven. It was a classic windmill on top of a hill, a small tunnel where the door was supposed to be leading to a lower level behind the plastic decor, where the hole lay waiting for them. 

“You ready, honey?” He said, holding out a purple putter they’d chosen at the start of the course, and she smiled genuinely at him. She had been telling somewhat of a lie when she’d been so unenthusiastic in the bathroom, though she thought telling the women just how much fun she was having being married to Spencer might just rub salt in the wound considering they were bored stiff sat in the bathroom.

That and she wanted to keep whatever it was they were feeling theirs and only theirs for just a little bit longer. 

“Ready, my love,” She sang in response and let him go first. He had to lean over a fair bit seeing as he was so tall he made everything on the course look particularly miniature, including the putter that seemed dwarfed by his height. Taking a quick look at the hill, no doubt calculating the angle and force he would need to hit it with, he gave the little, pink golf ball a generous tap and it raced up the slope, straight into the tunnel. They heard it knocking around a little in the chamber, before it came careering out the other end and rolled no closer than a yard away from the hole. 

Bugsy looked at him with wide eyes, to which he pretended not to look almost arrogant with how easy he’d made it seem, only when he looked back at her with a shit eating grin, she knew exactly how pleased with himself he was. 

“I bet it’s not that difficult, it’s all just a matter of force and drag and whatnot, right?” She said, strolling up to place her lilac ball on the inky dot marking the start. 

“Totally, although this is where, I don’t know, say a degree in Engineering would come in useful, I bet,” Spencer chimed in, and she didn’t need to look at him to know he had that smirk on his face. 

“Mr Reid, get ready to eat your words,” She replied over her shoulder, smacking the ball hard enough it flew up the slope, bouncing off the wall of the windmill and racing all the way back down the hill, rolling right back to where they stood, Spencer hiding a laugh behind his hand. She gaped, her face hot with annoyance, “Wait, wait! That was a practice run, I get another go,”

“Practice run, I see,” Spencer said with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and watching her scramble to set the ball back on the marker, “So out of interest, how many of these practice runs are you getting,”

“Just the one,” She said, hitting the plastic globe again, though this time it barely made it half way up the incline before it rolled right back down again, “Two, I get two. This one’s the real one, starting now,” 

“The real one? So this one’s really the one that counts, right?” He teased, and she glared at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer to her, a look of the cat that got the cream smeared all across his face as he took a stance behind her, wrapping his arms around hers with the oldest trick in the book, “Why don’t you let your dearest husband help you out, huh?” 

“I have a masters and half a degree in medicine, I think I know what I’m doing,” She hummed, though the feeling of his hands resting over hers soone quietened down whatever fire was stoked in her belly from losing their game. Spencer was so close she could feel him breathing down her neck, feel his chest on her shoulder blades, and worst and most heinous of all, feel his crotch pressing against her tailbone. 

“Alright, alright. Just humour me,” He murmured, a new found confidence in him that he only seemed to get whenever they were playing the part of being other people. He gave her a salacious lick of his lips, smiling at her with a pink parted mouth, his eyes dark in this light like he knew what she was thinking as well, and he couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty when he flirted with her a little. He’d always thought that when she was stunned into that quiet tone, the mousy look she got on her face was rather cute. 

His hands engulfed hers with a mesh of pornographic veins and sadistically handsome knuckles, his mouth at her ear as they lined up the shot together. 

It was as if a murmuration of birds had flocked together in her chest, dipping and diving and creating all manner of shapes in her stomach as she felt it flip three or four times, his body so entirely pressed against hers she never wanted to move a muscle. She’d had the odd thought pop into her head about what sex with Spencer Reid might feel like, and yet all she could think about in the haze of the putter and fake grass beneath their feet was how delicious he felt pressing into her like that. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as she looked forward again, and she could have sworn she held back a moan when he breathed out down her spine. 

“Hotch has eyes on a guy at the bar watching us,” He whispered, her back straightening as she was reminded with a slap to the face they were still working the case. That as much fun as they were having, as happy as they were supposed to seem, they still had a very real job to do, and she felt stupid for thinking the flirty glances and erotic embrace was for anything more than to sell the married couple act. 

But Bugsy was nothing if not committed to her job. So instead of worrying if Spencer had felt anything real in the last hour or so, she decided to double down and give their UnSub a real show. 

Sticking her ass out so she brushed against Spencer’s crotch more, she intertwined her fingers with his, and hit the dimpled sphere the direction he guided her; and sure enough it rolled straight into the tunnel with little qualms.

Spinning in his arms, the smile was nearly wiped off her face when she saw Spencer’s eyes had darkened to a rich espresso hue as he looked at her. But she hid it well, despite the fact she caught the way his pupils were blown wide, and simply leaned to kiss him smack dab on his cheek, a smirk on her face when she pulled away.

“I guess I just needed the correct motivation,” She said with a flirty undertone, and she revelled in the way his lips parted enough she saw the whites of his absurdly pretty teeth. 

“Remind me to not take you out to mini golf for our first date,” Spencer huffed, his ears red as a mushroom top as they both stepped over to where the hole was and she snickered, trying her best to ignore the wings hammering away at her ribcage when he said that. 

“Duly noted, Mr Reid,” She said, watching him lineup his next shot with a smirk, and she wondered just where exactly they would go on their first date. Her smile only got wider, a girlish glee to her eyes. “So, theoretically, where were you thinking of taking me?” 

“Theoretically,” He said, lining up his shot, the ball only a small tap away from the hole, his feet spreading a little wider so he could lean down to putt the pink sphere, “I was thinking of going to that book cafe out in Delaware, the one where they have a bunch of drinks inspired by different authors. We could play a game I used to with my mom, where we choose a book for each other we think the other would like,” He took the shot, his ball rolling into the cavity without much effort as she watched him meticulously, her entire body softening with his sentiment right down to her marrow, “And then I was going to say we build a sofa fort in the living room and watch whatever movie you like, maybe get some popcorn on the way home,” 

He looked up at her, and almost reeled back in surprise to see her looking at him with something so vastly emotional in her eyes, like he’d offered her a winning lottery ticket or a chance to go back in time in a flying police box, her expression a complete window into her soul because she’d never been too good at hiding how she felt when she was around him. 

Spencer opened his mouth to speak again, only for their earpieces to jump to life, Hotch’s voice out of breath as he reported down their ear. 

“We have the UnSub, we caught him trying to sneak into your car like we profiled.” He said, and she knew his brow was creased without even having to see his face, “We’re taking him in for questioning now, you kids wrap up and head to the station,”

Bugsy hummed in confirmation, fighting the disappointment that their show was over, and they’d have to go back to their usual act of pretending there wasn’t three little words hanging over both their heads, gnawing at the back of their brains. 

Clearing her throat, she set up her shot ready to finish their game, “Well, theoretically speaking, when you’re ready to ask me on that date, I’m there,”

He smiled to himself, perhaps ready to flirt with her just a little more before they went back to being Bugsy and Spence, not Mr and Mrs Reid, when she hit the golf ball just the tiniest bit too vigorously. It rolled straight past the hole, bouncing off the wall and heading further away from the end than when she’d started, and she groaned in frustration. 

“How are you so terrible at this-” Spencer burst out laughing as she stomped over to the lilac ball, lining up another shot with a grumpy expression. 

“Not another word, Lover boy,” 

2. The one with an old flame.

“I wonder what Hotch wants,” She mused, her head resting on the arm of the seat, her eyes shut for the duration of the flight. Rossi had called them into the office startlingly early for a Friday, the entire team sleepy eyed and annoyed as they’d strolled onto the sixth floor. 

Yet the minute that they’d heard Hotch needed them, they’d soon perked up in interest, seeing as it was Aaron’s only appointed week off to see Beth in New York, and they had quickly jumped in to help with whatever it was he needed. 

“Penelope’s still waiting for NYPD to send her the autopsy reports for the previous victims,” Rossi said, him, Strauss, JJ and Alex playing a few rounds of Shithead with a peeling deck of cards because for once they had no paperwork to be looking over while they travelled. Bugsy had laid on the couch, the one Spencer usually commandeered, except this time he let her take the comfy seat, instead letting her legs drape over his lap as he read from his book, another two sat next to him for when he finished that one. 

“He sounded panicked. DEA thinks we might have a bad batch of something making its way through the club scene causing the deaths,” Strauss added, putting down two sets of three on top of JJ’s ace, “Aaron’s brother just happened to have been caught in the crossfire,”

“Men are almost twice as likely to die from drug overdoses than women, just last year there were forty-one thousand, five hundred and two cases.” Spencer said without lifting his head from his pages, his thumb caressing over Bugsy’s ankle bone, “The fact that the majority of the victims are women suggests it’s more than likely is a date rape drug that has been laced since they tend to be targeted towards female victims more often than males.” 

“Ecstasy can be made in pill, powder or liquid form so it really wouldn’t be too difficult to slip it into someone’s drink,” The girl mused, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she attempted to catch up on another half hour of sleep, “Or to convince people the drug they’re taking willingly is safe,”

“Even regular users might not know they're being dosed until it's too late,” JJ agreed, setting down a seven on top of Rossi’s two fives. 

“What about the two victims who were clean, Linda Heying and Eric Sullivan’s family claimed they never touched the stuff,” Alex questioned, as Morgan looked over the list of victims that they had been able to track down, despite the majority of the information waiting for them at New York. 

“Either the victims are good at hiding the truth or the UnSub is killing for another reason,” David said with a sigh, as Strauss set down the six of clubs, “We should take a closer look, see how they’re connected,”

“Well for now, let the princess get her beauty sleep,” Bugsy said, snuggling into the throw pillow Spencer had passed her as they’d sat down, “I’m feeling weird today,”

His head ripped from his book at that, the rest of the team going back to playing their cards, his hand skirting up to her calf to stroke her leg gently, “You okay?” 

She huffed, “Yeah, Penelope said it's because my Mercury is in Retrograde or something, I don’t know. I just feel strange,” She grumbled, resting a hand over her stomach, “Probably just coming on my period early,”

He frowned, moving her legs off his lap and standing up. Before she could ask where he was going, he stepped to the opposite end of the couch, picking her head up gently by the crook of her neck and sitting back down, resting her back onto his lap. 

His fingers were in her hair before she could say anything, scratching gently at her scalp the way he knew she turned to putty for, and she smiled, swearing blind she’d be purring if she could. 

“We’ll get you some breakfast when we land,” He murmured, and she snuggled her cheek into his thigh, his slender fingers massaging her skin kindly. 

“Thankyou, Spence,” She whispered back, all but slurring her words as sleep caught right back up to her, and before long she was drooling on his black trousers, the sight of it making him smile sweetly to himself. 

And it was for a moment like that he wondered what exact feeling he was waiting for in the first place. 

–

“Any updates?” Bugsy asked, as they entered the New York Police Department and saw Hotch waiting for them, his arms crossed in a casual shirt and jeans, clearly having had no intention of working this week, “How’s your brother?”

“A little shaken but then he never exactly made the best choices in life,” Hotch huffed, putting a hand on her back as she leaned in to give him a small hug because he seemed particularly stressed, “Emily always said you were bad, I’d take you over him any day,”

“Thanks,” She murmured into his shoulder, with a frown, “I think?”

He smiled, amused the way she had a knack for, though the worry in his mahogany eyes didn’t budge, and Spencer was all but a step behind her as the team filed into the building. 

“You guys have coffee?” Spencer asked, his eyes subconsciously trailing after Bugsy as she moved to talk to one of the detectives, and Hotch nodded, pointing him over to the small kitchenette at the back of the precinct. 

“Over there, I’ll get you guys set up with the lab reports now that you’re here. Autopsies came back for Linda and Eric,” Hotch said, and Spencer murmured in agreement, heading straight for the instant coffee and creamer, worrying about the girl who was already nose deep in a file by the time the machine had poured the first cup. 

He wondered whether there were any pharmacies nearby for anti-sickness tablets, or if she needed a heavy dose of water and sleep instead of the caffeine goodness he was whipping up for her, but then he knew she’d rather shrivell into a ball in the precinct bathroom than ask for a day off, would rather suffer in proud silence than make herself look weak. 

Bugsy remembered it happening in choppy intervals. One minute she was heading up the steps towards where Spencer stood patiently by the coffee machine, something already popping up as a point of interest in her overworked brain. Her head was down, muttering to herself the points of the victimology that conflicted with one another, when she felt herself slam right into a solid body, and she jumped back, steadying herself with an embarrassed expression. 

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” Her eyes snapped up to see a messy blonde sweep of hair, wide blue eyes she’d known ten years ago and a thick beard that happened to be the only thing new about him. Her gaze locked onto him, and she felt a fury she’d not thought about in over a decade rile up inside her, “Sean?” 

“Bugsy,” He breathed, the horror sweeping over his expression, a hand shooting up to slick his hair back nervously, “What are you- how are you-” 

She shoved him back with two firm hands, tossing the file onto the table beside her, and shoving at his chest again, his own hands coming up to defend himself lightly even though his expression read nothing but guilt. 

“Woah, woah, let’s just talk about this, I was just a dumb kid-”

“You left me, Sean. You left me in a foreign country alone with no boarding pass, no cell phone,” She snarled, and the sound of her tone rising turned a few heads, Spencer all but ditching the spoon into the sink when he saw her going nose to nose with some guy who looked purely terrified, “Your dumbass friends spent all my money on hookers, I’d still be in Italy if it wasn’t for the fact you graciously decided not to steal my bank card-” 

She shoved him again in between her growls, and it wasn’t until two hands came up to stop her did she realise Derek and Spencer had all but appeared behind her, the former’s arms wrapping around her waist to draw her back. 

“Woah, woah, talk to me, pretty girl. What’s with the aggression?” Derek asked, his eyes wide with concern as he looked between the youngest agent and their suspect. It seemed her volume had reached the other side of the room where Hotch had been talking with Strauss and Alex, and Spencer could practically see the steam coming out his ears as he whipped around to their trio. 

He could already hear the lecture coming, and the thought of it made him gulp.

“This is Sean,” She spat, and Derek and Spencer’s head snapped to the blonde man who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, “You know, the asshole that ditched me on another continent and stole my money,”

“I didn’t mean to steal your money, I thought you had it in your purse, I-I didn’t think to check before we left the hotel room,” He tried to interject, though the girl's glare intensified, unaware her boss's shoes were now thundering across the steps. 

“Where you left me to miss the flight I paid for, you inconsiderate prick-”

“You told me to leave you alone! You said you were sick of us waking you up-”

“I meant playing your music too loud, dumbass-”

“Well sorry, last time I checked I’m not a mind reader, Bugsy-”

“What in God’s name is going on here?” Hotch’s voice was a crack of lightning through the precinct, and the two of them shut up immediately, like two school children caught squabbling in the halls, Sean turning to his older brother with an exasperated expression. 

“Aaron, I swear, I don’t know what she’s doing here,” Sean pleaded, and Derek, Spencer and Bugsy turned to their boss in unison with bewildered faces. Hotch looked back at them, his own anger dissolving into utter, raw confusion. 

“Do you two know each other?” Hotch, Aaron, asked the girl in the middle, the other men all but positioned as bodyguards in the midst of their little spat, and he saw her cheeks hot with anger deflating as she drew a breath to answer. 

“Unfortunately,” She spat, scrutinising the familiar tone Sean had used when he’d said Aaron’s name, “Do you two know each other?” 

“He’s my brother,” The Hotchner’s replied in unison, their tone almost identical and she felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.

Bugsy felt her face drop, her eyes scanning between them for any signs of a lie, except all she found were the tiny details of their face that seemed to half match. Like their cheekbones, and the crease between their brows, the shape of their lips. 

Her face blanked, gobsmacked silence passing between the five of them as she digested exactly what that statement ment. 

Sean, her Sean, the Sean she’d been sleeping with on and off for six months straight, who used to make her tea way too milky and without sugar the way she hated it, but would bring it to her in bed and stroke her back when they were finished, the Sean who once tried to ask her to be his girlfriend when he was stoned and she’d laughed at him and snatched the blunt away, told him to get a hold of himself because that was the exact opposite of how friends with benefits worked. 

Sean, who she had trusted to keep her safe, who’d ditched her naked in a hotel room in a foreign country and made her feel stupid for ever believing a word a man said.  

She stuttered for a response, a wide eyes mix of terror and confusion and repulsion washing over her in stages. 

“I need-” She swallowed thickly, her mouth drier than sandpaper, gently pushing Derek’s arm from around her waist, “I think I need a walk- a walk sounds good- yeah-”

Rossi paced over to the five of them, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. He almost paused at the wall of awkward tension around the group, each participant seeming stuck for the right thing to say, the entire situation so bizarre that Spencer debated faking a migraine to get him and her out of the room for some air. 

“Hotch,” Both of the men turned to look at him, and the sight of it made Bugsy shudder, feeling almost completely out of her own body at the thought of her nude body on top of Sean’s because now all she could see was Aaron in his place, “Six new bodies found in a nightclub-”

“I’ll go!” She jumped, all but bolting past the men, trying her hardest not to touch either of them because her skin crawled with a sickening uncanny valley looking between the brothers, “I’ll go inspect the crime scene,” 

And no one stopped her, because they’d seen her be all manner of strange before, but never quite like that. Aaron nodded his head to Morgan, and the man took it as a sign to follow her. He quickly obeyed, hot on the girl's heels as she kept her head down with an odd, freaked out expression on her face like she was about to throw up and scream at the same time. 

Which left Sean alone as Spencer and Aaron whirled around on him, similar looks of annoyance on their face as the younger agent looked the man head to toe. 

He was handsome, handsome in a rugged way like he was used to bar fights and late nights and drinking until three am with pretty ladies like her. He was built wide like Aaron, his shoulders broad and muscles stocky, a few tattoos dotted around his arms that only added to his rough looking appeal, and Spencer wondered if she’d always liked the bad boys, wondered if he was an outlier in her dating history. 

Except they weren’t dating, not yet at least. 

“So I take it she’s one of your agents,” Sean said, wringing his hands together in anxiety as the two taller men looked down at him, equally unimpressed.

Though, Spencer hated to admit, his was more green faced jealousy than anything else. 

“Agent Prentiss is one of the best,” Reid corrected, his tone cold and stern, and Sean visibly shrunk in on himself, looking to his big brother for help, only he found Aaron was just as annoyed, glaring down at him. 

“You have some more explaining to do, Sean,” His brother snapped, and the two men diverted him into one of the interrogation rooms, Spencer’s jaw clenched so hard he felt his temples ache, “Or next time I’m not stopping her from handing your ass to you, and believe me when I say you’ll wish you’d told me sooner,”

Sean gulped, all too aware of the way eighteen year old Bugsy had never backed down from a fight, when men twice her age shoved her in clubs or girls bitched at her for dancing too close to their boyfriends. He didn’t imagine she was any different at twenty eight, except this time she was trained and licensed to handle a gun. 

The door slammed behind them, and Aaron pushed his little brother into the seat with a firm hand, the sight of his unit chief just as protective over her as he was making Spencer bite back glee. The image of Bugsy laying into the guy was burned into his memory, eidetic or not, and it seemed to be the only thing that stopped him blowing his top as Sean opened his mouth to explain what had happened between him and the younger Prentiss woman. 

–

“What did you do, Thane?” Sean’s voice crackled over the feed, the wire on his chest brushing against his shirt as he paced in the wine cellar. Aaron, Morgan, Spencer and Bugsy sat in the van, listening to the conversation through shared headphones, Spencer and Bugsy’s heads pressed together as they followed the voices as best as they could, waiting for a confession or anything they could tie to the victims' gory deaths. 

“I spiked the wine, you idiot,” Sean’s boss, Thane, snapped, his breathing laboured and Bugsy took a shot in the dark to say he was pacing, worrying now that there was concrete evidence linking his date rape drug to the deaths of atleast nine people so far, “Oh, God. Oh, god, Jim is going to kill me.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Sean seethed, his patience wearing thin as the man all but confessed to killing his girlfriend. 

“For a laugh, I thought it was X. Girl’s love that crap,” Thane replied, his voice louder as Sean stepped closer to him, and she exchanged a look with Aaron.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t X, was it?” The younger Hotchner barked, and she quickly let go of the headphones to grab a kevlar and her gun. 

“He’s going off track, Aaron, he’d not going to keep his cool much longer,” She said, and Spencer’s eyes trailed up to her face, her brow furrowed as Aaron moved to slip his own bulletproof over his head, adjusting the straps at his side. 

“Tell SWAT to stand by, we’re going in to support, but we may need back up,” Aaron ordered, unholstering his gun and switching the trigger off safety, “You two stay here and see if Thane says any more about the wine,”

She drew her gun to her side just as he did, and Spencer made a move to stop her, even just to check where her head was at because he knew she had this tendency of throwing herself in harms way and asking questions later. He selfishly worried what that upset look in her eyes meant, like she loathed that Sean was in danger as much as she loathed him. 

But he wasn’t quite fast enough, because by the time he’d reached a hand out for hers to ask if she was feeling alright, she had slid the door to the van open, hopping out onto the tarmac as Aaron shadowed her. 

And something ugly and envious reared its head in Spencer’s gut as the doors slammed, so much so that his jaw feathered and he took a deep breath out, his lips pressing into a thin line.

The two agents moved as one, their footsteps pounding over the linoleum floor of the night club. They swept to the back of the building, where the door to the stock room was, and it became apparent almost immediately from the grunting and shuffling the other side of the door that the two men were much closer to brawling than they’d guessed. 

“FBI, drop your weapon!” Bugsy called, bracing herself as she felt Aaron’s domineering figure at her shoulder. She raised her leg to kick the door in, and it swung on its hinges, smacking into the rack of beer. They caught the two men in the middle of a fist fight, Sean with a split lip, Thane with a gash on his forehead, his head locked under the younger man’s arm with a deathly grip.

She holstered her gun, seeing that neither of them were carrying, and moved forward to break the two of them up.

“Alright, Sean- Sean, that’s enough,” She scolded, her fingers prying his muscled arm off his boss’s trachea, and Sean took a second to realise it was disappointment in her face, not the white hot anger it had been not even a few hours before, before he let the man go, some colour returning to his bluing lips.

“He killed Linda,” The blonde Hotchner said softly, and something wavered in her eyes, something close to pity, and she nodded at him while biting her cheek hard. Aaron holstered his gun, surging forward to grab Thane with rough hands as he fought against the taller man’s grip. “She was sober, she’d gotten clean and he killed her,” 

“I know,” Bugsy said lamentingly, and against her better judgement she patted his shoulder kindly, more kindly than he probably deserved, and the thought of it made Sean’s baby blue eyes turn away in sorrow. 

Before she could say anything else, Thane wretched his hand out of Hotch’s grip, grabbing for the sharp box cutter and lunging right for Bugsy where she turned away from him. 

Sean’s expression morphed into fear for a moment, grabbing for her to yank her out of reach, but it was too late. She felt the slash across the back of her arm, where her kevlar couldn’t cover up, and she yawped in pain the way a dog sounds when its tail gets crushed. Turning towards the source of the danger, Sean’s hand weaved around her waist to tug her backwards as Aaron scrambled to grab the suspect. 

Thane’s hand gripped the blade and slashed down again, across her cheek and only inches away from her eye, her hands too late to grab his wrists to stop his advances. By the time he drew back to swipe for her again Aaron had already tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the wine soaked floor and fumbling for his cuffs. 

“We have an agent injured and needing medical, repeat, medical unit required on scene,” Spencer was out of his seat before Hotch could even finish his sentence, forgoing his own vest as he darted from the van, his heart racing at the sound of the scuffle echoing through Sean’s wire, and he felt his chest seizing at just what kind of a state she’d be in when he saw her. 

She was the only other agent on the scene. That call had to be made for her, the voice in his gut told him, but the twisted part of him hoped that it was someone else, anyone else, that had gotten hurt, because he might just throw a punch of his own at Thane or Sean or maybe even both of them if she had so much as a single hair misplaced. 

Spencer had only just about reached the bar area when the four of them emerged from the stock room, Thane in cuffs, looking rattled and aggravated. Spencer let himself take a long, hard look at the man with a glare that soon made him cower away, though he found little luck elsewhere as Hotch’s hands gripped him so tight Spencer thought he might be trying to strangle him through his arms. 

But that wasn’t who he was looking for. And there, trailing behind his unit chief sheepishly, with Sean’s hand on her back as he watched her carefully, his eyes worriedly darting over her skin when he saw how fast the blood was pouring from the laceration on the apple of her cheek, was Bugsy. Her expression was shaken, no doubt from nearly having her corneas slashed open had Sean not pulled her away even a second earlier, and she seemed in some sort of a daze, until she spotted the sweater vest she’d shoved in the wash about a hundred times, and two supple hands reached for her shoulders, snapping her attention out of her head. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, all but ignoring Sean as the man went to flag down medical, his own appearance dishevelled and stunned, and it irked Spencer something childish when her head snapped to the blonde, watching him head for the paramedics. 

“I’m okay, Spence, it’s just a superficial wound,” She said as a reflex, meeting his eyes finally. But she simpered when she saw just how terrified he seemed, a warm palm raising to cup his face affectionately, “He just nicked the skin, that’s all. It’s not as bad as it looks,” 

Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Her face stung like a bitch, but the feeling of her cheek dribbling with the ichor was worse than the actual pain, and made her feel queasy more than anything. 

He went to say something else, or perhaps even gently caress the clean side of her face with his own loving gesture, but he was quickly interrupted by the medical team all but grabbing Bugsy out of his grip and assessing her themselves. 

“It’s probably best if you come take a seat, Agent Prentiss,” The woman said, pointing to where Sean sat on the back of the ambulance getting his nose checked over, “We’ll be over with some stitches and glue,” 

And Spencer made a move to follow the two of them, only to be stopped by Hotch, who called his name with that direct tone he took when he was worried.

“Reid, I need you and Morgan to interview Thane about where he got the drugs he used to spike the wine,” Aaron ordered, even though he seemed to watch the girl go just as bothered as the younger agent, and Spencer seemed conflicted between rebelling against his boss’s instructions or keeping to his track record of following them to a tea. 

He paused for a second, his gaze flicking to the girl who sat with her old flame, Sean’s eyes roving over her head to toe worriedly, and he looked back to Aaron, “But-”

“Now, Reid. She’s going to be fine.” 

And Spencer was forced to listen, even if his face burned with annoyance at the sight of the man watching her so tentatively. 

–

“Would you quit fidgeting, the medic said it was a surface wound,” Bugsy snipped, feeling the ocean hues burning a hole into the side of her head. She dusted her knees off of invisible dirt, braving a look up at her ex-fling where she was met with a wall of guilt.

And it was like for a split second she remembered all the mornings she’d wake up to him twirling the tips of her hair between his fingers, or when he’d shake his head whenever he���d look over her shoulder at her lab reports she’d be writing and make a passing comment on how a hot girl like her could have brains and looks. 

Or how he could be kind to her, genuinely sweet when he wanted to be, when they toed a weird line between friends with benefits and something a little more, because at his core she knew he was a good guy, he was just incredibly dumb for an eighteen year old. 

“Listen, Bug,” Sean sighed, looking down at the ground where they were perched on the back on the ambulance, Bugsy’s face stitched up so tight she hoped it wouldn’t scar very deeply, “I really am sorry for how I treated you,” 

His voice shook with something remorseful, and she let her eyes cast over his face that had grown even more handsome in the ten years since she saw him. With the good memories came the bad ones in equal measure, and the arguments over stupid shit like leaving cupboard doors open and playing music late at night and the time he forgot to feed her gerbil for two days when she was out of town washed back to shore from the deepest crevices of her mind. 

She’d been with men after him, had flings and meaningless kisses with boys who’d treated her much less kindly than he had. And when she thought about it, the anger and resentment she’d felt when she thought about those few days she spent lost in Italy stemmed from the fact she’d been forced to confront what she’d always feared since she was little. 

That Bugsy was alone in the world, forgettable, someone you could leave behind and sleep soundly. 

But when she thought of that now, the first face she pictured was Spencer, and how he would tell her to knock it off if she ever said that out loud, because he would never leave her, in a foreign country or even at a gas station if she needed to get fuel. He always walked up to the pump with her because he knew exactly how many women got kidnapped in places like that every year, he'd told her so already. 

And she knew the person she was when she could have loved Sean, the person who was reminded just how easy it was to leave her behind, was gone. In its place was the girl who Spencer loved like it was as easy as breathing. And the thought of it made her feel just that little bit less bitter towards the blonde man who fiddled with his rough, bloodied hands. 

“I was a dumb kid, I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of,” He swallowed heavily, his frown looking strikingly similar to Aaron's as he did, but she would never remind him, “But I did always wonder whether I’d see your name in the news curing some disease I could never pronounce or being the first person to learn like every single language there is,” He smiled sadly, and the old her knew him just well enough to know he was being honest, because his nose turned red whenever he lied. 

The thought of it made her lips curve up, despite how annoyed she’d been to see him again, and there was something bashful about the way the slid a hand into his to give it a quick squeeze.

“We were eighteen, Sean. No one has themselves figured out at eighteen,” She said earnestly, her head dipping to meet his ashamed gaze.

He shook his head, “You deserved so much better than I could ever give you, we both knew that,” He pulled his hand away, and her expression contorted into confusion, “It’s probably why you're with that doctor, right? Aaron said he’s like a whizz kid,”

“He’s not-We’re-” She sighed, running a hand over where the EMTs had stitched the gash on the back of her arm, “It’s complicated,”

“Complicated like we were complicated?” He asked, her fingertip tracing every single nook where they had looped the suture through her skin. 

She smiled to herself and looked over at him, something weighty like closure passing between the two of him as he watched her take his tired face in, knowing they were nothing more than just passing ships in the night now. 

“You meant something to me once, Sean, no matter how much we drove each other up the wall,” She snickered, and something like an exhausted chuckle matched her, “But it’s different with him. It’s like everything I do means something to the world when I’m with him, you know?” 

Sean took in the wistful look in her eyes, the girl he’d known who had only gotten stronger, scrappier, wittier with age, and he thought he’d be lucky to ever get someone like her again.

“I hope I do,” He said, and she knocked her shoulder into his to dispel the bad memories of two teenagers figuring out what feelings and kisses and sex meant in the messiest of ways. 

“Do me a favour?” Sean hummed at her, and she looked surprisingly like herself again when she smiled at him wryly, “Call Aaron more. It’s difficult being the only disappointment child in his life,” 

Sean barked a laugh at her words, and she smiled into her lap. Who’d have thought closure would be so healing. 

–

She felt eyes on her even as she tried to nap on the jet, having returned back to their original position on the couch, her head on Spencer’s lap. She had a sixth sense to who it would be, the Spider Sense they’d been calling it despite the fact Spencer tried to tell her it was mere intuition, she glanced up to where something melancholic swirled inside his forest gaze, already watching over her despite his book being open in his lap. 

She hadn’t even opened her mouth to speak before his obscenely large hand had sneaked under her jawline, tilting her face up so he could take a better look at the messy cut. 

“Have they given you anything for the pain?” Spencer said quietly, because the other’s were already trying to sleep, and she blanked for a moment, before her hand came up to snake around his wrist gently. 

“They gave me Naproxen for two days. Spence, I’m fine, really,” 

His teeth ground together, his other hand placing his book down beside him and moving to smooth the back of her hair, the sealed wound staring daggers at him as his eyes darted over the rest of her face, just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything. 

He nodded to himself, as if to conclude his consultation and his thumb stroked down the curve of her jaw, his head whipping up to quickly make sure no one else was watching.

“What, uh,” Spencer cleared his throat nervously, her expectant eyes looking up at him, “What were you and Sean talking about?”

Her brow quirked in confusion, and it wasn’t until she felt his delicate strokes hesitate that she realised he seemed on edge, “Why?”

“N-No reason, I just was wondering, you looked like you were-” He coughed again, even though there was nothing tickling his windpipe, nothing except embarrassment, because he’d never thought he’d be the envious type. 

He braved a look at her again, worried she would be annoyed with his crass and intrusive questions, only to see her smiling at him wickedly. 

“We were what?” She asked, and Spencer went so quiet he could have heard a mouse knitting if he tried, his cheeks flushing with raspberry red heat, “Are you jealous, Spencer?” 

He shook his head fast, unable to formulate anything that wasn’t a stammer, and she sat up in her seat, throwing her legs onto the ground so she could scooch up into his side. 

“Because if you were, you know I’d find that wildly attractive right?” She murmured, his cheeks burning an even hotter shade, the sight of it all but a bone to a hound to Bugsy who loved teasing him. She snickered, leaning in close to his vermillion ear, and leaving a tiny kiss on his clenched jaw, “Don’t worry, Wonder Boy. He knows I’m all yours,” 

3. The one with the day of the dead.

“Thankyou, thankyou, my helpful little mice,” Penelope chirped as the three of them stepped into her apartment, their arms filled with shopping bags, “Set them down on the counter, I’ll unpack them later,” 

“Wow,” Bugsy gawped at the altar stood in the corner of the woman’s living room, an assortment of sweets and tissue paper flowers decorating the layers, “Oh it’s so pretty, they’re going to love it. We spent a Summer in Mexico when Mom was having talks with their President, but we moved out before October rolled around so I never got to see a Día de los Muertos,” 

Penny smiled, though she quickly looked around the rest of her apartment that had yet to be decorated, “There’s still a lot to do before the party next week and,” She huffed, the bags taking up the entirety of her kitchen table as Bugsy frowned at her, “I’m scared. I’ve never had the whole team here before,” 

“Relax, Pen, I can help you set up,” The younger woman reassured, helping unload the groceries that needed to go in the fridge as Spencer helped her carry the larger items. 

Penelope perked up watching her guests move towards the cooler, a devilish smirk twitching at her lips, “Hey, while you guys are there, can you see if I have enough hot sauce for the party?”

“Sure,” They replied in synchrony, Bugsy putting the milk and soda in the side drawers as Spencer shelved away some of the meat. They both looked at the top row, where some kind of jalapeno salsa was resting next to a jar of fake eyeballs, and the flicked a casual glance at the woman who was pouring vials of red viscous liquid made to look like blood down her cheeks for a Penelope version of a practical joke.

Bugsy blinked once, not quite surprised as she would have thought seeing Penelope attempting to scare them with something they’d seen a thousand times over for real. 

“Now, are the eyeballs marinating in anything spicy or is it just like a pickled onion type of thing because all you seem to have is the jalapeno sauce,” She said, and Penelope deflated at her bored tone, looking at the two agents in discontent. 

“You guys didn’t even flinch,” She said sadly, her dark eyes flicking between them, “My poor babies, what has the world done to you?” 

Bugsy smiled, shutting the fridge door and handing the bubbly woman a leaf of tissue paper. 

“JJ’s right, I told her I wanted to go scary this Halloween and she just laughed at me, and said that I don’t have a scary side,” Penelope whined, and Bugsy giggled. 

“Sorry, babygirl, you wouldn’t be Penelope Garcia if you were capable of scary,” She teased, waltzing around the kitchen to put away the rest of the shopping, even as the woman tried to shoo her away from helping, “I’ve seen puppies scarier than you, Pen,” 

“If it helps, you probably do,” Spencer interjected, helping Bugsy shelve something on one of the higher cabinets, his long arms weaselling over her own as he reached past her, “The building blocks of the human personality are complex, varied and multi-faceted. It’s essential to one’s mental health to want to express these hidden personalities and it’s just a fact of nature that everybody has one,”

“Everybody?” Penelope asked, ignoring the way the two of them bumbled around her kitchen, handing things between one another the way she imagined them putting away the groceries in their own kitchen, like they worked just as well in the home as they did in the field. Dare she say it, like a couple who had been married and knew each other's routines for years. “Even the two of you?” 

“Oh, absolutely, yeah,” Spencer agreed, and Bugsy flicked a smirk up at him as Pen turned to her expectantly.

"I mean, you can't tell me Bitch-Slapping our boss or fist fighting with my sister was exactly usual behaviour for me," She pointed out, and the two of them nodded in agreement, although they wouldn't have exactly called it out of character for her.

“Okay, okay, I want to see it. I want to see Dr Spencer Reid’s hidden personality,” Penelope said, a smile growing as thick and fast as a weed when he seemed thrown off by her request, and it only took one look at the younger Prentiss to know she wanted front row just as badly. 

“R-right here? Like right now you want to see it?” He stammered, all too aware of Bugsy’s amused lashes batting up at him, the innocent expression she knew made it difficult for him to say no to, and he wondered for a second if she understood the exact amount of control she had over him when she wanted to. 

“I wanna see this hidden personality, pretty boy,” She smiled with her teeth, and he felt his hands turn jittery in embarrassment. 

“Okay, alright,” Spencer shook his arms out, clearing his throat with a growling sort of husk that made her raise her brows, and in a single blink he’d locked stern eyes with her, pointing to her with a completely un-Spencer-like stance; completely rose to his full height, confident and domineering, “I know what you’re thinking,”

She really hoped he didn’t. Because what she was really thinking was just how hot he sounded with that deep sort of timbre, that cocksure attitude. 

“You’re thinking ‘Did that guy just fire five shots or did that guy just fire six shots?’” He went on, his tone deadly serious, as her lips parted in surprise, and what had started out as a game turned into some wildly lewd thoughts fast, “You’re going to have to ask yourself a question; Do you feel lucky, pun-k,”

She swallowed haughtily, as he squeezed his eyes shut and when he looked at her again he was entirely puppy like the way he usually looked, none the wiser to the way her stomach had coiled in want. 

“That was Clint Eastwood from Dirty Harry,” He explained, looking to Penelope because he had no idea what that strange look on Bugsy’s face was, only to see his techy friend just as in awe, “I mean I know it’s not as effective as my dominant personality, but I really think it’s there-”

Penelope’s phone sprung to life with a call from Hotch and she quickly spluttered an excuse that they needed to leave right away, grabbing for her keys and heading for the door. 

Spencer made a move to follow her, only to feel a hand grab his shirt and turn him right back around, Bugsy still staring at him with that look in her eye, like she’d had too much caffeine or been told there was a million dollars cash waiting for them at home.

“Is everything okay-”

“Is Clint Eastwood strictly a party trick or would I be able to have him on request, maybe?” She said, her hands oddly tight as they grabbed at his soft stomach, and it was like he heard the click in his brain when he realised what she meant. 

“R-request, I guess,” He stumbled for composure, finding his footing when he felt her palms were clammy, “You got a thing for cops?” 

“Just the one, I guess,” She said with a clenched jaw, and he laughed though it sounded more like a choke, as she darted right behind Penelope to avoid suspicion. 

–

By the time the party rolled around, Penelope had decked her apartment out to the nines, marigolds and tissue garlands and lights and food of all sorts spread out across the altar, a mix of alcohol and juices available in pitchers, because Penelope was nothing if not a people pleaser. 

The doorbell rang right as Alex and Bugsy poured themselves some margarita, complete with the eyeball ice cubes ofcourse, and Penelope fussed in her beautiful dress, muttering under her breath the way she did when she was nervous. 

“What, what, what,” She murmured, her blonde curls bouncing with her steps as she reached for the door, “I thought you said you couldn’t come!” 

Bugsy’s head whipped to the door, Aaron looking much more casual than they were used to seeing him as he entered the decorated home, his colleagues all dressed smartly and in some shade of black. 

“Jack got a last minute sleepover invitation so I hope it’s okay,” He said, a bottle of rosé in his hand he’d brought as a contribution. 

“Ofcourse, ofcourse,” Penelope sang, leading him over to the altar where everyone stood with their offerings, sipping on their glasses of liquor, “Okay, everybody, I guess it’s time to start, here you go sir,”

She handed him a freshly poured glass of wine, chilled courtesy of the eyeball, and Aaron thanked her kindly, taking a generous sip to catch up with the others. 

“I want to thank everybody for doing this with me, and our altar’s burning, and I just feel so blessed to have you all here,” Penelope started with a grateful smile on her painted lips, a handful of old photos between her fingertips, “I will start, um, this is my mom and dad,” She said, nostalgia idling her tone as she gently placed down a worn picture of a teen couple holding a beautiful, blonde girl, eyes bigger than moons and full of curiosity, just how Bugsy would have imagined Penny as a baby, “I miss them. And this is my cat, Simba with his usual bowl of soda pop. He was a weird cat,”  

The team chuckled, looking at the enormous ginger Tom that lapped at the bubbly liquid. Bugsy took a sip of her drink as JJ took a step forward with a smile, her own photo in hand. 

“This is my sister, Roselyn. Ros.” JJ said, placing down a photo of a fifteen year old with identical eyes and nose to her, sitting it next to a small statue of the eiffel tower, “She always dreamed she’d live is Paris so um,” She swallowed, looking at her sister laying in the grass of their childhood home, something girlish in her gaze, “It didn’t happen but I thought this would bring her some happiness,”

They took it in turns bringing their offerings and pictures: David bringing some Cubs tickets for a soldier he had lost in Vietnam, Alex bringing a crossword for her mother, Spencer sliding down a picture of Maeve silently, alongside a cut out picture of Nikola Tesla, Morgan bringing his father, Hitch putting down the picture of Haley he kept in his wallet. 

Which left them all to turn to the youngest agent, who seemed flustered.

“So, I fortunately have not lost anyone properly thus far, so bare with me here guys,” She said fishing out an old scrapbook photo of her as a seven year old, a small orange snake wrapped around the length of her arm, twenty two year old Emily standing right behind her, the pair of them with beaming smiles as the snake seemingly poked its tongue out for the camera. 

Penelope clutched her chest in horror, “Is that a-”

“This is Tigger, the corn snake Emily gave to me when she left home,” She explained, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the million dollar grin she had in the photo, three of her front teeth missing sweetly, “I had him until I was about twelve before he kicked the serpent bucket, but he was cute for a slithery little guy,” 

She drew another photo, an ultrasound showing two tiny embryos and she put it beside the picture of Tigger, and the group drew a shared breath. 

“Bug, I never knew you were…” Spencer started, his stomach flipping when he saw the outline of the foetuses, only for the girl’s eyes to widen. 

“No! No, it’s not like that, this is um,” She cleared her throat awkwardly, scratching the back of her hand with a guilty look, “This is the twin I absorbed in the womb,” She said, and she felt the rest of her team gawking at her without having to look, “I guess I’d like to say, uh, I’m sorry pal. It was nice while it lasted, I hope you can forgive me,” 

“You’re being serious?” Morgan asked, gawping at the girl, right as Hotch broke out into disbelieving snickers, probably spurred on by the wine, and Alex was quick to join him, her hand over her mouth.

Bugsy turned to him with a ‘duh’ kind of look on her face, “Oh, 100% serious, yeah,” 

“Is that why you’re a little…” Rossi started, only he found himself stuck for words when she looked at him betrayed. 

“A little, what?” She asked, looking to JJ who cracked into a chuckle, putting her head in her palm.

“What he means is you have a big personality,” Alex said, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulder and giving her a motherly squeeze, hoping they hadn’t offended her, “And we wouldn’t change it for the world,”

“I should hope so, she got a double helping.” Morgan cackled, and Bugsy smacked his arm with a smile. 

“Every time I think I know everything about you, you come out with something new,” Penelope said, her own snickering laugh meeting the girl’s ears, “You’re like Jason Bourne,” 

“God help us if there had been two of you, Prentiss,” David added, patting the girl on the head as they laughed, and Penelope raised a toast to their altar, the rest of the team doing the same before they sipped out their cups and allowed themselves to enjoy the rest of the party. 

–

“Oh, I have something for you!” Bugsy said, springing to her feet and almost tripping over Sergio who had curled up by her legs. 

She’d cut herself off after her third, and by the time midnight rolled around she’d almost completely sobered up enough to the point her and Alex had been playing hangman except with only Old English words.

Her and Spencer had gotten home twenty minutes later, the two of them exhausted from an evening well spent, the melancholy happiness in the room draining them to the point Bugsy had immediately changed into her pyjamas when she got into the house.

Her pyjamas being Spencer’s boxers and one of his shirts since he’d inadvertently been hiding all of the underwear-top combinations she’d gotten from other flings that she’d brought when she moved into his. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” He said earnestly, and she simply waved his humble attitude off, the two of them sat on the sofa in their nightwear, flicking through the late night TV. 

He smiled, watching her bustle into her room and root around her closet, before she emerged with a terracotta coloured pot of lilac flowers, whirling on her heel to head for him. 

“What’s this?” Spencer asked, standing to meet her and Bugsy simpered, because she’d felt silly for buying them in the first place. Perhaps it was some left over guilt considering she’d spent the majority of Maeve’s existence in her life hating the girl, or atleast hating what she had that Bugsy thought she could never be privy to. Perhaps it was because all things considered she wanted Spencer to know that it was okay for him to mourn, because she’d never force him to hurry up his process when he’d been there for every second of hers. 

She handed him the potted plant, the small purple petals in the shape of half moons lighting up at him, and his mind raced as to what species they were since he’d certainly never seen them around the East Coast before.

“Scaevola aemula,” She said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt around her waist as she spoke because his eyes were unnervingly doe-like when he looked at her in the dark lamp light, “It’s called the fairy fan flower. I thought-"

She paused, her expression morphing into embarrassment, "Wait, this is so stupid, I’ll send them back,” She shook her head, the worry overtaking the rational part of her as she grabbed for the pot to stash it back in her room, but he held it out of her reach, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body against his hip, as the other stretched out to keep her from snatching back the plant. 

“Tell me. What?” He said, his lips stretching into a devious smile to see her so shy suddenly, and she buried her face into her hands as he watched her, “I'm not going to think it's stupid. Why did you get me these?”

“They’re not for you- well, they are, but I just thought,” She stumbled over her sentences, her heart thumping that this was entirely the wrong move, that she was poking at an open wound no matter how caring she was being. Clearing her throat, she let her forehead thump onto his shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut as she spoke, “I thought you could keep it so that you can think of Maeve every time you water it, since Maeve was the name of the fairy queen,” 

He was quiet. God, why was he so quiet? Her breath was thick as molasses as they sat in the silence for a second. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when two of his fingers ran delicately beneath her chin, tilting her head up enough that he could see her face and she drew a sigh of relief when she saw he didn’t seem angry or hurt at all. 

His eyes were soft as pools of honey as he looked at her, his brows stirring into a sad-happy mix. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” She whispered, their faces so close they were sharing breath, and he shook his head, his fingers never leaving her skin where they forced her to stay near, gave her no choice but to keep her looking at him. She didn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Everything pretty about him was dialled to a thousand whenever she got close, and his thick lashes blinked at her like he was seeing a mirage, a daydream. 

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, Bug,” Spencer murmured back to her, his every word fanning over the bridge of her nose, and she sighed in content, melting back into his side as he pulled her into a hug, his own face burying into the crook of her neck, “Thankyou,” 

She smiled and hummed in happiness, wrapping her arms around his slender waist and drawing him so close she got a whiff of his shampoo. 

“I have a bigger pot in my room, if you like, then we can keep it in the kitchen sill, away from the boys,” She offered, beaming at him when he stroked over the back of her hair affectionately. She hopped out of the embrace, “I’ll go get it for you-”

“You’ve done enough, Bug,” Spencer reminded, something grateful in his tone as she paused and waited for whatever he was going to say, “I’ll go get the pot, you go decide what movie we should watch,”

“You’re sure?” Bugsy asked, her brows furrowed as she checked for signs of an escape in his movements. But he just smiled back at her tiredly, the purple flowers his accomplice as she gave in and headed back towards the sofa, “It’s by my dresser, where my paper bin used to be,”

He set the gift on the kitchen table, the lilac hues brightening up the kitchen already like they just knew how touched Spencer felt to have received them, like there really was some kind of fairy magic burrowed into the soil as they watched the two of them dance around one another, heading to opposite ends of the apartment with lingering glances and bashful smiles.

Spencer thought his chest couldn’t swell any bigger in size, his heart so inevitably full of her, it left room for no one else, not even Maeve, which was the first time he’d brought himself to think that in months. 

+1 The one with the book.

He opened the door to her bedroom, her duvet tossed everywhere because it was a rare occasion she made her bed before they left for work, her clothes strewn about the floor in the general direction of the bathroom, like she’d stripped on the way there, and the thought of it made his stomach seize with a heat, the idea of her undressing little more than a wall away from him knocking his every thought from his head.

The vase. He needed a bigger vase.

Quickly collecting her clothes up and shoving them into her laundry basket for her, he diverted his attention to her dresser, where the slightly roomier pot sat on the floor, a towel underneath it to catch any water remnants and he stepped over her various note pads and books she’d clearly tossed off the bed before she went to sleep. 

He tried to ignore them, he really did, but his scratching urge to keep things tidy for her wrestled with his conscience that said to leave her stuff alone. Before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself organising them into a neat pile in his hands and placing them on top of her dresser where one of her books had made it safely, or at least safe enough she wouldn’t trip over it. 

His gaze dropped to the book already on there, its leather cover entirely melting into the background of the dark chestnut dresser, yet it stared daggers up at him like it had been waiting to be noticed.

Great Expectations, Charles Dickens.

The book looked old enough to be easily from original 1900s, at least one of the first few hundred published. It was scuffed a little on the edges, the black lettering of the printed title choppy in places where it had been handled recklessly, and the leaves of paper were atom thin. The smell of dust and paper clouded his nose when he picked it up delicately.

Opening the front cover curiously to see its printed date, he was stopped in his tracks to see a little post it note on the title page, covering Mr Dickens’ name with a scrawled handwriting he’d known for six years. 

Six whole years. Nearly seven. He felt like he’d known her his whole life, when in startling reality he’d not even known her a third of it. 

And there it was, where he was expecting a list of notes or her thoughts on how David Copperfield had much more likeable characters, anything that she’d thought important enough to scratch down on the front page, instead was his name. 

Spencer,

He felt his breath catch the second he read it, contemplated slamming the book shut right then and there because this felt illicit to read whatever it was she’d scribbled out just for him even if it was dedicated to the stupid man who’d been asking her to wait on his stupid head and stupider heart to align so he could give her exactly everything she deserved. 

His gaze snapped away from the page, that voice in his head telling him this was wrong, that if she’d wanted him to see that book she would have given it to him already. And yet, like it did most days, the beating organ in his chest writhed in annoyance that he’d looked away, that he’d followed the rules one too many times for its liking. He bit his cheek, the two halves of himself arguing amongst themselves. 

After a second of debating, his eyes fell slowly to the note, a creeping guilt skirting down his spine that he was reading something private. How could something be private and yet meant for him? His brain scoffed at the dichotomy of it all, while his chest lurched when he caught a glimpse of more of her writing. 

‘Spencer,’ His heart trembled almost as much as his hand as he traced the writing with his forefinger, imagining her writing it out in a little ball point pen, her body slumped over the book with every intent of having him read her little note. He imaged her breath fanning across the page, her hand warm as her knuckles stroked over the paper, and it felt so much more intimate than a little post-it when he thought of her like that, ‘By the time you’re reading this I’ll be back home from London and we’ll probably be in your apartment doing that stupid thing we do when we pretend like I haven’t missed you more than anything in the whole world while I’ve been here in England,’

She wrote this in London, probably in that tiny apartment her and Emily had rented on a short lease, the one she’d said smelled like mildew and dust and wet wood but had a gorgeous view of Hyde Park when she looked out her bedroom window. 

She’d written it months ago, so why hadn’t she given it to him?

‘I miss you every day. You’re all I think about when I go for a run, and I think sometimes you’d really like it here. I’ve mapped out all the bookshops I’ve found and all the places that do really good coffee if you ever did want to visit England, but I think I’d be happy with you even if we lived in a little ditch on the side of the road like two drowning rats,’

His chest seized, tears lining his lashes when he thought about that day she’d yanked him into a hug the second she saw him, when he’d been too busy thinking about Maeve and burying whatever he felt for Bugsy entirely behind him. 

You should have called, Bug. He’d said, like his eidetic memory wanted to twist the knife in just that bit deeper, and he didn’t need his freaky brain to remember how her face had fallen when he’d said it like that. Like he didn’t even want to see her. 

He hated himself. He hated himself more than she’d ever had. Even if she had more rights than anyone to despise his selfish guts. 

‘Anyway, I know Dickens isn’t your favourite or anything, but I got you this because I know you like the original copies and because it made me think of you (but then again, what doesn’t?). 

I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. And so I guess that means I’ll love you until the life part stops too. 

All my heart,

Bug.’

He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he finished the note, digesting every single word the average speed instead of his usual method of inhaling the letters faster than should be possible, like he wanted to savour every single one because they’d come from her. 

He heard her saying every single one, the thought striking him like someone had cracked him across the face with a paddle. She’d wanted to say all of this when she was in London, when he’d been too busy for her, when he’d been too busy with Maeve. 

I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. 

“Did you find it?” Her voice called from the other room, no doubt where she was settling down to flick the movie on, her heart so delicate and gracious because she was still waiting for him. 

Even now, even when she was in his clothes and under the blanket she’d brought from her apartment for them to use on movie nights because it got cold too fast in his house, when she was waiting for him to come back. 

Spencer felt knocked out of a dream, like someone had yanked the chord on his music, shaken him awake into the freezing realisation she was waiting for a reply. 

He’d made her wait long enough. 

He barely heard her footsteps entering her own room, probably worried when he hadn’t responded and she said his name, “Spence?” A shudder rolled over his neck when he heard it, a siren song he’d been hearing like a mantra for weeks and he felt something fat and full well in his chest when he turned to look at her, standing there in nothing but boxers and a shirt, just as she had when he’d first met her. 

Except she was his. She was waiting on his call, on his signal, on his word go. 

And it was like the idea of being with her for the rest of his life made his living part worth it too. Like it always had done. 

Her eyes fell down to where his hand rested on top of the book, the page splayed open where he’d delicately flicked it open, the yellow post-it catching in the light and making her expression fall. 

They looked at each other, the same thought channelling between them, their brains meshed together on some other kind of bluetooth the same way they’d always done, only this time it was a prickling hive mind that gave them both gooseflesh the second they locked eyes. 

“Why didn’t you give me this?” He asked, his voice small because he already knew the answer, not daring to move a muscle like she was some kind of deer ready to be spooked. 

“You were busy,” She said equally as sheepish, her thumb moving to pick the side of her nail when she saw his still stature. They went quiet again, neither of them daring so much as to breathe too loud because they both knew what was on that note. It was the closest she could ever come to splitting open her own chest and handing him that thumping wad of bloodied muscle herself, and it was only when he turned to look at her did she panic, words tumbling from her lips; anything to stop him from walking away because she’d been poking around a fresh wound, “You weren’t supposed to see- I mean you were but only when you wanted to, I didn’t want you to think-”

Except he wasn’t heading for the door like she’d thought, he was heading straight for her. 

“Spence, please, I wasn’t going to tell you until-” But she’d shut up, because instead of replying anything back to her, instead of telling her she could have his heart and his soul and everything in between if she’d ever ask for it again, instead of telling her she was the thing that had kept him alive, like she might as well be the blood that rushed through every one of his veins, he grabbed her face in his hands so hard her back hit the wall, her hands flying out to stop herself from falling. 

And he kissed her, so hard he thought he might cry because it was better than any high he’d ever had, any drug on the market, better than his wildest dreams. She froze for a second, worried she’d tripped and fallen on her way over, that this was a concussion spun wild, because there was no way he was kissing her with every inch of their available skin pressing against one another, his hands swallowing her cheeks whole, his body invading her space, his breath rushing through her nose that bumped against his clumsily. 

Bugsy woke up after a second, her hands gripping onto his slender waist like he was pulling her drowning out of water, like he was dragging her from a flame which she didn’t think sounded too far off since her skin had become molten, her cheeks hot, her chest wrenching for control like she’d inhaled black smoke. 

But he was there, kissing her like she was all he had left, and she kissed him back with equal fervour, whimpering when he bit her lip, a hand wrapping around her waist to tug her just that bit closer to his stomach. Any molecule of her that was left behind was stolen by the action, and all she could think was that every inch of her was his, entirely his, his forever if he wanted it. 

“I love you, I love you so much,” He gasped, drawing away for a split second of air before he took her lips to his own once more, twice, and a third for good luck, their teeth knocking together as he wanted to tell her that a million more times while still kissing her, “I love you, I love you. God, I don’t think I ever want to stop saying it,” 

He pulled her to him again, silencing his own stupid ramblings of a mad man, a whine dragging from his throat as his brows furrowed, his lips soft and plump as he kissed her like he was begging for honey after a hundred day fast. 

And she smiled into his mouth, because Spencer was finally hers. 

--

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[buckttommy]

something something buck and tommy's first major argument. buck walks out because he knows if he doesn't, he's going to explode. he goes to eddie's house and unloads, because of course he does. eddie listens intently.

"and then i came here." buck drops down on the sofa.

eddie nods and rests a hand on his shoulder. "sorry man."

"it is what it is. can i crash here for the night?"

eddie gives him a look. "don't be stupid. of course you can." he pauses. "hey, you told tommy you were coming back, right?"

buck stares. "uh, no, those were not exactly my last words. it's fine, though. i'm pretty sure he already knows."

tommy's not the one with abandonment issues anyway, that's buck's thing. a weird look crosses eddie's face but he doesn't say anything and buck doesn't ask. they play video games until they crash out in the living room like a couple of teenagers, and then the next morning, buck goes home.

he lets himself in using his key. tommy is in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. he looks startled to see buck standing there, which is fair, buck supposes. he goes over and kisses him and apologizes and tommy says it's okay, and apologizes too, and buck thinks that's supposed to be it but tommy's being weird. he's distant in a way that buck didn't expect. tommy answers his questions, and he participates in conversation, but he's not present. it's only when they're in bed for the night that buck rolls over to face him.

"okay, what is it?"

tommy yawns. "what is what?"

"this." buck waves a hand between the two of them. "you're being weird."

"i'm being weird."

"yes. and if you're - if you're still mad, you know, we should, uh. i don't know. we should talk about it."

an unreadable look crosses tommy's face. he shrugs. "i'm not mad."

but he's something. buck keeps looking at him, keeps wordlessly begging him to give him something.

eventually tommy sighs. "look i'm not mad. i just... didn't think you were coming back. and over the years i've learned that it's best to just... accept reality quickly rather than wait for it to sink in."

buck sits up. "but i did come back."

"you did." tommy's smile is small. "i guess i'm just waiting for my brain to catch up because it still thinks you're gone and aren't coming back."

and that's the point buck realizes that, for as much damage as tommy could do to him, he could do so much more to tommy.

"hey, hey, no." he throws the covers off and straddles tommy's hips, cupping his face and leaning forward so their chests are touching so he can meet his gaze. "i'm not leaving."

"you did."

"yeah, i mean — yes, i needed space. but i was coming back. i was always planning to come back."

tommy lifts his shoulders in a helpless little gesture. "i didn't know that. i thought you were done. i thought —" he cuts himself off and swallows once, twice. "i thought you were done," he says again, quietly.

christ, buck is the worst person alive. no wonder eddie looked at him like that. he wants to go back in time and beat himself with a stick but there will be time for self flagellation after he's reassured his boyfriend. so buck kisses him slowly, deeply, thoroughly and presses their foreheads together.

"i'm not leaving —" this, he almost says. but it's more than that, isn't it? tommy doesn't just want reassurance that buck still wants a relationship, he wants reassurance that he still wants him. buck clears his throat. "i'm not leaving you, tom. i'm — i'm in this. you know? i might — okay yeah, i might need space every now and again, especially when we get into it like we did but i'm —" he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for this last part, and forces himself to hold tommy's stare. "i'm pretty sure you're it for me. you know? like. when i picture my future, it's — it's me, and then there's you. and sometimes one or both of us has grey hair. maybe a couple pets. couple kids. but. it's always you and me."

tommy blinks up at him. "oh," he whispers.

but it's not a dismissive oh, or even an oh that says he doesn't want that too. it's just purely overwhelmed. so buck smiles and presses a dry kiss to his forehead.

"yeah, oh," he says against his skin.

tommy's hands tighten around his waist. this close together buck can feel the rapid pound of tommy's heartbeat. it's one of his favorite feelings in the world.

tommy rubs his thumb over his hipbones. "in case you haven't guessed, you're kind of it for me too."

buck hums. "yeah."

"yeah." tommy nudges buck's jaw up and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "i am so. madly, insanely, terrifyingly in love with you." he pulls back so he can look into his eyes. "you're all i see. my future is nothing but you."

buck swallows, eyes filling with tears. "oh."

tommy huffs a breathy laugh. "yeah. oh."

and then they kiss and kiss and kiss until the sun comes up.

[mononijikayu]

“slipping through my fingers” — gojo satoru.

Your little Satoshi pouted for a moment, clearly missing their presence.You were sure he was going to bawl about it as well, swaying him and reassuring him that he’s going to see them later on. But his loving father Gojo Satoru, was always quick to adapt and took over playing with him after breakfast. Crisis was averted in the department of tears as Gojo Satoshi giggled, his chubby hands clumsily trying to catch the ball Satoru rolled towards him.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: slipping through my fingers by abba

NOTE: i had to skip nanami and toji because today is a very important day. today according to the united nations, is global day of parents. today we should honor parents, biological or not, or those we chose - they are people we should embrace. from gaza, to here in asia, to anywhere, all parents, all those who stand as our parents - they deserve all our love. happy global day of parents from me to you!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

kayu's playlist — side 700;

TIME PASSED BY SO FAST. The morning sun filtered through the light gray curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the living room. It was rare for the Gojo household to be this serene. But you were happy that it was the case. It was as if a gentle rain of gentle peace had showered over your home the moment your son was born. It was as if he had completed this family. You knew you weren’t the only one that thought that way. 

You hummed softly, feeling the warmth on your skin as you prepared breakfast. It was a good morning.It was one of those rare days when your husband Gojo Satoru was at home. And that puts you in a good mood. Your husband doesn’t sleep much and more so. That has always worried you, even when he was your kouhai. Nothing had changed with the fact that he’s always out and about working and doing missions. 

But you worry still, that you aren’t there to soothe him and tell him it was alright to rest. When he’s home, you could do that. You didn’t have to worry as much as you usually do. Having him home means he could be here with the family. That also means he could stay in bed longer, savoring the simple pleasure of waking up next to you. These moments were precious, and you clung to them more than you could explain.

The start of the morning was happily slow, the house enveloped in a serene calm. You cherished the tranquility, knowing how fleeting it often was. As you moved about the kitchen, you could feel the warm sun against your silk robe. There it was again, the familiar sounds of the coffee maker and the sizzling of bacon omelets created a comforting symphony. The sound of the oven racks filled with fresh buttered bread. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of breakfast.

You smiled as you thought about Satoru still in bed, his tousled white hair spread across the pillow, a rare sight of peacefulness. You poured a cup of coffee for yourself, adding two spoonfuls of honey. You knew Satoru would probably not be drinking coffee. 

But just in case, you made hot choco he could heat up in the microwave later, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar to him. You take out the eggs from the fry pan and humming as you take out the buttered bread from the oven. Balancing the breakfast plate, you made your way to the living room, placing the plates on the coffee table.

As you expected, the morning birds were already there waiting for you to wake. Megumi and Tsumiki were already awake when you got out of the kitchen. They sat on the couch, engrossed in a morning cartoon, Tsumiki’s laughter and chatter filling the room with warmth and Megumi’s quiet hums as he listened to his sister’s commentary while drinking his carton of choco milk. 

Tsumiki glanced up and greeted you with a bright smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, sweetie!" you replied, returning to the kitchen for your coffee mug on the table. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Tsumiki grinned, hugging you by your sides.“Thank you for helping me put my new butterfly comforters last night, Gen-san!”

You smiled at her, urging her to breakfast. “Then go eat, hm?”

You then moved towards the sleepy porcupine haired boy, ruffling his hair with a small grin. He looked away from the television, offering a small, sleepy smile. “You must have been up reading those novels again, hm?”

Megumi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away. “...no, I didn’t.”

“Hmm… so if I check your room, I wouldn’t see a pile of books—”

“No!” He got defensive, standing up from his chair, now almost fully awake.

You blinked and looked at Tsumiki, and the two of you giggled together.

Megumi blushed as he sighed. You patted his head softly, causing him to blush even more. “You know, you’re lucky that it’s a Sunday, kid,” you smiled at him. “You would have been sleepy all day.”

“.....It was good.”

You kissed the top of his head. “I know it was.”

"Where's Satoru-san?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"He's still resting," you said, settling onto the couch beside them. "He had a long week, so we're letting him sleep in today."

Megumi nodded, his attention already drifting back to the show. You called Megumi down to sit by you and Tsumiki as you both ate your meals. Megumi was not the type to indulge in breakfast, he liked just drinking his choco milk and going on with the morning. But some days, he liked to indulge himself. He sat beside you, and put his choco milk on the side. Tsumiki and you started to chatter about the cartoon while Megumi ate in silence, nodding along with what you both were saying. 

Tsumiki was happy to help you carry the dishes back into the kitchen while Megumi took a cleaning rag and started to clean the coffee table spotless. Tsumiki started talking about what she was planning to do today, all the while you listened and handed the plates for her to dry with the kitchen towel. Megumi came by soon after, asking for help to wash the cleaning rag.

 When that was done, Megumi took out the lint roller and started to check for any speck of dirt like crumbs. When he was done, you three went back to the living room and started watching a movie together. Tsumiki snuggled closer on your right while Megumi slept soundly on your left. You smiled and hugged her back, and massaged Megumi’s hair tenderly.

The baby monitor on the table crackled to life, and you heard soft cooing sounds coming from the nursery. "Looks like our little one is awake for the day." you said, standing up. "I'll go get him."

Tsumiki’s eyes brightened as she nodded. You stood there carefully, trying to be careful not to wake Megumi. You walked down the hallway, the morning light from the wide windows guiding your way. Entering the nursery, you found your six-month-old son awake in his crib, his bright eyes lighting up as he saw you like an ocean in the dawn. You grinned at him.

"Good morning, sweetheart," you cooed, lifting him into your arms. He babbled happily, his tiny hands reaching for your face. “You had a good sleep, didn’t you?”

As you returned to the living room, you saw your husband Satoru emerging from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from his cerulean eyes. He smiled when he saw you holding your son. "Morning, my treasures." he greeted, his voice warm and filled with love. “You both look so lively today, aren’t you?”

“You should say ‘good morning’ to papa, shouldn’t you, Satoshi?” You cooed as you handed your son gently giggled as Satoru took him in his arms. 

“You’re just so happy to see ‘e, hm?” Your husband grinned as he gently wrapped his arms around your baby boy. “You should still sleep with us. I miss having you on our bed, ‘toshi.”

“Our Satoshi needs to learn how to be an independent little boy.” You kissed your husband tenderly on his lips, pouting as you part from him. “He’s not gonna last in our bed with all the rolling he’s been doing.”

“But ‘toshi wants to be with his mama and papa, don’t you, little one?” He cooes against your husband, both big blue eyes looking at you. “See, he agrees!”

“Not enough to be an argument.”

“Soon enough, ‘toshi. We’ll get there, don’t worry!”

"We shall see, naughty boys." you replied, grinning at him. "So, did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," he chuckled, kissing your son’s cheek.. "Well, almost as well as our baby here."

You both laughed, and Satoru leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. "I missed waking up with you, y’know?" he murmured. “Knowing you guys are here waiting for me to come home and I can’t be here. It sucks.”

"I’ve missed it too,’toru." you said, feeling a surge of affection for the man standing before you. "Let's enjoy this slow morning together, hm? Make it worthwhile until tomorrow, hm?”

Satoru nodded, taking your son's tiny hand in his. "I keep noticing it. But he's growing up so fast," he huffed at you, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He can sit up now, and he’s rolling. Soon enough he’s gonna start crawling.”

You sighed, kissing your son’s little head. “I still can’t believe he’s already six months old, my love. He’s already so big.”

“Sometimes I wish I could slow down time," Satoru said wistfully, staring at your little boy as he grabbed the sheets in his fingers. “He’s already so big, and I can’t always be home.”

"I know," you said softly, taking a moment to take his free hand in yours. “And don’t feel bad. You’re doing your best. You know that.”

“I do know that.” He sighed, squeezing your hand gently. “But I just… ever since he was born, I just wanted to be his dad. Just wanna stay here at home and raise him. Not out there, fighting curses and stuff. I wanna see him and ‘miki and ‘gumi growing up together, y’know? I don’t wanna do the job anymore.”

You looked into his bright cerulean eyes, seeing the conflict and the deep longing. You knew your Satoru hated being a sorcerer. Everything about it was painful for him. But he liked being a teacher, he liked that job. He wanted to do it for the longest time because he always thought it was the best way he could make change work. He saw that nurturing the youth was the best way to bring the Jujutsu world into the modern world. 

But with all that, he also felt that to do what he does, to make it work — he has to sacrifice all the time he could be with you and the kids. And that, he hated more than he hated the sorcerer’s life. He hated being apart from what matters most in his life. Gojo Satoru was just a man too. He’s a man that longs for home, for family. 

"You’re an amazing dad, Satoru," you reassured him. "And I know it’s hard, but you’re doing what you can to keep us safe and happy. The kids know that too. They love you for it.”

He nodded, a soft smile forming on his lips as he glanced back at your son. “It’s just… every moment I’m away, I feel like I’m missing out. I want to be there for every milestone, every laugh, every tear. I don’t want to miss anything anymore.”

"I understand," you whispered, your heart aching for him. "And we’ll make the most of the time we have together. Maybe one day, things will change, and you’ll be able to be home more. But for now, let’s cherish every moment.”

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he murmured. "For understanding. For always being here. For making this place a home."

"We’re a team, my love." you said, squeezing his hand. "And no matter what, we’ll face everything together, hm? We’ll always be together.”

Your little boy cooed and giggled, making you both look at him. You laugh as you both kiss his cheeks. Looks like he agrees with the two of you. The two of you sat there, soaking in the precious morning. Despite the challenges and the fleeting nature of time, you found solace in each other and the beautiful family you were building. It makes you look forward to more days like these ones. You wanted nothing more than to be embraced by this peace.

The two of you stepped out of your bedroom a little while later, with Satoshi safely nestled in Satoru’s capable hands. Megumi’s porcupine hair sprang up as he sat up from his sleeping position, Tsumiki greeting him awake with a small smile. The soft sounds of your son gurgling and babbling filled the air, drawing Megumi and Tsumiki's attention toward the three of you.

Tsumiki squealed in delight and walked toward you, saying good morning to Satoshi. The baby seemed just as delighted with her, his tiny hand reaching out to Tsumiki. Megumi approached as well, and when Satoshi noticed him, his other hand reached out toward Megumi.

“Good morning, little guy!” Tsumiki cooed, gently taking Satoshi’s hand. "Did you sleep well?”

Satoshi responded with a happy babble, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and joy. Megumi, trying to hide his own excitement, gently took Satoshi’s other hand, earning a giggle from the baby.

“Looks like someone’s happy to see his big brother and sister,” Satoru said with a smile, his eyes soft as he watched the three of them interact. “He’s definitely wanting to have some play time with you both.”

“Then we will, Satoru-san!” Tsumiki grinned as her eyes filled with the stars. “I’m excited to see him play with the blocks again.”

“Hm, ‘toshi managed to lift them up well last night, didn’t he?” Satoru grinned back at her, his cerulean eyes darting at his baby boy. “What do you think, ‘toshi? Can you top yourself today, little dawn?”

Megumi, still holding Satoshi’s hand, looked up at Satoru. “He’s growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday he was born.”

“I know,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and wistfulness. “But we’re lucky to see him grow and to be a part of his little dawnings, hm?”

You watched the scene unfold, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Every moment is precious, everyone.” you said softly, leaning against Satoru. “And we’re making the most of them.”

As the morning sun continued to filter through the windows, casting a warm glow over your family, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In the gentle embrace of dawn's light, amidst the everyday hustle and bustle, there existed a profound beauty. It was in these simple, yet profound moments that the true essence of life revealed itself. Despite the challenges and the rapid passage of time, these moments of connection and love were what made everything worthwhile.

The morning rays illuminated the room, dancing playfully across the walls, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way they seemed to highlight the love that filled the space. Each tender glance, every shared smile, spoke volumes of the bonds that held your family together.

In these fleeting moments, as the world outside rushed by, time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor the sweetness of the present. It was as if the universe had pressed pause, granting you a brief respite from the chaos of everyday life.

As you looked around at the faces of your loved ones, bathed in the golden light of morning, you realized that this, right here, was what it was all about. It was about cherishing the small moments, the quiet conversations, and the shared laughter. It was about finding beauty in the ordinary and love in the everyday.

And so, as the sun continued its journey across the sky, you held onto this feeling of gratitude, letting it wash over you like a gentle wave. For in these moments, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you knew that life was truly a gift worth treasuring.

Life could not get any better than this.

You couldn’t wait to see how it unfolds.

This morning will be a happy one again.

That you were never going to doubt.

YOU FEARED THAT BOTH OF YOU WEREN’T READY FOR THIS. A package arrived that morning from aunt Arisu and your mother. Satoru was confused, looking at his phone. He never ordered anything and even when he did, he would get a notification. He learned the hard way of not having a notification when he bought something and you were the one who saw it. He looked at you, shaking his head. You didn’t order either. You were a bit more suspicious with ordering online. Ever since your Mewtwo figurine arrived with discoloration, you were trying to be more careful. You shook your head at him just as much.

When you saw the letter from your mother, you instantly thought you knew what it was. She had been talking about how near Satoshi was with being able to eat solids. Last time you visited Mikoto manor in Kyoto, Satoshi was stealing her natto bowl. She had laughed it off, but now you realized that her laugh was pride for her grandson growing up. And now, both you and Satoru were sitting on the floor, surrounded by an array of baby food jars, each promising a different culinary adventure for your little one.

Sweet potatoes, peas, applesauce, and bananas were neatly lined up, each jar meticulously packaged one after another. You checked the bottom for the expiration dates. You don’t think Satoshi will be able to finish all of it. You don’t even think that Satoshi would like every flavor. He’s still drinking from your breast milk too. It was exciting, that’s for sure. But you were concerned about the fact that these will go to waste.

You held your son with one hand, his weight comfortably nestled against your hip, while the other hand deftly navigated through the array of baby food jars. It was a delicate balancing act, one that you had perfected through countless days of caring for Satoshi. As you carefully sifted through the jars, your fingers grazed over the smooth glass surfaces, each one holding the promise of a new taste sensation for your little one. 

Despite the occasional wobble as Satoshi squirmed in your arms, you remained focused, determined to find the perfect combination of flavors to tantalize his taste buds. With each jar you picked up, you couldn't help but marvel at the thoughtfulness that went into creating these tiny culinary delights, each one meticulously crafted to nourish and delight your growing son.

As you finally settled on a few jars to try, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. It wasn't just about feeding your son; it was about nourishing his curiosity, his sense of adventure, and his growing appetite for life. And as you looked down at Satoshi's eager face, you knew that this simple act of selecting baby food was just the beginning of a lifetime of shared experiences and cherished memories.

Satoru let out a small sigh, running a hand through his white hair as he looked at the jars.”I don’t even know where Arisu got all this.”

“Apparently, my mom and her managed to find all this from one of the windows we hired at the temple.” You say, sighing as you arrange the jars in a safe distance from your son. “And it worked well for her daughter’s baby. So mom and aunt Arisu thought this was going to be good for Satoshi too.”

"I can't believe he's already six months old." he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and melancholy. "It feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital. And now, look at this. He’ll be eating this soon enough!”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "I know, Satoru. It feels like time is slipping through our fingers."

He gave you a small, wistful smile, his bright eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Remember when we finished the fifth-month photo album? I thought I'd be fine, but seeing how much he's grown...I couldn't help but cry."

You chuckled softly, squeezing his knee gently. "And now we're here, trying to figure out what our little boy's first solid food will be. It's a big milestone."

Satoru looked down at your son, who was busy gnawing on a soft toy, oblivious to the significance of the moment. "What do you think he'll like?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

You glanced at the array of jars, considering each one. "Well, he seems to like sweet things. Maybe we should start with the applesauce?"

Satoru nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Applesauce it is." He reached for the jar, his fingers trembling slightly. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

You smiled, seeing the emotion in his eyes. "Let's do it together."

Gently, you both lifted your son into his high chair, his curious eyes darting between the two of you and the jar of applesauce. You opened the jar, the sweet aroma filling the air, and dipped a tiny spoon into the puree.

Satoru held your son's hands, steadying him as you brought the spoon to his lips. Tentatively, your son opened his mouth, tasting the applesauce for the first time. His eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled in delight as he smacked his lips.

Both you and Satoru laughed, tears of joy streaming down your faces. "He likes it!" Satoru exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion. "He really likes it!"

You nodded, feeling a swell of happiness in your chest. "He does. Our little boy is growing up so fast."

Satoru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched your son eagerly reach for the spoon, ready for another taste of his new favorite food. "I love you," Satoru whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. "And I love our little family."

As the three of you sat there, basking in the glow of this precious moment, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. The soft light filtering through the windows cast a warm embrace over your little family, illuminating the joy and contentment that filled the room.

In that fleeting moment, surrounded by jars of baby food and the sound of Satoshi's delighted babbling, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a perfect tableau, a snapshot of love and togetherness frozen in time.

As you looked at Satoru and then down at Satoshi, a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm you. Here, in this simple moment, you found everything you had ever wanted—a loving partner, a beautiful child, and a sense of belonging that filled your heart to the brim.

You could have not seen this years ago.

But you were glad you didn’t then.

Because now, you were truly happy.

Beyond all words can truly be express.

ALL THAT PLAYING MADE SATOSHI TIRED. Megumi and Tsumiki excused themselves back to their rooms after spending some time in the living room. They said they had other things they needed to do. You didn’t question it that much, they always took time to play with Satoshi before they did their own things — so you let them go. 

Your little Satoshi pouted for a moment, clearly missing their presence.You were sure he was going to bawl about it as well, swaying him and reassuring him that he’s going to see them later on. But his loving father Gojo Satoru, was always quick to adapt and took over playing with him after breakfast. Crisis was averted in the department of tears as Gojo Satoshi giggled, his chubby hands clumsily trying to catch the ball Satoru rolled towards him. 

He was energetic for hours on end, very much on par with his father’s own energy. But after using all that energy playing with his father, your son started to get groggy. He started crying, getting hungry for milk. His contorted face looks exactly like your husband’s own face when he starts to get mopey when he wants his sweet snacks. 

Your husband rolled his eyes playfully, when you pointed it out while breastfeeding him. Satoru then took him from you, to burp him and put him to bed. Your breasts were still full after that, so you had to pump all the rest into a bottle to be frozen later on. By that time, you were too drained of energy. You put the bottles away and your husband Satoru kissed you and thanked you, telling you to go get some rest. He was the one who was going to deal with lunch. He wants to take care of you, he said. And he meant it. With those words, you fell in love with him again. And so you laid down on the couch, trying to take some rest.

Once Satoshi was down for his nap, he put him in his crib. He kisses his cheek, telling him to have good dreams. When Satoru saw you next, you were asleep in the living room couch. He couldn’t help but want to place a kiss on your cheeks. His bright blue eyes were full of awe as you rested on the couch. His precious wife. You made everything in life easier, that was sure. You worked hard taking care of the kids, of your baby, of him. You deserved to rest, he loves to think. And now, he wants to take care of you.

Satoru checked the fridge, humming as he took a look at the food inside. He wanted to prepare something nutritious for everyone but especially something good for you. You were still breastfeeding Satoshi, so your health was paramount in his mind. When he saw the salmon, he knew he was going to make some delicious grilled salmon. He'd read that it helps with the pain in your breasts. He saw the miso, and he thought it would be perfect for marinating the salmon. You’d like it a lot. There was some seaweed in the fridge too, and he thought it would be great in a soup. With some tofu, shiitake mushrooms, and a bit of meat, it would be both hearty and enjoyable.

He moved efficiently around the kitchen, his movements practiced and precise. He marinated the salmon in miso, set it aside to soak in the flavors, and started on the soup. The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of shiitake mushrooms simmering, mingling with the subtle scent of seaweed. As he carefully grilled the salmon, he could hear you stirring awake in the bedroom.

You always had a keen sense of smell, and the scent of the grilled miso salmon must have reached you. He grinned as he heard you padding down the hallway, still a little groggy from sleep. You walked up to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "It smells so good, 'toru," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, his heart swelling with affection. “I made something special for you. Thought it might help with the breastfeeding pain.”

You smiled against his back, pressing a light kiss there. “You’re too good to me.”

Satoru chuckled, a warm, deep sound that resonated through his chest. “Only the best for my favorite person in the world.” he teased gently, turning back to the stove to check on the soup. “The salmon’s almost done. Just a few more minutes.”

You stayed there for a moment, savoring the comfort of being close to him, before reluctantly pulling away to set the table. You were carefully putting each bowl and each utensil, the glasses. You could still feel the grogginess in your limbs, but the delicious smells and the thoughtfulness behind Satoru’s cooking filled you with a warm, contented feeling. Your husband was the best person you could ever ask for, you think. And now, you could only love him even more.

As you finished setting the table, Satoru plated the food, arranging the grilled salmon and bowls of steaming soup with care. “Lunch is served, my darling.” he announced with a flourish, making you laugh. “Come on, you awake now?”

You both sat down, and he watched with satisfaction as you took your first bite of the salmon. “It’s amazing,” you said, your eyes lighting up. “You outdid yourself, Satoru.”

He smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I’m glad you like it.”

“We should call the kids so they can eat with us.” He stands up.

“I’ll come with you, so that we can eat together.” You follow him.

He hands you his own hand. “Well, take my hands.”

You look at him, blinking. “Why?”

“Because holding hands makes everything good.” He grins at you.

You giggled, intertwining his hand with your own. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so corny.”

“Hey! I’m just a man in love!”

The house was relatively a normal house, but it was quite spacious. It was obvious that Satoru spent some money finding a house which would fit all of your comforts. Megumi and Tsumiki’s room was on the other side of the second floor, just a few doors away from your own bedroom and just a little bit further from the nursery. You and Satoru quietly made your way through the house, you both humming a song stuck in his head. And now that he had hummed it long enough, you learned it and hummed with you too. 

The house was interestingly silent, but it wasn’t unusual. At times, Megumi was just reading a book he had taken home from the library. And Tsumiki would be too busy finishing her drawings with her windowpane. The silence was always comforting in the Gojo household. It was like being wrapped around you like a warm blanket. However,  as you got nearer the kids’ rooms, the tranquility was soon interrupted by faint, muffled voices. You were pretty sure that it came from Megumi’s room.

You exchanged a curious glance with Satoru before heading toward the source of the commotion. Your face furrows. Megumi and Tsumiki rarely fight. If they were fighting, it must be serious. You pulled Satoru towards Megumi’s door. Standing outside Megumi's door, you could hear the sounds of a hushed argument even more clearer now.

"Shhh, Megumi, calm down! you’ll wake Satoshi!” Tsumiki whispered urgently.

“We have to do it right!” Megumi retorted in a low voice, clearly frustrated. “No, no, don’t add that!”

“But it makes it even more lively–”

“It makes it messy!”

Satoru looked at you and you nodded at your husband. You and Satoru knocked gently on the door. But there was no response. Almost instantly, the room fell silent. You looked at your husband again, now confused. After a moment,  Fushiguro Tsumiki opened the door ever so slightly, a nervous smile on her face.

“What’s going on here?” Satoru’s eyes trying to check inside the room. You were pretty sure that he was trying to check with his six-eyes, if there was something wrong.. “You kids are getting lively, huh?”

Tsumiki opened the door even more and Megumi and herexchanged quick glances. You and Satoru entered a bit by the doorway before Tsumiki spoke up. “We… um, we were working on something.” She stepped aside, moving to the side as though she was hiding something. “Just for school, you know… like usual.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their attempt at secrecy. "School projects on a Sunday? Sounds serious."

“If you had projects, you could have told us, ‘miki.” You told her, patting her head. “You don’t have to do them alone.”

“N-no, it's fine. It’s nothing really.”

“Hm, you sure, ‘miki?” Your husband reinforced, then looked at Megumi. “‘bout you, ‘gumi? You okay there?”

Tsumiki's nervous smile widened as she tried to maintain her composure. “Yeah, it’s just a little project. Nothing big.”

But your curiosity was piqued. “Can we see what you’re working on?” you asked gently, trying not to pressure them too much. “If that’s okay with you.”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at each other.

Tsumiki’s fingers were entangled like spider webs.

Megumi looked down at the edge of his cold feet.

You and Satoru knew those little tells very well.

But you wanted them to tell you about it honestly.

Megumi purses his lips before he lets out a sigh. realizing they couldn’t keep the secret any longer. He stepped forward, his own hands now fidgeting slightly. “Okay, but… it’s not just for school,” he admitted. “It’s….something else.”

Your husband’s dark glasses lowered, lips smiling. “Oh? And what is it, hm? Don’t worry, we won’t judge. If it’s fixable, it's nothing. If it isn’t, it's okay too. As long as you both are alright, okay? Besides, you guys must be hungry. We’ll eat after, okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at both of you.

They both slowly nodded at your husband.

He smiles at them, patting their heads.

“Okay so, what is it all about, kiddos?”

Tsumiki took a deep breath, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nerves. Her hands are still fidgeting together. “We were making something special. It’s nothing much….but….my friend at school, she’s Korean, and she told me about this holiday they have called Parents’ Day. It’s a day to appreciate your parents, and I thought it was really nice. To…..So…..I convinced Megumi to help me make something for you guys.”

Megumi nodded, still looking a bit uncomfortable. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face slightly turning red. “We never really knew our parents long enough to call them that, parents.” he said quietly. “But you and Gojo–san… you’re all we have. The closest thing to parents we’ve got.”

Tsumiki picked up a small, handmade scrapbook from Megumi’s desk and handed it to you. “We wanted to do something special for you both. To show you how much you mean to us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you took a look at the scrapbook in Tsumiki’s hands. Satoru, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, put a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. As you accepted the scrapbook from Tsumiki's outstretched hands, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you. 

Opening the scrapbook, the weight of the memories contained within the pages was palpable, each photo and memento a testament to the bonds of friendship and the shared experiences they had all treasured. Satoru's silent gesture spoke volumes, his cerulean eyes shimmering with unshed tears that mirrored the emotions swirling within Hiromi's own heart. The gentle pressure of his hand on Megumi's shoulder, squeezing it as though to thank him for this little gift. 

In that fleeting moment, as you held the scrapbook in your hands, you felt a profound sense of gratitude.. Their unwavering support and understanding had been a source of strength during the darkest moments of your journey, and now, as you reminisced about the past, it served as a beacon of hope for the future. Nothing else mattered, but the wonder of the future. Because they were here with you. Megumi and Tsumiki, and now Satoshi — all three were truly yours and Satoru’s world.

With tears glistening in your eyes, you turned to Tsumiki, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you," you whispered,  "For this, and for everything. ‘miki, you and Megumi are our world, hm? Never forget that.”

Tsumiki's smile was gentle and reassuring, her eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion that permeated the room. "Thank you for loving us, me and Megumi." she replied softly, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness. 

“Oh ‘miki, you don’t have to thank us for that.” Satoru whispered, pulling Megumi closer to him. Megumi looked like he was going to lose it. But he didn’t push Satoru away. He just let him pull him closer. “This is…this is just….”

Opening the first page, you saw Megumi and Tsumiki's handwriting: “Happy Parents' Day. Thank you for choosing us. We may not be your kids by blood, but we’re happy that you still chose to love us. We love you. Tsumiki and Megumi.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read the heartfelt message. You looked at Satoru, who was equally moved, then back at Megumi and Tsumiki. “This is… this is the most beautiful gift we’ve ever received, you both.” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Satoru knelt down, pulling both kids into a tight hug. “You two are our family,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “We love you more than anything.”

You joined the embrace, wrapping your arms around all two of them. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For being the best children we could ever ask for. You both and Satoshi, you’re our world okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki nodded, their eyes shining with tears of their own. "We love you too," Megumi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tsumiki nodded in agreement, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "You're the best parents we could ever have."

You cried for a while, just embracing each other. The lunch got cold, that was certain. But you could always heat it up again. This moment, this is what mattered. Time may be slipping from your fingers all the time, but you could live in these moments forever, you know that.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt the weight of the world lift, replaced by the comfort of love and understanding. It didn't matter that the food grew cold or that the outside world continued to spin on its axis. In this moment, with Satoru's arms around you, with Megumi and Tsumiki’s warmth on you, Satoshi’s warm small hands on your own —  you knew that you will live on happily. You could survive anything, if you have them. You could live in their solace.

As tears slowly dried on your cheeks, you knew that life was a series of fleeting moments, but it was these moments of connection and intimacy that made it all worthwhile. You held onto Satoru and the kids a little tighter, grateful for the love that anchored you in a world that often felt uncertain. You will be alright, that was for sure. 

Everything will be alright, you knew that well enough.

You couldn’t wait to see what could be in the future.

You couldn’t wait to grow old with the love of your life.

You couldn’t wait to see your kids grow up happily.

epilogue

november, 2018;

Fushiguro Megumi stood at the gates of Jujutsu High, his heart heavy with the weight of recent events. Shibuya had left its mark on him, both physically and emotionally, and now he found himself back at the place where it all began. But now there are other worries, other concerns that need him. He didn’t come and see you, because he knew you would forbid him from being in danger. And he can’t stop himself. He had to do what he could. Now, more than ever.

His purpose for coming back here, even though it was dangerous, was clear—to retrieve some of his belongings before disappearing into hiding. Before he finds Itadori, he had to get some things here, ones that were needed for survival. 

With determined steps, he made his way to Gojo–sensei’s office, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The door creaked open, revealing a room frozen in time—a testament to the chaos that had engulfed their world.

His blue-green eyes fell upon the photo album, sitting on Gojo–sensei’s desk, untouched since that day, since October 31st. He purses his lips as he thinks about it. Should he go? He tried to stop himself, but he knew he couldn’t. He missed him. Megumi knew he did. But he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Because it wouldn’t be easy. He wouldn’t be able to move forward with what had to be done. Still, he needed some comfort. He needed some relief. To know what it was like to have known that man, that man who had raised him.

Megumi approached the room slowly, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He gulped, his throat tight with emotion, before twisting the door open. Gojo-sensei's room stood before him, a sanctuary untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the rest of the world.

The air was heavy with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee—a comforting presence that wrapped around Megumi like a warm embrace. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail—the neatly arranged shelves, the piles of books stacked haphazardly on the desk, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

Gojo-sensei never really locked his room. Because people knew not to go in. It was only for him, this sanctuary. Not even the higher-ups had the courage to intrude upon his private space. Not even when they had attacked Jujutsu High awhile ago. And so since then, since he had been taken by others from Megumi, from the world that adored him —Gojo Satoru’s office had no occupants. 

Megum took small careful strides as hei moved forward, careful not to alert anyone of his presence in the premises. He pauses for a moment. He sighed as he let his hand reach out to touch the smooth surface of the desk. And there, nestled among a stack of papers, paperwork that man refused to ever do without you, Megumi found it—the scrapbook he and Tsumiki had given you and Gojo–sensei all those years ago.

As he gingerly lifted the scrapbook from its place, a rush of memories flooded his mind. He remembered the countless hours spent carefully selecting photos, writing heartfelt messages, and crafting each page with love and care. It had been a labor of love from him and Tsumiki, to you and Gojo–sensei. 

As he flipped through the pages, the images leaped out at him like ghosts from another worldly plane—smiling faces frozen in time, laughter echoing through the halls of  that house, moments of triumph and joy captured forever in glossy photographs. Each page told a story, a snapshot of their journey together, and as Fushiguro Megumi traced his fingers over the familiar images, he couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion in his chest.

It was a reminder of the family they had built years ago, in a home that was filled with tenderness—a bond forged not by blood, but by shared experiences, shared hardships, and shared dreams. And as Megumi held the scrapbook in his hands, he knew that no matter where life took him, these memories would always be his anchor, grounding him.

With a sense of reverence, he tucked the scrapbook under his arm, knowing that it was all he could have of his family right now. And as he left Gojo-sensei's room behind him, he knew whatever was going to come was not going to be easy. But he had this. Until you all met again, this would be enough. Until he had his family again, he wouldn't stop at nothing. He won’t let those people, those evil people, rob him of his family ever again.

[lululandd]

wrong;

pairing: könig x f!reader

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: fluff?

note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)

summary: 

of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.

bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..

—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.

no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.

until you slipped up, of course.

you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.

hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.

horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.

the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray. 

“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”

“two months.”

“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”

he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.” 

you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.

“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”

horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”

perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.

“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.

stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”

thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.

“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.

könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.

“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.

“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”

“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance. 

to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”

the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”

your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.

what.

blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?” 

his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”

“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”

nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”

you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.

as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”

plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”

she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”

“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”

stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”

she’s right.

but,

he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.

you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.

“your funeral, bunny number two.”

—

you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.

hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?

staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.

the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.

“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”

she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.

the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.

you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.

“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.

putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”

crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”

as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.

“come in, then.” she offered.

taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.

the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.

stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat. 

könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.

bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.

“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.

first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.

“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.

bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.

“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”

you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing. 

bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.” 

the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”

hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.

he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.

oh no.

looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.

at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.

you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”

“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.

you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”

as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.

a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.

[li0nn3stuff]

Kiddo

Chapter eight

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: obsession, kissing, manipulation•

Two months and three weeks after the encounter.

“Jenny is trying to steal my phone every time, I think she wants one too, but our mother doesn’t want to buy her one yet.” She said as she played with the string of grass. “She opens my messages, look at the gallery” She sighs. 

Aemond looked at her, half lying on the grass beside her.

“She did?” He didn’t like it, he didn’t like the idea of her foster sister looking at their chat. “Remind me, how old is she?” 

“She’s seven.” 

He understood pretty early the reason why she was so naive and innocent. She lived in a house full of kids that knew nothing about relationships or sex. She had told him how she basically babysits them all the time when she’s home, because their foster mother is always at work.

“Do you have a password on your phone?” He asked then. 

“No, I never thought I needed one.” She smiled at him.

What he didn’t like even more, is the idea that Jenny would tell their foster mother who he was, if she’d ever find out.

He was sure their foster mother would try to separate them, because while his girl didn’t understand how inappropriate their friendship was, her mother would know it.

She would try to talk some sense into his girl, make her understand that he was too old, that he was probably using, and manipulating her.

Half of it was true.

But he was doing it for her.

Since they reconciled, he had been able to think with a clearer mind, and he understood that he struggled to control himself when he was around her, but if he would have been without her, he would definitely lose it, to a point where he realized how dangerous he could be.

He leant forward and grabbed her soft tiny hand in his. stroking her palm with his thumb.

“We are sticking together.” He states. She looks at him surprised by his comment out of contest.

“Of course. We are best friends, Aem.” She smiled, blushing as she squeezed his hand. Best friend.

He chuckled and nodded. 

She really was something.

“I know, kiddo, I know. Just making sure.” He smirked at her. “Come here.” He pulled her to him, so she could snuggle in his chest as he hugged her thigh, both now laying on the grass.

He needed a fine dose of her to keep himself calm. He started to have her close to him, a bit of her every day, a slight touch, a hug, a small innocent peck.

Something.

Not enough to make him explode, but enough to sedate him.

Enough, to not fuck her raw on every surface they where whenever they met.

“Aem…” Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, kiddo?” He fixed her head under his chin, the pleasant smell of her hair reaching his nose.

“Your phone is ringing, it’s the fourth time now…” She told him softly. He let out a low groan, realizing she was right, and that his phone was indeed ringing in his pocket

“It’s okay, let it ring.” He said, letting out a sigh as he started playing with a string of her hair. “Why don’t you answer it?” She asks curiously, looking at him.

“Nothing important.” He responded calmly, rubbing her hair between his fingers.

“Are you sure? Who is it?” She kept asking further, but despite he usually never liked people asking of his own business, he didn’t mind her curiosing.

“My mother.” He admitted.

“Your mother? Then… it’s probably important, Aem, you should pick up the phone.” She told him concerned.

“No, she–” He sighed. “She wants me to hire my brother.” He explained in annoyance. He did tell her he’d think about it, but he actually never changed his mind, he would never hire Aegon.

“What’s the problem with that? Wouldn’t it be nice to have him at work?” She smiled, as if she had the image in her head.

“Let’s say my brother is a lot like… Colin.” He looked down at her, smiling amused, comparing Aegon to one of her little foster brothers, Coling, was a chaos in particular, and she struggled a lot to keep him in control.

“Oh–” She chuckled a bit. “I’m sorry then.” She looked at him, caressing his arm in comprehension.

“Yeah, I can’t really trust him to work with money.” He looked to the side, sitting back up leaning back on his hands and bending his knees, making her sit as well. She crossed her legs and leant back on her hands. Her wavy cream dress covered her to her knees.

“You could take him, I believe. Your brother… you mean the older one, right? He’s an adult, I believe you could teach him some sense and responsibility.” She suggested as she took a string of grass to play with it.

“Teach Aegon?” He laughed. “You can’t understand, kiddo, he is a lost hope.”

“I believe in you, I think you could make it.” She smiled at him, excited.

"You trust me that much, mh?” He looked at her. He knew she did, but it felt so good to hear it.

“You know I do. You just have to make him care about what he does.” She blushed, refusing to look at him.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll do it.” He said then, making her raise her head surprised, looking at him with her eyes widened.

“Really?” She said happy. He nodded, smiling amused at her silly excitement over something so futile. She sat on her knees to get closer to him, and let the string of grass fall on the ground to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you know what? I just got an idea.” He looked down at her hands caressing his own.

“What?” She was looking at him with those big eyes of hers, and God, he loved to have them on himself.

“I just found what you can do to make me forgive you.” He looked at her as he said that. She immediately furrowed her eyebrows and blushed violently.

“I– I thought you already forgave me.” She says as she starts biting her lower lip. He glanced at her lips for a brief moment, even if she was looking at him and she noticed. She blushed even more and looked down at the ground.

“Yeah, but it has to be more official.” He explained as he leant closer and raised her head by moving his hand under her chin. She nodded slowly, her teeth still nibbling her lip.

“Alright then, what can I do?” She looked up at him.

“Two things, but one is more for you actually.” He smirked, proud of his plan.

“Really?” She asked, confused and surprised. She moved closer to him.

“Yeah, you want to hear them?” He liked to see her so eager to know what he was thinking. He knew he had to go slower with her, and not repeat what happened at his apartment to not scare her away again.

“Yeah, I’m all ears.” She smiled.

“Well, one, I’ll keep you company after you babysit, yeah? You tell me when the kids will be asleep, so you won’t be alone. I’ll leave before your mother will be back.” She immediately smiled at his proposal.

“Yeah, that’s sweet.” She said softly, looking at him with gratefulness.

“But what will get you forgiven is…” He pulled her closer, not being able to resist the occasion of having her near, and so he could look at her face.

“A kiss, whenever I ask you one.” He looked down at her, studying her reaction.

“A kiss? We already kiss!” She chuckled, as Aemond looked at her amused.

“Not those kisses, kiddo. I want them on my lips.” He whispered as he leant even closer, caressing her cheeks softly.

Her breath hitched and she had some trouble finding something to say.

“A– A k–kiss on t–the lips? A–Aemond I..” She stuttered as she shook her head in confusion.

“It’s not that bad, kiddo is it? Does the idea of kissing me disgust you?”

“What?! No! No, Aemond–” She immediately answered, but he interrupted her again,  as he gripped both of her cheeks in his hand.

“Then you don’t want to be forgiven?” He asked then, his grip on her cheeks tightening slightly.

“No! I– I want to be forgiven, Aem, I’m really sorry for how I’ve behaved, I never meant to hurt you and… I–” Her eyes started to get filled with tears as she started panicking.

“Shh, shh, kiddo I know.” He pulled her to sit between his legs, hugging her close. “I know you’re sorry.” He repeated soothingly as he tightened his embrace and caressed her back. She immediately hugged him back, holding on to him.

“I’ll do it.” She mumbled with her face hidden in his neck. I’ll do it, please forgive me.” She sobbed.

“I will, kiddo, I will.” He raised her head and wiped her tears away. “Stop crying, I’m staying here. Okay?”

She looked at him and nodded, sadness still evident in her eyes. He smiled at her as he moved her hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ears and he pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“Why don’t you kiss me now, so you’ll find out if you like it? Mh?” She moved her head to the side, but he used his hands to turn her back to him. “Maybe you’ll end up loving it.” She looked at him and nodded. He smiled as he kept caressing her face. She put her hands on her higher thigh, as he sweetly kissed her temple.

Gently. He had to do it gently.

He kept kissing her face from her temple to her cheek, leaving a wet trail behind. He heard her discontinued breathing as she clenched her hands on his thigh.

“Put your hands on my shoulder kiddo.” He suggested her as he pulled back enough to see her eyes. She nodded and moved her hands to his chest then placed them on his shoulders, squeezing them lightly. He smiled at her as drew her closer.

“Do you like this? Do not lie.” He asked her as he rubbed her back and kissed her chin.

“I–I never lie…” She pouted for a moment, making him chuckle. “I… I like this.” She admitted blushing again.

He crushed his lips against hers.

He wanted to go softer, gentler, but how could he, especially after she finally admitted she is enjoying his attention?

She gasped and leant back her head, surprised by his sudden gesture. He slipped both his hands in her hair, keeping her close, as she tightened her grip on his shoulders.

“You're addicting, kiddo.” He whispered so lowly, he almost wished she couldn’t hear his slip.

He pulled back and smirked as she saw her with her eyes closed, trying to reach his lips again, before she opened them and looked at him, her head turning red tomato.

“Was it bad?” He smirked and pulled her immediately back as she moved to sit further from him. He wrapped one arm around her back as his other hand caressed her cheek again.

“Tell me, kiddo, did you like it or not?” He asked her again, looking at her as she shied away pursing her lips, not wanting to answer his question.

“Don’t you want to let me know if I did well, mh?” The hand on her cheek slipped again in her har, as he massaged her scalp with his fingers.

“I– I did…” She mumbles softly, embarrassed. He smiled even more as he pressed his forehead on her temple so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you want more kisses?” He asked her, feeling her shiver at the idea. “I don’t mind, we can, kiddo, we are free.”

She turned her head towards him, so that they were face to face, forehead against forehead.

She pressed her lips together, thinking hardly, as she stared at his lips.

That sight of her, could make his cock hard in a moment.

But he contained himself. He gave her her time, waited for her to move first.

“Free?” She repeated, wanting to be sure that he was telling her the truth. He closed his eye and pressed his forehead against her.

“Free, kiddo.”  He opened his eye again, and saw her look up at him, leaning forward a moment, but then going back. At last, she decided, and she pressed her lips against his, like if she was giving him a peck on his lips. Aemond smiled and moved his lips to make her open her mouth so that he could finally slip his tongue in her mouth, tasting her again after a week. He groaned and pushed himself more against her, making her back up.

“My sweet kiddo.” He groaned as he pushed her back even more, he wanted to make her lay on the grass, and get on top of her.

He wanted to touch her, but he restrained himself.

He wanted to take all of her on the grass, under the sunset, here in the open air where no one could hear them, and he could make her yell as much as he wanted to.

That would be such a sweet way to take her virginity.

But he did not allow himself to touch her, or he was sure he would have not stopped at her request, and as much as appealing all of his thoughts were, he couldn’t.

Once they were both lying, he rested one of his arms over her head as his other arm took her hand and intertwined their fingers, hoping to resist the urge to touch her body.

He kept kissing her like a mad man, biting her lower lip slowly, just like he wanted to do when he saw her earlier bite her own lip. He nibbled it between his teeth, pulling it slightly, making her moan. He smirked and let go of her.

“Make that sound again for me.” He kissed her again devouring her, as he kept squeezing harder her hand, in a way he knew was starting to hurt her, but he couldn’t stop kissing her, so he tried to not squeeze her hand too much.

She suddenly pulled away from him, making him furrow his eyebrows, he pulled her back into another kiss, but she turned her head again, rolling or her stomach.

“I lost track of the time!” She explained, worried, reaching her phone on the grass close to them. Aemond groaned, letting her go but keeping still on top of her. He leant his head down, resting her forehead on the back of her head, as at her every move her bum brushed dangerously his crotch. 

“I gotta go, Aemond, my brothers and sisters will be back in a few minutes…” She explained to him, saddened, looking back at him.

He growled and kissed her shoulder, rolling on her side then getting up.

“Yeah, let’s go, kiddo, I’ll drive you home.” He gave her his hand and she grabbed it to lift herself up as well, so he pulled her against his chest again kissing the top of his head, making her chuckle embarrassedly and blush.

He smirked, amused by her ever consistent shyness and rubbed the top of her head as he started walking to his car, a few meters from them.

They walked to the car in silence, but it was fine, they always had a comfortable silence between them. Sometimes when she called him during work and he was in his office, they talked for a while, then they just stayed on call in silence, just enjoying knowing that the other was there.

They got in the car and she watched outside her window, mesmerized by the sight of nature.

“How’s your little garden, kiddo?” He asked as he glanced at her.

“Colin took half of the tomatoes off before they were ready.” She sighed. “But I managed to stop him in time. My lemon tree is about to give me three lemons, I think I’ll make some jam or a pie.” She smiled at him. ”I’ll surely bring you some of those.” 

“We’ll eat it together.” He nodded as they quickly arrived at her house. He stopped the car and looked at her, then he quickly got down and went to open her door.

She got out chuckling and jumped up in front of him.

“My mother will be working late next week…” She blushed as she looked up at him. “I’ll text you the day and the time?” She looked at him, hopeful. Aemond smirked and caressed her cheek.

“Of course, kiddo.” He assured her, and she smiled happily.

“Alright then…” She looked to the side for a moment, then she suddenly turned and gave him a quick peck on his lips, leaving him stunned as she ran away chuckling.

“I’ll text you!” She laughed as she ran smiling toward her house, looking back at him.

He’ll never let her go.

He would get rid of anyone who might try to get between them.

There was no way someone would ever steal such a sight from him.

Her hair swayed at every step she took, her dress skirt moving in waves.

He stared at her until he was no longer able to see her. He lit himself a cigarette and turned, acknowledging a person standing a few meters from him.

“Are you looking for someone?” A woman, over middle age,  her hair a mix of blonde, white and gray strings.

“No.” He said coldly, annoyed to have been caught. “Just looking for a holiday farm, guess I picked the wrong turn.” He gave a quick, plausible explanation, enough to not make her suspicious about him.

“Yeah, it happens a lot.” She turned and pointed to another house, distant but visible from where they were. “You’re probably looking for that holliday farm? You take that way, then you turn left, then all straight.” She explained to him. He nodded in comprehension.

“Thank you, have a good night.” He got in his car and quickly drove off, looking at the rearview mirror to see if the woman stood there looking at him.

She got back in her car, and drove home.

Her home.

She was her foster mother.

Now she knew what he looked like.

He just lied to her, and if she was ever to find him around again, she will immediately remember.

“My mother will be working late next week… I’ll text you the day and the time?” 

He didn’t want to say no.

But if her mother saw him…

“Fuck!” He yelled as he hit the steering wheel. It was not going as he planned, and he hated it.

If her mother saw him with her daughter, she would immediately think of this night, and scare her away from him.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

He will not let that happen.

He could make her disappear.

Fuck, that was… an idea, but not a good one.

All he knew was that he couldn’t lose her. 

Ever.

He’ll find a way.

One way or another.

Tag: @zenka69 @blaustappen @julczimozart @diannnnsss @i66cilla @queenofthekeep @summerposie @tssf-imagines @vaylint @sweet-nothings-s @esposamultifandom @av989436751 @ladythornofrivia @xcinnamonmalfoyx @deliaseastar @kotadislikesthissite @nebulamorada @madelynwalt @shari-berri @seraphdayiwah @witchy-jadda @odeioemail @alphard-hydraes-blog @isntitdelicatevivi @famousrebeldaze @ssnapsaurus @paigeestrawfordd @mamawiggers1980 @aemondracarys @aegonswife

[toxophilitis]

Spread, Auntie, Spread cont

CHAPTER SIX

There was really no place for Janice and Stevie to play at Lori's house. It was a small place, with hardly a back yard to speak of. She would not allow them in front because of the heavy traffic.

That left only the inside of the house for them.

But they didn't mind that.

It was noon, and Janice and Stevie were eating a sandwich and drinking milk while sitting on the floor of the living room. They were drawing on sketch pads Lori had bought them the evening they went out to eat.

Peering over their shoulders, Lori smiled to see Janice had drawn a man with an impossibly enormous cock. She had drawn in little bubbles to indicate the man was coming. Stevie's picture was of a woman, her legs wide, and a surprisingly realistic cunt was revealed, with curly hair and even the clit.

The two fitted the pictures together so it looked as if the male figure was coming on the woman's cunt.

"You two keep drawing," Lori said. She remembered she had promised them ice cream, but there was none in the house. "I'm going to run down to the market and buy ice cream, okay?"

"Sure, Aunt Lori," Janice said, starting on another drawing.

Lori went out into the warm sunlight, her tight shorts revealing her creamy thighs. She wore a shirt, tied in a knot beneath her tits. Her asscheeks writhed enticingly as she walked the few blocks to the market. She was surprised to find the market crowded. She selected the ice cream they wanted and then stood for some time in the check-out line.

By the time she was outside the market, she had become very nervous. There was something urging her to get home, some vague feeling that she could not explain.

By the time she was half a block away, she was walking fast.

When Lori entered her house, she stopped, gasping, almost dropping the ice cream.

Marty was there and sitting on his lap was Janice, Marty's pants were discarded on the floor, and Janice had thrown her clothing over the arm of the chair they were sitting in. Janice was straddling Marty, facing him with her hands on his shoulders, and her naked little ass was bouncing happily up and down.

Lori stared in shock at Janice's little ass. She could see Marty's huge cock enter that small cunt as Janice bounced. At Marty's feet sat Stevie, his cock in his hand as he watched his sister's ass bouncing up and down.

Lori started to yell at them, but the sudden twitch between her thighs cut her off. She leaned against the door, her eyes blazing, her hand pressed hard into her pussy.

Lori was coming!

This is insane, she thought with a burning, numb mind. I'm watching my niece fuck Marty, and I'm standing here coming!

She became aware of Marty's gaze on her, and he was grinning. His hands now held the small cheeks of Janice's ass while the little girl fucked up and down. Lori saw how Janice's fine, sweet cunt was stretched about his thick cock. Another orgasm started boiling inside her pussy.

"Oh, God!" she whimpered. "Oh, God!"

Stevie turned to see his aunt as she slowly slid to the floor, her hand pressed tightly between her thighs. He stopped jacking his cock, but gripped his prick hard.

Janice was twisting her naked little ass in a frenzy, gurgling that she was coming. Lori saw, through a heavy erotic fog, her niece's small body as she shuddered in orgasm. Lori sat on the floor, her knees up and wide apart, her hand pressing hard into her cunt. Dark curls of her pussy hair stood out of the tight crotch on each side.

"What's... what's going on here," Lori finally asked, her voice trembling. Surprisingly, she was not angry.

Lori watched her niece lift her gripping little cunt from Marty's still-hard cock. Janice stood at his side, a giggle coming from her. "I just fucked Uncle Marty, Aunt Lori," she said.

"He isn't your uncle," Lori said. "He isn't even..."

"That's what they call me," Marty said. "To them, I'm Uncle Marty."

Lori struggled to her feet, the ice cream forgotten as it melted on the carpet. She looked from one person to another, and when they gazed back at her with wide eyes filled with excitement, she suddenly laughed.

"I should have known it would happen," she said. "After last night, I should have known you'd fuck Janice."

Marty laughed. "Are you kidding, Lori? Hell, I wasn't here two minutes before she had her panties off and was on my cock! Don't blame me, baby."

Lori glared at him, then stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. She slammed the door in anger. But the door was quickly opened and she whirled to face her nephew.

"Don't be mad, Aunt Lori," he said. "It wasn't Uncle Marty's fault."

"Stevie," she said evenly. "There could be a lot of trouble about this."

He came to his aunt and put his arms around her, burying his face into her tits. She hugged him tightly against her body. She didn't blame Stevie or Janice, they were young. It was Marty she blamed. He should have better control over his Goddamn cock.

She felt her nephew's hands drop lower on her back and then he was cupping her asscheeks. She could not resist pressing her tits into his face. She reached up with one hand and pulled the knot, causing her shirt to open. As soon as her tits were naked, Stevie began sucking her nipples, going from one to the other. She could feel his hard-on pressing against her thigh, and her pussy was throbbing again.

Forgetting about Janice and Marty in the living room as her passion increased, she stepped from her nephew and quickly stripped her tight shorts away. Stevie shoved his opened pants down, and she drew him to the bed, sprawling back onto it. She turned to her nephew, grabbing his hard-on and pumping his prick with a tight, hot fist. Her tongue slithered into his mouth as she jacked his cock, his hands running up her thigh to feel her hairy, wet cunt.

"Ohhh, Stevie," she moaned thickly. "Oh, God, baby! I need your cock! I want you to fuck me, Stevie! Oh, please, honey, fuck me! Fuck your Aunt Lori's hot cunt -- now!"

Lori turned about swiftly, bringing her knees underneath her body and presenting her naked ass in the air. "This way, baby!" she urged, waggling her creamy ass. "Fuck me this way!"

Stevie climbed to his knees behind his aunt's writhing ass and pressed the head of his swollen cock to the hairy lips of her burning cunt. Lori reached between her thighs quickly and grabbed his prick, bringing his cock to her pussy and then mewling as his prick slipped into her cunt.

"Oooo, do it, do it!" she groaned, arching her ass against him. "Fuck that cunt, Stevie! Ohhh, please, fuck that hot cunt!"

Mindlessly, Lori twirled her ass as Stevie began fucking in and out, driving his cock deep. He gripped her hips tightly, gasping in his efforts. He gazed down between the creamy crack of her ass, watching her tight, hairy cunt pull at his cock.

Excited mewls bubbled from Lori as she shook her naked ass, thrilled to have Stevie's cock fucking so deliciously into her boiling pussy. She placed her head on the bed, reaching between her thighs for his swinging balls. She cupped them and pressed them against her hard, throbbing clit. Her burning cunt sucked mid nibbled at Stevie's cock as he fucked in and out, his stomach bouncing against her creamy, hot asscheeks.

Lori's mind tumbled with erotic, ecstatic thoughts as she shoved her ass back and forth fucking him as much as he was fucking her. Her nipples brushed at the sheets of the bed, tingling as her tits swelled.

Squealing and whimpering with delight, Lori banged her ass back against her nephew's fucking cock. She could feel, as always, an explosive orgasm boiling deep inside her stomach. She churned her ass in the air, whimpering unashamedly.

"Ohhh, God! I'm going to come, baby!" she yelped in a tight voice. "Fuck it... fuck that hot cunt! Oh, Stevie, fuck that sweet cock up Aunt Lori's cunt! Oooo, you're going to make my pussy come, baby!"

Stevie fucked harder and faster, digging his fingers into his aunt's creamy hips, grunting as his own orgasm boiled inside his balls.

Lori's cunt squeezed at his fucking cock as she gurgled loudly, her naked upturned ass a blur of speed. Her orgasm exploded.

She felt her nephew draw his cock from the clutch of her pussy but was too weak to lower her ass. She continued to rest there on the bed, her beautifully shaped ass naked and inviting, lifted high. Her eyes were closed, and she was enjoying the warmth of pleasure glowing in her body.

What she didn't know was that her niece and Marty had been standing in the doorway. They had stood there and watched it all. Marty's cock was out of his pants, and Janice was holding his prick happily.

Marty and Janice entered the room and were near the bed before Lori became aware of them.

"Oh!" she gasped in surprise, turning quickly and grabbing for the sheet to cover herself. Her face was red, showing her embarrassment. Marty, Janice, and Stevie laughed.

"A little late for embarrassment, isn't it, Lori?" Marty laughed, tugging at the sheet as she held it tightly over her thrusting tits. "Come on, stop hiding behind the sheet..."

"Marty, you... I... oh, damn you!" Lori snapped.

"Oh, knock off the innocent shit," Marty said, not at all in anger. "It's time to stop this bull-shit game playing, Lori."

"Game playing, what are you talking about?" He sat on the edge of the bed, letting her keep the sheet tight about her neck. He pulled, a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, looking at her. His cock was visible, and Lori lowered her gaze to his prick. She saw her niece sit beside Marty, and her small egger hand reached out and gripped his thick cock. Lori lifted her eyes to Janice and saw the hungry smile on her young face. She turned to Marty again.

"What the hell are you talking about, Marty?" she demanded.

"You don't know, do you?"

"If you don't tell me right now, I'll..."

Stevie and Janice giggled, and Marty sat looking at Lori, blowing smoke. Stevie sat next to his aunt, and, when she felt his hand creep up and mold about her tits, she shoved his hand away.

"No, Stevie," she said sharply. "I want to know what the hell is going on, and I want to know damned quick!"

"That isn't up to me," Marty said.

"What isn't up to you?"

"You'll have to talk to..." he paused and thought better of what he was saying. "I'm sorry, Lori. I can't say anything."

"Goddamn you, Marty!" Lori spat. She forgot, in her anger, to cling to the sheet. It fell from her tits, and she sat there shaking in anger, her creamy tits jiggling. "I think you better go, Marty."

"Oh, Aunt Lori!" Janice squealed, holding Marty's cock tightly, possessively. "Let Uncle Marty stay!"

"I said go, Marty!" she said, ignoring her niece.

He got to his feet, stuffed his cock into his pants, looked at her for a long moment, then left. As soon as she heard the front door close, Lori broke into sudden tears.

Both Janice and Stevie began to caress her, trying to soothe her with soft words and strokes of their hands. Lori felt their small hands going over her back, at her sides, fondling the softness of her thighs, then at her tits. She lay back, and, as soon as she did, Janice leaned over and started running her tongue over the creamy swell of one tit, her brother doing the same thing to Lori's other tit.

Soon she stopped crying and was writhing underneath those hot, wet mouths and tongues, pleasure streaming through her again.

Both Janice and Stevie were on their hands and knees, and Lori slipped her hands along their flesh until she was holding her nephew's cock in one hand and rubbing her niece's cunt with the other. Those hungry little mouths were sucking and licking at her sensitive nipples harshly but eagerly. Ripples of ecstasy flowed through Lori's body, making her shiver. She jacked Stevie's cock and slipped a finger into her niece's cunt. Her ass writhed on the bed, her long, smooth legs wide.

"Oooo, babies, babies!" she gurgled, arching her ass up and twisting. Her cunt began to quiver and itch and burn, once more very wet. "Oh, suck on my tits! I love it... suck my fucking tits!"

Her hand pumped faster on Stevie's cock, and the finger of her other hand fucked quicker into Janice's tight, sweet, slippery pussy.

As they sucked her tits, both brother and sister moved their hands up and down their aunt's shivering stomach. Lori felt fingers tracing the curls of her thick cunt hair, then the fingers were gently feeling the puffy lips of her pussy. She raised her ass higher and twisted her crotch against those fingers.

"Ohhh, both of you," Lori gurgled. "Both of you, stick your fingers up my cunt! Please, Stevie... Janice, I want both fingers inside my hot cunt! Fingerfuck my hairy pussy, both of you... at the same time!"

Lori felt their fingers slip into her cunt and as one fucked in, the other came out. The fingers alternated this way, making Lori tremble with the sensation. Her cunt was flexing on their fingers, and Lori could feel an orgasm boiling away inside her again.

"Ooo, yes, yes!" she yelped. Her hips twisted furiously as they finger-fucked her, and their hot mouths sucked greedily at her sensitive tits. "Oh, God! You two are making me... making me... come! Ohhh, there! I'm coming, damn it! Ohh, I'm coming! Harder... fuck my cunt harder!"

Those two fingers fucked in a blur of speed as Lori came, her pussy tightening and relaxing around their fingers. Lori was so wrapped up in her own orgasm that she plunged her finger deep into her niece's cunt and held it there, no longer fingerfucking her. She squeezed hard at her nephew's cock, no longer jacking on it.

When her orgasm receded, she lowered her still-trembling ass to the bed, their fingers pulling from her pussy with a soft sucking sound.

With a squeal of delight, Lori quickly shoved her nephew onto the bed and knelt over his upstanding cock. She grabbed his prick in her fist and began to race her tongue about his dripping piss hole, licking his swollen cockhead. Janice stared with hot eyes, watching Lori's tongue move on her brother's cock, then she swung her legs over and pressed her sweet, hairless cunt into his face.

"Eat me, Stevie!" Janice yelped in a hot voice. "Eat my cunt! Tonguefuck me up my cunt, Stevie!"

Lori, hearing her niece, peered up his body. She saw Janice's sweet, round ass twisting as it lowered into Stevie's mouth. Lori watched his tongue slip out and lap up and down the crack of his sister's pussy. Seeing Janice grinding her succulent cunt into her brother's mouth. Lori opened her own mouth and sucked her nephew's prick deep. The few hairs at the base of his cock tickled her lips and chin, and she began to suck up and down furiously, hungrily, sucking sounds coming from her tight, hot, wet lips.

"Ooooo, ohhhh!" Janice was whimpering as she twisted and pressed her pussy against her brother's sucking, licking mouth. "Oh, Stevie, lick my cunt! Tongue my pussy... eat me! Mouth fuck my hot, wet cunt!"

Lori gobbled furiously at his throbbing cock, her eyes burning on her niece's creamy little ass as she twisted in mindless excitement. She wanted her nephew to spurt his thick, delicious come juice into her mouth with a burning desire. Her tongue raced around his prick as she sucked up and down with her hot, slippery lips.

The throbbing hardness of his cock thrilled Lori. She loved the way his prick felt as her lips clung to his cock, her mouth stuffed. Her lips tingled in ecstasy, and she was grinding her bubbling pussy against the bed as she sucked him in a frenzy.

Stevie, his hands now cupping the shaking cheeks of his sister's ass, began to fuck his cock up and down into his aunt's devouring mouth. Lori gazed hotly as he squeezed at his sister's asscheeks, and closed her lips tighter yet around his throbbing prick.

"Ohhh, I'm about to come, Stevie!" she heard Janice cry. "I'm gonna come, Stevie! I'm gonna come in your cunt-sucking mouth! Lick it faster! Fuck your tongue deeper! Oooo, I'm coming now! Oh, Stevie, feel my cunt coming! Taste it, Stevie! Taste my cunt... I'm coming!"

Lori began to suck furiously on her nephew's cock as she stared with blurred vision at her niece's ass, that creamy, naked ass shuddering as Janice came against Stevie's greedy mouth.

Her eyes became glassy as she tasted the first squirt of her nephew's cock. The thick, creamy come juice bubbled from his flaring piss hole and coated her licking tongue, and Lori banged her cunt down hard against the mattress, her turn convulsing as her mouth was filled time and again by his come juice. She gurgled and swallowed hungrily, her lips racing up and down his gushing prick.

After Stevie stopped coming, Lori held his cock in her hand, running her tongue over his prick gently. She watched her niece pull, from his face and sit on the bed, leaning against the headboard, her knees up and legs wide apart. She could see Janice's tender, sugary cunt still pulsate and twitch.

"Beautiful, baby," she said, and shoved her face into Janice's cunt, kissing the still-wet, still-quivering pussy of her niece. "God, you two are the most beautiful kids in the whole fucking world!"

They giggled as she sprawled out on the bed. Both Stevie and Janice snuggled up next to her, Lori held them in her arms, feeling their warm breath against her firm tits.

As she became drowsy, she realized her anger against Marty was not justified. She still felt he had no business fucking Janice, but never once had she considered her own involvement with them.

She felt something else, too. It was a feeling she had not associated with Marty, a feeling of affection that was much different than sexual desire.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK | Some Time Later

Just when you think everything is changing, you begin to see that it’s really the exact same as it’s been all along.

Read Poolsides & Pizza Boxes here

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: brief mentions of sex, brief mentions of drinking, swearing, and lots of fluff!

I received a lovely little ask and I couldn’t help but write a little blurb 🤍 I love you guys more than you know!!

“That’s just about everything, trouble.” Jake let out a long breath, landing a firm hand atop the cardboard box he just placed on the table. “Everything upstairs is cleared out, and it seems like we got everything that was down here, too.” He continued, his eyes briefly scanning the kitchen as he spoke.

“I think I’m gonna miss this place.” You said, an air of sadness in your tone. “It was my first house, you know? I made it into a home, even if it wasn’t for very long.”

“You did.” He nodded, his eyes settling on his face as he tried to decipher the emotion in your features. “But it wasn’t your first house. Technically, you're moving back into your first house.”

“No, that’s different.” You shook your head, your lips twitching into a small smile. “That was your house; I was just staying there.”

“No, you were living there.” He corrected, taking a step towards you. “That house has always been yours just as well as mine.” He said, brushing the baby hairs away from your forehead as he gave you a soft smile. “Now, it’ll really be ours.”

“I like the sound of that.” You hummed, stepping forward and wrapping a single arm around his torso. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you let your eyes flutter closed. “You think the guys are mad at me for making them help me move again?” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head immediately after the words left your lips.

“They’d never be mad at you, trouble. Plus, it gives them an excuse to day-drink and eat takeout.”

“They do that anyway.” You grinned, turning your head upwards to face his. He let out a small noise, not responding with words but very clearly agreeing with your thoughts.

It had been just shy of half a year since you and Jake started dating. The high emotion of the fateful night opened a whole new door for the two of you, and it didn’t take long for you to grow comfortable in a relationship, just the same as you did as friends. Now, he was spending nearly every night at your house, or vice versa. As adults, you’d come to the conclusion that paying two mortgages when one house was mostly vacant was a stupid idea. You were burning money the longer you lived apart, all while going through the motions of cohabitation.

A few weeks prior, Jake slipped the idea in your mind of moving in with him. At first, you brushed it off with a laugh, not taking him too seriously. Then, he brought it up again at dinner, striking the irrefutable idea. He liked your house; loved it, even, but his was bigger, and yours would need more work done to it as the years went on. You had lived there before, and you had both been under the general impression that the two of you were going to last. You felt no need to go through the classic motions of dating, because you’d been doing it all without the sexual intimacy for your entire lives.

So you thought about it for a day, but you didn’t need much longer than that to agree with his proposal. You both figured you could fix it up a little more and host an open house to show all the renovations it received, and once it sold, you’d move in with him. The process only took about a month total, and before you knew it, your life was packed up in boxes again and you were hopeful it would be for the last time.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just too sentimental.” You shrugged, your sad eyes glancing out the patio door to your backyard. “We put so much work into this place. I got the expensive wood floors Sam liked so much, and we built a pool, Jake.”

“Do you want to move in with me, trouble?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. If you were to disagree, he wouldn’t be angry about it. It was more or less a question to ensure your comfortability, to make sure that he didn’t pressure you into something you did not want to do.

“Of course I do, Jake.” You said, finding it near blasphemous that he even had to ask. “I love living with you, and I want to do it. Besides, even if I didn’t, it would be a little too late to back out now.” You smiled.

“Then what is it?” He asked, relieved to hear the words. “Why are you so hesitant?” You stayed silent for a moment, your lips dipping down into a slight frown.

“I guess…” you trailed off, your stomach twisting with nerves for a reason completely unapparent to you. “We happened here, Jake. Everything started here, in this kitchen, and that pool. I guess I’m a sucker for sentimental stuff, and that was the best day of my whole life. Is it weird that I don’t want to let that go? I don’t want strangers living in this house, especially when it’s so important to me. We’ll never get to see this place again, and I guess that does make me a little sad.”

“No, it isn’t weird, trouble.” He said, pulling away from you slightly so he could turn to face you. He lifted your chin with his index finger, forcing you to hold his gaze. The warmth of his brown eyes seemed to wash away all of your troubles, and you felt ridiculous for ever being upset at all when you had someone like him around. “This place is important, and it’s special to me, too. I think of that night every time I walk in this kitchen, trust me.” His tone changed as he spoke the last sentence, like the thought alone was working him up. A smirk was plastered on his lips and his eyes glazed over with a now overly familiar emotion to you. You rolled your eyes, landing a playful smack on his arms.

“Gross, Jake.” You laughed.

“Shut up, you think about it too.”

“Well duh.” You shot back. “But I don’t think about it like that.”

“Don’t lie to me, trouble. I know that’s not true.” He said, cocking his head to the side as he waited for you to confirm his words.

“Okay, yeah, fine. I do.”

“Right.” He laughed. “Point is, sweetheart, I’m sad to let go of that, too. You’re not stupid for feeling that way, because I’ve been thinking about it all day. But,” he said, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. “We’re going to make so many more memories, some that might be even better than the one we made that night, in our house, together.” He reminded you. “So yeah, it sucks when one chapter ends, but we’ve got at least ten more in this lifetime, right?”

“Right.” You nodded against his gentle hold, leaning upwards to meet his position. His nose brushed over yours, the slight touch sending a shiver down your spine. Still, months later, he managed to make you weak just by existing. “New memories, and a new life. It’s going to be great.”

“It is.” He whispered, his eyes heavy lidded as he fought the urge to kiss you. “We’ve got the whole world in our hands, trouble. Let’s do something with it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, unapologetic about how immersed you were in him, in the moment. With that, he leaned down and placed a small kiss on your lips. It still took your breath away and made your head spin, and he still tasted as sweet as he did the first time he ever kissed you. The only tragic part about kissing Jake was the fact that it had to end, and you couldn’t spend the rest of your life with him, exactly like that. When he parted with you, you held him close for a moment, not ready to grieve the ending of the moment just yet. “I am going to miss that pool. I know I gave you a hard time about it, but I love it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. That’s why I did it in the first place.” He explained, pulling your hips into his, showing you he was just as happy as you to stay in the position. “Which is also why I have a couple guys at my house right now, surveying the backyard so they can start on ours tomorrow.”

“What?!” You exploded, taking a step back from him. “Jacob Kiszka, you did not!” You tried to wrap your head around the fact, floored that he loved you enough to build you not one, but two pools.

“Yeah, I did.” He laughed, hanging his head low as his shoulders shook with laughter. “But it was a little selfish, this time. It wasn’t just for you, it was for me, too.”

“I can’t believe you.” You laughed, shaking your head at the man before you.

“Well, you better start believing sweetheart, cause this is what the rest of your life is gonna look like.” He grinned. “Now we have our own pool, and I can fuck you in it whenever I want.” Your cheeks burned red and your heart sped at his words, realizing that his intent this time really was a bit selfish. You couldn’t be too upset about it, because you knew you would enjoy that part just as much as he would.

“Right, so now that that’s settled, you ready to get going?” You asked, trying to quickly brush over the topic. You couldn’t focus on it for too long, because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else for the rest of the day.

“Yeah, s’long as you are.” He said, giving you a smile.

“Okay.” You let out a sigh, looking around the room. Tomorrow, new owners would have the key to the front door, and the most exhilarating and beautiful chapter of your life would come to an end. At the same time, you couldn’t be too sad about it because you knew it would only open the door to an even better future. “Let’s hit the road, then.” You said, giving a sad smile.

“Sure.” He nodded, but made no move to leave. You furrowed your eyebrows, curious as to why he seemed so reluctant to leave, now.

“Spill, Jacob.” You said, taking your turn to pry into his brain. He swallowed hard, tapping his foot against the floor as he tried to phrase his words correctly.

“How about we wait, just a little while longer?” He offered, his eyes glancing around the room.

“Why would we do that?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He gave a slight shrug, his hands resting in the pockets of his jeans as his gaze finally landed back on your face.

“We could make one last memory in this kitchen before we have to leave.” He offered, waiting to hear your thoughts before saying anything else. “Up to you, trouble.” You slowly turned, your eyes landing on the kitchen table that started it all, and your lips quirked into a smile.

“One more, just for old times sake.” You nodded, turning back to him as you accepted his offer. A grin overtook his face as he stepped towards you, landing his hands on your hips and his lips on your own.

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, inviting him in even further, you finally understood what he was trying to tell you; it didn’t matter where in the world you were, not what house you lived in or how old you were. Memories would be plentiful, and perfection wouldn’t be a strong enough word to describe it. So long as you had Jake by your side, you would be happier than ever before.

[softsan]

˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut. ✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:  You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past. 

You felt all the air leave your lungs, your chest constricting as you tried to gasp for just one more breath. You heard the patter of your blood as it hit the hardwood floors.

“Y/N,” His desperate eyes plead. 

“What did you do to her?!” Your brother demanded, yanking against the chains that were secured around his wrists. 

“Good catch Taeyong!” One of your captors clapped his hand on Taeyong’s back.

You tried to lift your shoulders, but they refused to support the weight of your head. You were but a lifeless heap, carelessly discarded and left to slowly bleed out on the ground. The man’s sickening laughter echoed throughout the room, filling what was left of your heart with dread.  

“Do it,” His voice urged, “Kill her now.”

Present.

“Today will be different,” You stared at yourself in the mirror, “Today I will smile, and I’ll mean it.” Your eyes circled down to your neck, your confidence waning. 

“Come on!” Your roommate urged, “You can say it better than that.” 

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, “You make me say the same thing at the start of every semester.”

Your roommate clicked her tongue, looking up from her phone. “And I believe this semester is going to be fucking fantastic.” She pointed at your white dress that cut just above the knees. “Look, we’re both looking cuter than ever. We have a new apartment,” She pointed to the living room’s ceiling to exaggerate her point. “This is our second year at college, and you, my friend, are going to put yourself out there.”

You shook your head in dread. “I thought we agreed that in this household, you can be the party fiend, and I’ll be the one that spends her nights binging TV shows on Netflix.”

Your roommate Jen threw you a dirty look.

“Hey! Who else is going to keep the universe in balance.”

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “The world is not going to stop spinning on its axis if you go out once in a while.”

“I highly doubt that.” You mutter to yourself, earning a playful hit from your dear roommate.

You and your roommate Jennifer had been cohabitating with one another since you were both seventeen. Back then, it had been a struggle to find someone willing to share a space with a teenager. That coupled with the awful reputation your foster father and sister had garner for themselves, you weren’t exactly considered an ideal house mate. However, to your pleasant surprise Jen was equally in need of someone to cover half of her rent. 

You had somewhat known about Jen prior to living with her. She had been quite popular at your school, the social butterfly. Admittedly, you were a little suprised to hear she like you, had moved out on her own, yet you never pried. 

Despite, her cheerful demeanor, you sensed a sadness akin to your own. You were both content pretending the other didn’t have secrets they’d buried deep inside their pasts. 

The day had been too long, and the sight of a setting sun was a welcome one. A picturesque scene of pink and oranges painted the skies which backdropped Taeyong’s beloved city. 

“Let’s get a drink to cool down,” Johnny piped, securing his gun back in his trousers.

Mark looked over disapprovingly, “You know you should really invest in a holster.”

“Not a chance!” Johnny grinned, “Taeil will flip if I make another extravagant purchase this month.” 

Taeyong slightly shook his head, half-heartedly smiling. Taeil, his consigliere had only gotten on Johnny’s case after he bought two restaurants and three record stores on a whim. Johnny simply was dead set on never purchasing himself a holster.  

Mark discerning Johnny’s lame excuse, decided to play along, “If you’re tight on money, why don’t we drink at the crappy-looking place.” He pointed to a shabby, bar with rusted molding at the end of the street. 

Taeyong grimaced, he didn’t like spending too much time in disputed territory. The street they were standing on fell in a grey area, both claimed by him, the King of the North, and the terrible Black Crow of the West. 

“We should head back closer to base,” Renjun cut in, noticing Taeyong’s hesitancy.  

Taeyong had his own bars and hotels where he could drink and dine with complete ease. He saw no need to do so here. 

“Let’s do it,” Johnny exclaimed, pulling a protesting Renjun into a friendly headlock.

“It’ll be fine,” Mark reassured, nudging Taeyong’s shoulder. “Nobody’s that stupid to take on all four of us.”

“I’m here! I’m here!” You breathlessly apologized to your manager, reaching for a bar apron.

“It’s fine,” He assured, handing you a docket, “First day back?” 

You nodded, trying to catch your breath “It’s the first day, and I feel like I’m already behind on all of my classes.” 

“Well, tonight should be pretty standard for a weekday.” He commented, his eyes scanning the empty tables, “I’ll be up upstairs talking to a supplier but, give me a wave if you need me.” 

“Will do.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to be working the bar alone.

The 'Old Sand Bucket' where you worked was certainly past its prime. Its interior was outdated, half of the bar stools wobbled, and even the bar counter was unleveled. It just wasn’t a place that attracted a surplus of people. 

You pulled your first load of wine glasses from the dishwasher, lifting them into the bar to be polished.

The door to the bar chimed, “Welcome to the Old Sand Bucket.” You said, without looking upward. “What can I get you?”

Taeyong gave the bar a lengthy overview. It didn’t appear to be suspicious, just the opposite. The dated bar was completely unoccupied beside the humming bartender who was mindlessly polishing wine glasses.

He examined you like the rest, evaluating the level of threat you were. Your head stayed down, occupied with your task. You barely spared a glance at his boys, who began ordering drinks.

You wore a simple black shirt underneath a bar apron with the ‘Old Sand Bucket’ labeled on its front. Your hair was tied in a low ponytail, revealing the curvature of your neck. At its base was a silky black ribbon knotted in a neat bow. Other than being pretty, you didn’t appear to stand out. 

Taeyong hummed, satisfied the bar his boys wanted to drink at was nothing more than a dinky, uninspired establishment.

You heard another person pull out a wonky barstool, which made four people in your bar. Not bad, as you usually didn’t have customers come in until half past nine. 

You placed down a bourbon and coke to your left—a man’s voice offering you a quick thanks.

“What can I get you?” You asked, finally looking up at the last man.

“Whatever’s good.”

Your eyes widened, blinking repeatedly, willing the ghost of your past to disappear back to your nightmares.

This can’t be real. This can’t be him. Please. No.

But he didn’t. He sat in front of you. His bored expression faded as he caught you staring. You immediately dropped your face, your face burning.

Taeyong furrowed his brows, confused. The way you looked at him just then… It was as if you knew him. He wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be. The way you were mumbling your answers, your arms shaking as you reached to pour a shot of vodka.

You did the best you could to keep a low profile, keeping your face down, and distracting yourself with work around the bar. You wanted nothing more than to abandon your shift— your heart furiously pounding every time you heard one of their four voices address you. However, at around eleven there was an unusual influx of people (what you believed to be a bachelor’s night out), therefore you needed to power through your discomfort. 

You wavered for your manager to join you downstairs, while you stepped out of the bar and started clearing tables. 

Taeyong kept you in the corner of his eye, unable to shake the curiosity that brewed in his stomach.

“Give us a smile, love,” Slurred one of the drunken bachelors, who had stripped off his shoes and was now wearing one on his head. 

You complied, in order not to make a scene. You reached over his table to pick up one of the empty pints. You felt the irksome feeling of fingers brushing against your neck. You jumped back, dropping your tray. Your hands immediately shot to your neck, clasping where your black ribbon ought to be. 

The shattering of glass made Taeyong stand, interrupting Renjun mid-sentence. Your eyes were aflame with anger, your mouth parting in horror. You were trying desperately to conceal the base of your neck.

Without a second thought, Taeyong approached, pulling the drunken patron up by his wrinkled collar. The man began sloppily flailing, trying to make his pathetic getaway. 

Taeyong snatched the black ribbon out of his hand, before not so gently throwing him to the ground.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Taeyong stepped forward, extending his arm in your direction. 

You instinctively stepped back, your eyes narrowing on the black ribbon between his fingers. There was no way for you to reach for your ribbon without exposing your neck.

“You keep it.” You said as firmly as you could, turning your back to him.

He watched as you retreated to one of the back rooms, his interest in you only spiking.

You hid yourself in one of the alcohol storerooms, searching for something to cover up your neck. You resorted to some paper towels stained with raspberry syrup. It wasn’t one of your greatest ideas, but it seemed to work when your manager came bursting in.

“Where’d you go?” Your manager pressed, “You left broken glass for me to clean up by table fourteen.” 

"It accidently lock myself in the storage rooms again.” You lied.

Your manager sighed, ushering you out.

You did a quick scan of the bar, noticing the four men had since left. 

“What happened to you?” Your manager pointed to the paper towels and raspberry syrup. 

“Ah,” You pressed the wet paper harder against your neck, “A customer spilled a drink all over me.” 

Your manager shook his head, “Go home and clean up,” He signaled you to grab your things, “I’ll close up,”

Scattered, you thanked him and reached for your rucksack.

“Wait,” Your manager handed you an envelope, “Some guy left you a tip.” 

Who gives a tip in an envelope? You eyed it cautiously. 

You waited until you had turned a corner before you used your fingernail to pry apart the sealed envelope.

Inside was a one-hundred-dollar bill, your black ribbon, and a napkin that read 'Thanks for your service’. 

Taeyong kept his distance, hiding in the shadows. He watched you leave the bar, with your hand holding some paper towels to your neck. You use the other hand to tear open the envelope he’d left for you.

To his surprise, you barely acknowledged the bill—you were more interested in the black ribbon and the napkin. You stared at the napkin for a couple of minutes, your teeth grinding. You then scrunched it into a ball, throwing it onto the sidewalk with the envelope containing the hundred. You, however, kept the black ribbon.

Taeyong observed you as you slowly pulled the paper towels away, revealing a dark scar that wrapped around your neck... It was as if someone had strangled you with barbed wire. 

A flood of emotions went through him, sympathy, guilt, and finally, coldness. He couldn’t help but remember a young girl who had experienced a similar fate.

You had died many years ago. Or at least he thought so…

NETWORKS: -​

MONI’S NOTE: Woah! I cannot express how excited I am to dive back into this world. For those who don't know, this is an old fic of mine that I wrote like 5 years?! ago. I've decided to rework it and improve the story (also finally give it an ending). I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

TAGLIST: Let me know if you'd like to be added to this taglist!

© softsan - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[cressthebest]

so many people liked my last jegulily headcanons post, so i’m gonna continue doing the lord’s work 😌

• there's a big bookshelf in the living room with a mixture of regulus' books and lily's books. you can easily tell the difference between them. reg has hardback copies that are annotated with thin black fountain pen. lily has cheap paperback copies often bought secondhand, and she only allows the typical wear and tear. she refuses to write in her books, and instead will sticky note the pages.

• lily is demiromantic and it took a hot minute to realize she liked not only james but also regulus. (she lost her absolute shit. i'm picturing this video)

• james is an early riser and will get up to go workout before returning home to his sweethearts that are finally stirring, so after showering he'll often fix them breakfast in bed.

• on that note, autistic regulus refuses to eat anywhere but the table. his reasons list as: 1. good posture and digestion from sitting at the table 2. crumbs in bed are BAD 3. bed is for sleep, table is for eating. 4. idk it's just wrong to eat in bed. like, it's against the rules

• so reg has a little nightstand/side table in the room with a chair for him to eat at so he can eat at the table and lily can stay in bed (and james can join her)

• they are 100% the couple (throuple??) to have matching pajamas. by matching, i mean all the same fabric and pattern, not cut

• they send out obnoxious christmas cards together. james always sets the camera to take the perfect photos and chooses the poses. lily always chooses their outfits, the setting, and designs the cards. regulus is in charge of making sure it's sent out to every last person that they love (and hate)

• lily's parents were confused about her relationship and don't really understand it, but they hesitantly accept it and love her anyways even though they don't get it. and they absolutely adore james and regulus, happy to have some boys in the house

• james' parents took a minute to be cool with the relationship because they were worried that regulus and lily weren't quite happy with the polyamory before realizing that reg and lily were equally in love with each other and james

• both james and regulus gave sirius a key to the house, not realizing the other did that. lily, thinking that james and regulus wouldn't have thought to give sirius a key for emergencies gives him one as well. sirius now has three keys and doesn't tell this to jegulily

[middlingmay]

“Let me get this straight: You’re calling me at 3 am, disrupting my beauty sleep on a workday, to ask me out?" - for Buck and Bucky please!

Hello Anon!

Thanks for the request - this one was so fun to write. I hope you like it :)

They’d settled near each other, after the war.

On that Florida air strip, where Wisconsin lay one way and Wyoming another, it had taken root inside Gale: the life ahead of him with patient, wonderful Marge, who no man could ever deserve, had stopped driving him on, compared to the life behind him with John.

When Gale had turned up on John’s doorstep, all his bags in hand and asking if he knew of any rooms to rent in town, he’d gotten to enjoy the sight of Major John Clarence Egan speechless for the first time in his life.

Gale had achieved what the combined forces of the US military, countless missions, German fighter pilots and a POW camp could not.

John had tried to offer him a room at his house, but Gale refused. It would have been easy, so easy to say yes and slip unspoken into this something between them. But Gale was sick of it being unspoken. He wanted to do it right this time.

In the days following his arrival, they found Gale a place to live, and like John, he found himself a little part time job to keep him busy and keep him from plundering his savings from his military salary, which remained largely untouched and offered a pretty little nest egg should he ever need it. (But not for the little apartment he and John found for him; that was hopefully only temporary.)

In the weeks following his arrival, they spent time together doing up the parts of John’s house that had gone without care for a little too long, and making Gale’s apartment feel a little more like a home. They went to eat in restaurants and John showed Gale his favourite haunts (not all of them bars, he was pleasantly surprised to see). They drove and walked around, perfectly aimless for once in their lives.

But none of it, Gale thought, could have been constituted as a date. And Gale did so want to date John. He wanted to take him out and make him feel special and walk him to his door at the end of the night and see if he could be lucky enough to steal a kiss.

He just had to ask him. Because apparently John was a gentleman, following this thing at Buck’s pace.

Gale had almost asked him that first day he’d turned up tired and hungry and John had taken care of him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He’d almost asked him when John had dragged a heavy second-hand bookshelf up a flight of stairs to Gale’s apartment because he knew how Gale loved books and cleanliness in equal measure.

He almost asked him when Gale had a bad day and a worse evening, and John had steered them passed all the bars, up to Gale’s apartment, settled him with a poorly-made tea, and read to him from a physics book where he mispronounced half the words (Gale thought at least half must have been on purpose).

And now Gale was lying awake at some ungodly hour because he almost asked him.

Gale had been a cocksure pilot; one of the best, him and John. He had led squadrons of men in war, kept his guys together in a POW camp for a year and a half. He knew himself and what he was about. But here he was, flaking out, being a coward - a whole big pile of chicken shit - over John, who'd never made him feel anything but brave.

What kinda man was he?

Gale threw back the covers and hauled himself out of bed.

He was Major Gale W Cleven—Buck—goddamn it, and he could do this.

One of the selling points of his apartment had been its own private line. He padded out to the tiny lounge and picked up the phone and dialled the number he knew off by heart by now.

*

They were finally flying home, he and Buck. Just like he promised.

Gale grinned at him from the left. It was that grin he tried to hide sometimes, the one that showed off the apples of his cheeks and couldn't disguise his soft eyes when he looked at John.

When they both turned eyes front to enjoy the clear blue skies together that would take them home, Bucky saw them. The white far-off pinstripes of a hoard of incoming German fighters. But they were still a way off; they still had time. Buck still had time.

“Bail out, Buck!” They were so close to going home, he wasn’t risking Buck now.

But Gale just smiled at him. “Since when have you backed down from a challenge, Jon?”

The Germans were nearly on them.

“Gale! Go—get out! I’ll cover—!”

Gale petted the yoke unhurried. “Easy, Bucky. We’re safe as houses up here. Last two pilots left in the sky, just like you said.”

The Germans opened fire with a shrill ringing, ringing, ringing—

John bolted up in bed, chest heaving and heart beating hard and fast.

The phone was ringing.

He collapsed back onto the sheets. “Fuck.”

He almost let the phone ring out. It was fuck-knows-when in the morning. But then he remembered the very exclusive list of people who actually had his number, and he felt like he was jolting out of a nightmare all over again as he scrambled to catch it before it ringing stopped.

Buck. Buck might need him.

In the hallway, he snatched up the phone as soon as his fingertips grazed the smooth dark plastic. “H-hello?”

Whoever was on the other end was lucky to hear his voice over the thundering of his heart.

“It’s me, John.”

Buck. He knew it. “What is it?” He asked blunt and panicked. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’! Nothin’ John, I swear.” Buck exhaled slow. “Uh, I uh, god. I’m sorry; I wasn’t thinking.”

Sheepish. Buck sounded sheepish. He could work with sheepish. It wasn’t frightened, afraid.

“It’s fine, Buck,” he said. Heart finally getting under control. “C’mon, it’s fine. What’s on your mind?”

“I just, um. I was wonderin’. You promised me a baseball game. I was wonderin’ if I could take ya.”

Bucky frowned. Much as he was warmed by Gale remembering a promise he made what felt like a lifetime ago; and as much as something inside tingled and sparked at Gale asking him to one, he did wonder if Gale hadn't woken up from the same kinda dream as him. The kind that made it hard to fall back asleep and left you reaching for distractions.

But still, like hell he was going to pass up this kind of opportunity. “Well—well, yeah, Buck, of course. I'll take you to a game. “

“No.” Gale blurted too loud down the line. “No, I wanna take you. Like a…”

That tingling and sparking thing caught and used up John’s body like tinder. “Let me get this straight,” he sad faintly and cast a look at the hallway clock finally. “You’re calling me at three am, disrupting my beauty sleep on a work day, to ask me out?”

Maybe Gale’s blood was pounding as furiously as John’s, because that was the only reason he couldn’t have heard the delighted, tremulous, terrified disbelief in John’s voice.

Instead, Gale rushed out over the line, “No, no. I know. It was—God, I’m sorry, John. Go back to sleep. It was stupid—just—goodnight.”

John was left calling the dial tone Buck.

Stupid, Buck had said. Well, John felt everything he had ever wanted at his fingertips. If Buck wanted stupid, he would give him stupid.

It wasn’t far from John’s house to town, so he didn’t bother with a coat. He simply shoved a sweater over his undershirt and some boots on his feet and took off running.

By the time he got to Gale’s apartment building, the cool night had turned to fog, to a gentle spray, to a light rain. The thin pajama pants he wore started to stick, and his curls caught droplets of dewy moisture and sprinkled them on his face and neck.

He unlocked the door to the building with the key Gale had cut for him and headed straight for 1B. He knocked once and Gale didn’t answer within three seconds, so he let himself in the apartment, too.

The lights were out and Bucky headed for the bedroom, figuring Gale had gone back to bed to try and get some sleep. The curtains were thin and some strains of the street lights lit the room a little. John saw Gale, his back shoved against the wall, all bundled up like they’d never been able to do at the stalag.

He got close and gently shook his shoulder. “Buck. Buck.”

Gale woke quick and was upright in a second, eyes alert but mouth full and puffed up in sleep. “John? What’s wrong?”

Gale tried to get up out of bed but John pushed him back down. “S’okay. All good, Buck.”

“What are you doing here? It’s—”

“’Bout 3.20am. You never let me answer. On the phone.”

Gale cleared his throat and looked at his covers like they were some new textbook that demanded all of his attention. John smiled small and cheeky out of Buck’s sight and reached out to pluck up a strip of covers with his fingers to tease the material out of Buck’s grasp.

“Yes,” John whispered, smug and happy. “Obviously you can take me on a date.” He sat on the edge of Gale’s bed who now looked at him eyes wide and full of wonder. “But I want the whole nine yards: good seats, hot dogs, you desperately trying to follow along—the whole shebang.”

Gale smiled that same apple-cheeked smile from John’s dream. “You come all the way here in the rain to say yes to a question I chickened outta askin’?”

“Mhm,” John agreed cheerfully.

Gale laughed and collapsed back onto his bed. Only John’s damp clothes and the crumb of decorum he had left stopped him from collapsoing down with him.

“Thank you, John. I would love to take you out.”

“’Kay,” John said softly biting on his lip before collecting himself before it was too late. He stood up and slapped his hands on his thighs. “Well, g’night Buck. Sleep tight.”

He turned on his heels to make from the room and Gale called after him.

“John!”

John spun round, hand on the door jam. Gale looked at him, exasperated and fond.

“It is 3.30 in the morning. It’s rainin’. You can stay till morning.”

John shook his head, droplets spattering the wall. “You gotta wait for that, Buck. Your girl isn’t easy.”

Gale gave an amused huff and leaned his head back against the wall, before John’s words took root. He sat up at the gall of of the man and yelled through the open door. “Since when?!”

He heard John’s laugh even as the front door to his apartment swung closed.

[jgracie]

HOW YOU AND SINGER!LEO VALDEZ CAME TO BE ♡ for giselle ( @pinkdiorluvr ), HEAVILY inspired by dominic fike

masterlist | rules

in which you date america's (self proclaimed) favourite singer

pairing singer!leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings my lack of knowledge on how uni works sorry im only 16 i fear, matty healy reference UNFORTUNATELY iykyk (i hate that man so much guys trust)

on the radio . . . dominic fike's whole discography tbh but i made a small playlist

an listened to dominic fike and made this as a result… lmk if u want more of them 😊

You never thought you’d actually get into your dream university. Well, to be more specific, you never thought you’d get off the waitlist

When you first discovered you got waitlisted, you’d accepted your fate. Sure, you already had tons of merch and had been dreaming of your life in California for years, but not all dreams come true. You chose another school to commit to and began preparing for freshman year of university. Who gets off of waitlists anyway?

Apparently, you. As soon as you got the email confirming your spot, you thanked the heavens and immediately changed your plans, giddily packing all your merchandise and adding to your California themed Pinterest boards

Until you realised you had nowhere to live. None of your friends and family lived in California, and you really didn’t want to live in a dorm after all of the stories you’d heard about communal bathrooms (they’re my biggest fear actually). Unfortunately, it was either that or go apartment hunting and pray you could find a decent apartment that didn’t cost a fortune

Whatever, at least you got into your dream university in the end. Sharing a bathroom with a bunch of other young adults was worth it. After a few days of letting the news properly sink in, you called your childhood best friend Piper to tell her the good news

“Pipes, you won’t believe what happened!” You nearly yelled into your phone, excitedly pacing back and forth in your room. Putting her on speaker, you put your phone down and continued packing your bags

Piper hummed, pretending to think before replying with, “you finally got with a hot rockstar like you insist you will?” You huffed, rolling your eyes - she’d never stop teasing you

“No, even better!” You said, “I got into Jupiter University!”

Cue the squealing. Piper congratulated you a million times over, now pacing in her own room somewhere in Europe or Australia or wherever she was, you could never keep up with that girl’s travels

Your conversation went quiet for a second before Piper connected two very important dots, “wait… that means you’ll be moving to Cali, right?”

“Well, duh, how else am I supposed to get to class on time?” At your confirmation, Piper’s face lit up (not like you’d be able to see it)

“Oh my God, Y/N, this is perfect! I just moved back to California and my dad gave me this giant apartment all to myself, you can live with me!”

Okay, now, you were convinced some God was smiling down on you. You and Piper had toyed with the idea of living together ever since you were pre-teens, but you never thought that fantasy would ever actually come true

You moved in the following week

Living with Piper was a dream. The two of you were the same person in different fonts, so discussing boundaries and house rules was a breeze

As soon as you’d arrived, she took you to all her favourite places in California. Did this result in the two of you spending a disgustingly large amount of money? Maybe! But it was fun, so it didn’t really matter

She also promised to introduce you to all her friends, since she knew a couple people who were also starting at Jupiter University that fall. After much negotiation, you all had settled on meeting at a restaurant nearby in two weeks time, since you still needed to settle

Little did you know, you’d be meeting one of Piper’s friends earlier than the rest

Singer/songwriter Leo Valdez quickly rose in the charts after people fell in love with his unique music and his charming personality. All the hype had fueled his creativity and resulted in him releasing many albums in a very short amount of time

However, after every high comes a writer’s block, which is where Leo was at now. He wanted nothing more than to write and produce new music, but nothing seemed to inspire him - no matter how many walks he took or people he talked to, nothing good seemed to come out of him

His favourite person to mope to about his predicament was none other than Piper Mclean. He and Piper had met at some event his publicist forced him to go to a couple years ago and hit it off immediately, bonding over their dislike for how the industry worked and love of authenticity

So, after nearly breaking his guitar in frustration, Leo decided to pay Piper a surprise visit - 56th time’s the charm!

Meanwhile, you were making yourself a quick breakfast and typing up a quick grocery list. Turns out Piper had only moved back to California a couple days before you called her, so she didn’t have much to eat in her kitchen. You planned to surprise her with a variety of groceries as a little gift for her hospitality

Finishing off your list, you chose something random to watch and began eating your breakfast - well, almost

Before you could get a single bite in, someone loudly knocked on the door, disturbing your peace and causing you to nearly drop your bowl of cereal. You took a deep breath, deciding not to let this stranger ruin your day, and went to see who decided to visit Piper so early in the morning

Leo was expecting an aggravated, half-asleep Piper to open the front door, glaring at him whilst mumbling about him ruining her beauty sleep. Instead, he was met with the girl of his dreams, who looked him up and down before giving him a tentative smile

“Hello,” you said. The guy in front of you was kind of cute - brown curly hair, big brown eyes and a warm aura that radiated off of him. Something about him charmed you instantly

Fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, he said, “Uh, hi… Is Piper home?” Leo wasn’t usually shy, but you were too pretty and it was really early in the morning, he couldn’t help but lose eye contact with you

Moving to the side, you said, “yeah, she’s just asleep, but you can wait if you want.” How could he possibly turn around now?

Leo didn’t have to wait for very long, as Piper’s a very light sleeper. Hearing the conversation happening outside, she rolled out of bed, already knowing who her mystery guest is

“Leo, I see you’ve met my new roommate, Y/N,” she said, stifling a yawn as she made her way to where the two of you were sitting, “Y/N, this is my friend Leo Valdez - before you ask, yes, he’s that Leo. Please don’t feed into his massive ego.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, you didn’t know of any Leo Valdez. Biting your lip, you began recalling all your past conversations with Piper. Various names and stories came up, but no Leo

“Am I supposed to know who he is? Sorry, I can’t remember…” you said hesitantly, hoping he wasn’t that important

For a second, everyone was quiet, then Leo said, “you seriously don’t know? I’m America’s favourite singer! Have you never heard ‘Hey Blondie’ by me? Or ‘Açaí Bowl’?” At your silence and Leo’s exasperation, Piper laughed, which earned her a very nasty glare from America’s favourite singer himself

You shook your head, now feeling bad. You really didn’t want to offend this cute guy on your first meeting, “I’m sorry, but I’ve never listened to any of your music before… I’ll definitely check you out though!”

Leo was just joking with you, but even if he were upset, he couldn’t stay mad at your kind smile and determination to make it up to him. At the same time, he felt a wave of self consciousness wash over him - what if you didn’t like his music? Leo was usually pretty confident in his abilities, but he found himself needing to impress you

Luckily, you were the inspiration he needed to start writing a new album. When Leo got home, the words seemed to flow out of him in just the right way

After that day, Leo started showing up at your’s and Piper’s apartment much more often, except now it was to see you, not Piper. When she asked Leo about the increase in frequency of his visits, Leo made up some excuse about needing you to judge his songs since you were new to his music so your opinions would be less biased

However, Piper knew the truth. Leo was in love. Was that a bit of a bold statement considering he only knew you for a week? Maybe, but anyone who knew Leo knew that when he fell, he fell hard

You were charmed by Leo too. As the days progressed and summer leaves turned brown, you and Leo got closer and closer. You began going over to his apartment every once in a while, or hanging out at parks and cafes, all under the excuse of needing to help with his songs

Just like the leaves, Leo’s songs began to shift. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t help but write songs about you - you were on the forefront of his mind. Leo was enamoured by your bright eyes and kindhearted nature, it was only natural for him to begin writing songs about you

So, he embraced it. It was now nearing the one year anniversary of when the two of you met, so why not confess? If there was one thing Leo learnt from all the mistakes he made during his teen years, it was that there wasn’t much point in hiding things

However, he was Leo Valdez, the bad boy supreme himself, which meant he couldn’t just tell you outright. No, this had to be a special confession for a very special girl

Luckily, Leo was a pro at special confessions!

“Promise me you won’t listen to the album until the show, Y/N. I need you to get the authentic Valdez experience!” Leo told you over the phone. It was the night before the release of his new album and, to celebrate, Leo decided to host a quick and small show only a few minutes from where you lived - one you had front row tickets to

You thought this was a bit of a strange request but obliged, knowing how much this meant to Leo. At some point during his album-making journey, he started consulting you less. When you’d asked why, he said he wanted some of the songs on the album to be a surprise, which was fair enough, so you didn’t pry

Leo wasn’t lying: he did want some of the songs to be a surprise. Why? Well, because they were about you. Never in his life did Leo Valdez think he’d be writing love songs like the ones he wrote about you, especially after the horrible experience he had with his ex, Callie (wink wink)

When the night of the show came along, you and Piper got dressed and headed to the venue, matching VIP lanyards around your necks. You were really hoping to see Leo before the show and wish him luck, but Piper explained that Leo had his own special rituals to do before the show started so you weren’t going to see him. Oh well, you’d texted him a good luck message beforehand anyway

Leo rarely ever got nervous whenever he’d perform - he was used to it, after all. However, as he made his way onto the stage, his heart was beating the quickest and loudest it ever had. He scanned the crowds for your familiar head of hair, but unfortunately couldn’t spot you. However, he knew you were definitely out there

There’s no time better than the present. The crowd went silent as the first song started. The strumming of a guitar filled the venue, followed by a voice that wasn’t Leo’s

The song begun with a snippet of a voice message he’d received from you: “Fine, Leo, you’re so lucky I love you,” followed by a few giggles

Your eyes widened and at that moment, Leo finally saw you. As he looked into your eyes, everyone else disappeared. It was almost as if a show full of his biggest fans had turned into another afternoon spent in your room - you doing assignments while he played his guitar

“This is for you, I love you too,” he said, giving you a wink before beginning to sing

The rest of the concert was a blur. Was the album fantastic? Absolutely, it was one of the best you’d ever listened to. Unfortunately, you were too busy replaying that moment from the beginning of the show to be fully listening

You couldn’t believe Leo actually liked you back. You also couldn’t believe he liked you so much he was willing to announce it to the world - even though there were only a few people at his impromptu concert, the news would spread like wildfire

Somehow, you made it through the entire show without passing out. While everyone else proceeded to file out of the venue, you (and Piper) stayed behind. This conversation couldn’t wait a second longer than it already had

The security didn’t fight you as you made your way backstage, where Leo was busy tinkering with his instruments. Seeing him there as he hummed the tune of one of the songs he wrote just for you, you were filled to the brim with nothing but pure love

Piper stayed behind and watched as you ran to Leo, pulling him out of the trance his guitar pick had on him

“Hey,” he said, a goofy smile which matched yours making its way onto his face as you gave him what might’ve been the tightest hug he ever received. Leo breathed in the familiar scent of your shampoo and waited for you to pull away before saying, “I’m assuming you liked the show?”

Excitedly, you exclaimed, “liked it? Leo, I loved it! I’ve never seen anything like it!” While Leo was happy you enjoyed his concert, he still wasn’t satisfied. He needed you to acknowledge the opening song

The two of you stared at each other silently, waiting for the other to bring that up, both of you too nervous to say anything. Luckily, Piper wasn’t nervous

“Oh my God, guys, just say you’re in love with each other already!” She said, her voice cutting through the tension and allowing you to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You smiled at her then turned to Leo, your smile growing at the mere sight of him

Cupping his face, you said, “I love you more, Valdez.”

[grumpymirelurkqueen]

König with heart break but repair with your putty :

Pt2 | Pt3

Fem reader, angst, we can understand an age difference (26 - 37), European reader, free form reader, I tried, he may be corrected later, have a good read.

‘If you come back alive from this mission, I promise to start a family with you. My love.’ His wife whispered close to the shell of his ear.

It was the last sentence he heard from his wife that day.

Beautiful in a flowing summer dress on the threshold of their shared home. A simple image that made his heart swell like a balloon. The only thing missing was a child in his wife's arms. He left the warm and welcoming house with that something in mind.

Finally starting a family, she his wife who had always refused to have children. Rejecting with a wave of her hand ‘I'm a businesswoman not a housewife’ ‘I like my power as a strong woman too much for a child’. He was too much of a feminist to think there was anything else. So he gave her time. And she said this to him before leaving on a suicide mission. A surge of energy and determination swept through him.

But this feeling faded like smoke in the wind when he returned home, success in hand. Nothing. Nothing left. The house was empty, no furniture, no decor. No trace of his life with this woman.

At first he thought he'd come to the wrong house, but he was home. He couldn't believe his eyes, his heart was aching in his chest. It couldn't be true, she had promised him. How can you promise such a beautiful thing and then never fulfil it? A solitary tear stuck in the corner of his eye. He tried to step onto the steps of the doorway, a sadness without equal when he realised that she was leaving him. Without saying a word. Deep down he hoped she'd find a better man than him, one who could fulfil the desires he'd never been able to.

Too many memories in this house, memories falsely acquired. So he moved to a block of flats, not far from the barracks and far from the neighbourhood where he has friends. Ashamed, he couldn't look his neighbours in the eye when he handed over the key.

As if she never existed, König becomes the old König again. Prone to anxiety attacks, his fears gnawing at him and his new confidence problem. She had managed to cure him, or at least that's what he thought of her.

He's been living in a modest flat for six months now. Working morning, noon and night. No limits. Just him wanting to forget his ex-wife. Every time he came back from a short mission and lay in his cold bed. His thoughts went to his happy wife. Happy but not with him. He couldn't take it any more, so in the second month he decided to work until the last breath he could give. To keep his thoughts away from her.

It was the middle of November, when temperatures plummeted in Berlin. A young neighbour arrived on his floor. The first time they met, he paid her no mind. She was in the lift with a removal box in her arms and two others at her feet. The cold had turned her ears and nose red, which Köning noted innocently. She was wearing a complete arsenal to combat the cold, and he had deduced that she must be from one of the neighbouring countries. Over the years, König had become accustomed to this coolness, but he couldn't ignore the fact that even in his military uniform and bonnet, there was a constant chill in this faded old building.

Curious about her new neighbour, she hadn't noticed that her eyes had been on him a little too long. Feeling her eyes on him, König turned his head from the ground to see her smile shyly at him before burying her head in her scarf. She was intimidated by his icy blue eyes. He had paid no attention to his own cold, hard demeanour. Something he had never done before. He who had always been gentle and shy had become everything he hated.

Once the lift door opened, announcing their floors, König ran away from the poor young woman. Through this encounter, the woman understood certain things about her new neighbour. Things they both share, in different ways.

[drearycrow]

♥︎♡⊱─── ✟ ───⊰♡♥︎

Warning:Dark content,stalking, suggestive,implied abuse,implied non con,kidnapping,Fyodor is a piece of shit and so is Nikolai. Mdni

The computer screens flicker as the camera changes the angle every two minutes. Fyodor watches the screens intensely waiting for someone to show up. He sees you entering the hotel with a man. You cling onto his arm as you two walk towards the hotel room. Fyodor gets slightly irritated by the sight of it. He hates how you give the man kisses on the cheek or let him fondle you in the elevator. Fyodor is going to kill Nikolai if he keeps this up. His disguise is working perfectly. You don't even realize that it's Nikolai.

Fyodor is waiting patiently for Nikolai to complete the mission. All he has to do is bring you back to the hotel and kidnap you. It's an easy job. What he didn't expect is Nikolai to fuck you. Fyodor is furious that Nikolai tainted his precious doll into doing a sinful act. He continues to watch the ordeal unfold through the secret camera that he planted in the room before you got there. Fyodor wished that was him making you feel good instead of Nikolai.

After you fall asleep, Nikolai takes this opportunity to kidnap you and bring you back to Fyodor. You wake up in a familiar room. You immediately know where you are and how fucked you were. You didn't expect to end up back at your ex husband's house. Panic settled in and you try to find a way out. The windows are shut tight with locks and the door is locked from the outside. You lay in the bed that you used to share with Fyodor. He kidnapped you a few years ago when you were going home after staying in the college library late at night studying. He locked you up in his house not letting you leave whatsoever. Eventually he made you his wife after living with him for a year. He couldn't wait to be your husband so he rushed the wedding. Fyodor was happy that his precious doll was his wife. Eventually, you managed to escape his abuse and possessive behavior. The freedom you had after escaping was terrifying at first but as time went on, you felt happy that you were away from that monster.

Your thoughts get interrupted when you hear the door being unlocked. Fyodor stands there at the entrance of the bedroom with a deadly look on his face. Fear takes over you, making you unable to move. "Well well well, if it isn't my precious wife." He walks up to you to caress your cheek gently. You slap his hand away. Fyodor slaps you across the face and scoffs. "Really? After all the things I've done for you, this is the thanks I get?" You rub your stinging cheek as tears pool in your eyes. "I'm not your wife." You start to cry seeing Fyodor again. He rolls his eyes before grabbing a fist full of hair and bringing you up to his eye level. "I will not tolerate any sort of disrespect from you. That little stunt you pulled by running away was not amusing in the slightest." You can feel his purple eyes pierce through you as if he was staring directly into your soul. He lets go of you and throws you on the bed.

Fyodor's phone starts ringing. He sees an unknown caller on the screen. He immediately answers the call and hears Nikolai on the other side. They are both speaking in Russian making it impossible to understand what they are saying. After a few minutes of being on the phone, Fyodor hangs up and puts his phone away. "We are having a guest over so be on your best behavior." He leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. You hear him lock the door from the outside leaving you completely alone in the room. You start to cry uncontrollably realizing you will never escape from his grasp.

A few hours pass by and you hear two familiar voices enter the house. The voices approach the room. You see Fyodor and Nikolai standing there watching you with an amused look on their faces. "Fedya look how adorable she looks curled up like that. I can't wait to break her." Nikolai laughs as he looks at you with predatory eyes. Fyodor hums in response. "I agree. Let's break her until she's an obedient little wife." Both men give you a sick and sadistic smile. They corner you up against the bed frame from both sides. You will never escape this hell.

♥︎♡⊱─── ✟ ───⊰♡♥︎

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

Noble reader x Prince beomgyu

author's note: This isn't very fleshed out because it's not something that I had planned on writing — there’s a lot of telling not showing — and I have other things that I want to work on that this idea interrupted! I also kept a lot of details vague to allow readers to imagine your own interests. I hope this doesn't read like it was rushed (it took me about a month) and that I caught all the errors. This is inspired by Violet aka @blackhairedjjun and her fic Flowers of Every Colour. Her persona of Prince Yeonjun and vivid scenes live in my mind and I recommend you read it if you haven't yet!

word count: 6k

The prince often feels overwhelmed. Sometimes it seems as if everyone in the castle is looking for him at all times. Officials come to find him during his lessons, upsetting his tutors. His tutors come searching for him when council runs late and cuts into lesson time. No matter where he is or what duty he’s busy with, he receives notes from staff or delegates. He feels as though he’s in a constant game of tug-of-war, with his attention being the thing that’s fought over.

After a long lesson that had been rescheduled to a late evening hour to allow time for an urgent discussion with his advisors in the afternoon, Beomgyu could feel a headache coming on. As he departed from the study where tutoring was held, he felt heavy with exhaustion, a pressure pain behind his eyelids. He was so on edge that his head whipped toward every creak of the old floors, every distant sound of a door opening or closing, anxious that it was somebody seeking him out for yet another task that only he could see to or decision only he could approve. He just needed a minute – one minute at least – to himself. Every waking hour was spent in the presence of others, so much filling his days that his mind played it all back as he lay in bed at night trying to chase some much needed rest. Since becoming his parents’ consort, it felt as though he hardly had time to hear his own thoughts.

There was one place he knew nobody would look for him. Wearily he carried himself across the long open hall, past the top of the grand marble staircase he usually took to his rooms. He felt a little paranoid with the way he kept glancing around and over his shoulder as if he might be attacked at any moment by a “there you are, your highness.” If his father saw him now, he’d be scolded for looking like a thief in his own castle.

On reaching his destination, he breathed a sigh of relief. The library was quite large, with wall to wall mahogany shelves, beautifully covered atlases and historical volumes as far as the eye could see. Unlike the rest of the castle with its overbearing chandeliers, the library was lit with the soft glow of sconces. Finding a desk tucked away in a corner, Beomgyu sank into a chair. This was an area of the castle he hadn’t visited more than a handful of times, and never of his own will. He hadn’t been keen on reading growing up as his older female cousins had, always requiring a book to occupy them during the duration of their stay when they visited. The young prince had always preferred to spend his time outside whenever he could, and he'd found the silence of the library was stifling. It was bliss to him now. He only wished the buzzing of noise in his head would stop if he soaked in the silence long enough.

The place was empty, nobody to protest his posture as he leant his elbows on the hardwood desk and pressed his face into his hands. Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to quiet. He focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. In…

It was no use. His head was still swimming with facts from his lesson. With things he had to remember for tomorrow’s conference and the names of politicians he’d met yesterday, their faces all blurred together in his mind. With his advisors calling for him, the head of house calling for him, everything needing his deliberation–

He dropped his head onto his arm on the desk. Even the silence couldn’t help him, it seemed. Was this to be his life? A mind full of endless chatter?

Beomgyu’s tired eyes wandered over the spines of the books he could see on the far wall. Their rich colours, greens and reds, whites and browns, many with delicate gold foiling of titles he couldn’t make out. His eyes traced up the aged ladder leaning against the shelves, the one he was always given a telling off by his chaperone for playing on whenever he was dragged up here. The corner of his mouth turned up at the thought of those simpler days. His cousins had married and had children, far too busy to visit except for special occasions – usually only those of a ceremonial nature. The last time he’d seen them, the children hadn’t remembered him at all, it had been so long.

Sighing unconsciously, his gaze drifted to the decorated ceiling, not even making the effort of lifting his head from his arm. The elegant painting that adorned the library ceiling had been done with a skilled hand. Beomgyu couldn’t even begin to imagine how many hours something so beautiful and detailed would have taken. It was a dazzling scene of the night sky, with clouds and stars that seemed to swirl around each other in a silent dance. He could see every fine stroke that had gone into creating the layering hues that made up the deep night sky, that brought texture to the clouds and made them look as though a gentle breeze could move them, and stars that seemed so meticulously placed. He’d never looked so attentively at the art before, but he found a new appreciation for the work as he discovered his thoughts had grown quiet. Maybe this was why people spent so much money on paintings, he pondered, before his eyes drooped to a close.

The prince had almost completely dozed off when a soft gasp pulled him from the edge of sleep. Eyes blinking open, he realized that he’d gotten far too comfortable. He felt slightly groggy as he lifted his head from his arm, which had gone dead with the weight, and wondered at how long he’d been sitting there. Thumbing at his lip, he found a wet spot had begun to grow at the corner.

“I’m sorry,” came a voice, the source of the gasp that had brought him back. Would he have spent the entire night here if he’d not been woken? His dazed eyes looked up and found you, shrouded in dim light. He caught sight of recognition dawning on your face before you dipped into a respectful bow.

“I’m so sorry, your highness, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said hurriedly, as if the words couldn’t get out fast enough. Did you think he was going to scold you for being here at the same time he was? “I was just leaving…”

Fighting off the lingering drowsiness, Beomgyu waved a hand, feeling sheepish at being caught in this position. “Please, there’s no need.”

You seemed to relax a little at that; the way your shoulders lowered as if you'd been tensed didn’t go unnoticed by the prince’s eyes. He had become skilled in recognizing stress, whether it was because he grew up in a somewhat high-stakes environment or he was sensitive to it now as a stressed adult himself, he was unsure. The book you were cradling in one arm caught his attention now that you weren’t clutching it so tight. Beomgyu didn’t recognize you, and he knew everyone who worked in the castle. It bewildered him a bit that you knew him but he didn’t know you, despite that being the case with almost every person he met. Suddenly he felt a touch embarrassed. Not only had you caught him in an unmannerly state, but he didn’t know your name, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

“I really was leaving,” you caught him out again by speaking first. Your eyes met for a long silent moment, and Beomgyu thought the silence had never been less stifling. Then you seemed to remember yourself, eyes dropping to the book in your arms. “I just need to put this back.”

Beomgyu stared at the back cover of that book as if it could help him, too occupied with scrambling inside his head for something to say to notice the way you nervously brushed the hair away from your face and stole shy glances at him.

“What is it?” he blurted. Internally he cursed himself for the way it sounded. He’d only wanted to say something before you walked away. There was an overwhelming feeling he couldn’t name. A longing for you to stay. A feeling of stupidity for not being his usual collected self.

As someone with an official title, meeting new people was always planned, always with a purpose, an end goal. He knew each time what was expected and required of him; how to act, questions to ask and answers to give. This was the first time he could remember meeting someone by accident, and it didn’t seem to Beomgyu that he was very good at it. Taking a breath, he attempted to reign in his panic and try again. “What are you reading?”

You had to look down and check. Turning it over in your hands, you revealed the cover to him with a shy smile. With just one glimpse at the title, Beomgyu knew it would be of no use to him in trying to make conversation. It was a topic he knew nothing about.

“Oh,” he said aloud. He hadn’t meant to. Hoping you hadn’t heard the disappointment in his voice, he rushed to cover himself. “Is it… good?”

Your small laugh surprised him. The sound of it lessened the knots in his stomach, even as he wondered if he had made a fool of himself.

“It’s useful,” you answered, looking him in the eye again. He tried to concentrate as you spoke, to hold on to the words and not get too distracted by your smile or your eyes. “I’m doing research for a scholarship and only the royal library has the books I need. That’s why I’m here,”

“The scholarship?” Beomgyu’s eyes had gone wide. “The scholarship that only one person is picked for every five years?”

Your eyes lowered as you began to blush. “Yes, that one.”

“Wow,” Beomgyu subconsciously sank into his chair in awe. “Your family must be very proud.”

You laughed once more, unaware of how the prince’s eyes lit up each time you did. “Well, I haven't got it yet.”

His mouth caught your contagious smile. “But to even be considered is a great accomplishment.”

Your eyes were the ones to light up this time. Clutching the book close to your chest again, you leaned forward, your fingers curling over the back of the empty chair in front of you. “This is the most impressive library I’ve ever seen.”

Beomgyu sat up taller in his chair. “It is, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help the proud grin that took over his face as he looked around.

“When I come here I lose track of time,” you went on. You were unmistakably animated with enthusiasm, and he was completely taken with you. “The first day I came here, I lost a whole two hours just reading all the spines. Even the ones that aren’t required reading.” Lowering your voice as if to share a secret, you confided, “If I lived here I’d probably never leave the library!”

Beomgyu suddenly felt guilty. He’d never thought about the knowledge that could only be found in this library, and that very few were permitted to the books that contained it.

“If only I had the time to read for pleasure here,” you went on.

“Well, why don't you take some home to read?"

"I'm not permitted to take books out of the library," you said sadly, your attention on the book in your hand as your finger traced the spine.

Beomgyu thought back to the summers he'd shared with his cousins; days he'd spent running around the courtyard in the sunshine while they lazed under a tree with their noses between book pages. "I am," he supplied. His voice came out surprisingly excited. "I could read them for you."

You looked around at him as he stood up from his chair. "Read them for me?"

The prince felt as though his smile was plastered on now. He couldn't hide it if he tried. "I could read them and tell you about them."

He felt your eyes go warm, glowing on him like the sun as you brought out your own smile. "I'm sure you have more important things to do, your highness."

Beomgyu shrugged.

***

That was the reason that Beomgyu started his days by going to the library. He read while he ate his breakfast, which luckily didn't have a set time to be finished by, as it took him a little longer to eat this way. He found himself getting so engrossed in the book that he would forget to eat at the same time, averaging a mouthful to every three paragraphs, his meal cold by the time he finished it.

Then he would read in his room at night. He found that it was an effective way to turn off the noise in his head left over from the day, helping him to sleep better. Many times he would nod off in his chair before waking up and getting into bed. He would take notes sometimes, to better remember the things he wanted to tell you about.

He looked forward to the closing of the day. Once his schedule was complete and it was almost time for dinner, he would slip up to the library in hopes of catching you and relaying all the things he'd read about so far. Excitedly and enthusiastically he'd tell you interesting facts and historical stories from his current book. He had much more energy at the end of the day than he'd had before now that he was sleeping better.

The library had become a sort of safe haven to him now. His tutors complimented his new interest in his learning during lessons, retaining and remembering with a sudden ease, and many of the staff had noted that he had become a lot less tense. The serving staff who saw him with his face behind a book each morning were amused, often surprised as he rattled off facts to them as they laid out and cleared away his breakfast. None of them knew the reason.

On his rare day of rest, he came to find you straight after lunch. He'd confirmed you'd be in the castle today the last time he'd seen you, and he'd been so excited last night that it had taken more than just one hour of reading to send him off to sleep. The day was sunny, and with some persuading Beomgyu convinced you to take a small break from your studies to sit in the garden. You were a little anxious about being caught taking advantage of your privilege to be at the palace by being seen with the prince, but he assured you that he would take care of it.

Deep in the garden, the two of you wandered up the stone path that divided the lawns, chatting casually. The gardens were magnificent. You'd only seen them from a window in the castle, but the further you walked the more beauty there was to see that couldn't be viewed from a distance. The path led to a beautiful paved area with a grand gazebo. Beomgyu ushered you to sit on the ornate bench, forgoing the custom that he should be the one to sit first and taking a seat once you had. Your heart was pounding despite the relief you felt that you'd not run into any trouble on your way out of the castle, and you were sure you felt it leap each time Beomgyu laughed.

He had produced a book when you looked back from admiring the scenery, from somewhere you could not determine. Your face lit up as you took in the familiar cover; it was the one book in the royal library that you'd longed to read most. Beomgyu beamed at your excited reaction as he held it out for your taking. You had to fight the urge to glance around and make sure that nobody was seeing as you took it from his hands.

You read it aloud, with Beomgyu listening intently to every word. In the back of your mind, you wondered how you ended up in this position. When you'd started coming to the castle to study, you had never imagined you'd catch sight of the prince let alone talk to him, and yet you had been in his presence more than anyone else inside the palace. Now, as you read, you took every opportunity to look from the page up at him, finding his eyes on you, his undivided and eager attention completely yours. You were quite comfortable being at his side by now, but sometimes when he looked at you, you could feel the prickling of heat beneath the surface of your cheeks.

You hadn’t thought he would follow through on his offer, but each time you saw him enter the library it made your whole day complete. Truth be told, it had begun to take your mind off studying a little. One moment you’d be reading about a lost dynasty, and the next you’d realise you had stopped taking in any information and your mind had turned to Beomgyu. It also happened that you would dawdle while reshelving the books you’d been studying, delaying your leaving in case the prince showed up, which he always did.

Time seemed to fall away around you as you read. Minutes were marked by each turn of a page and seconds by the now steady beat of your heart, until you were so enthralled by the text that you could have almost forgotten the scene you were truly in.

Beomgyu chuckled lightly and you paused your reading. Your eyes readjusted to the glow of sunlight on the backdrop of bright white flowers beyond the gazebo as you took in his smiling face once more.“You’re really enjoying this one.” His eyes flicked down to the page where you were marking the place you’d stopped with your finger. “You haven’t looked up for the last five pages.”

“I’m sorry,” you couldn’t help but laugh too. You felt almost giddishly content in this moment; in a breathtaking garden with a good book and someone you felt was becoming dear to you.

“No, it’s wonderful,” he assured you. “Is it as good as you imagined?”

“No,” you answered in one breath. “It’s better.” Beomgyu beamed, and it made you feel so warm you might’ve been sitting directly in the sun and not under the shade. But just then, a sudden cloud passed through your mind. “I’ll be sitting the scholarship exam soon.”

Looking out over the garden, you couldn’t help but feel sad as you thought of how much more you would miss your visits to the palace now that you had fond memories and someone you could call a friend here.

“Are you nervous?”

You shook your head softly. It wasn’t the answer to his question. He hadn’t caught your meaning. “My studies will be finished then.”

The prince’s eyes brightened even more. “Then you can read whatever you like, whenever you like.”

“Yes,” you agreed distractedly. In your mind you were going over the future possibilities. If you were awarded the scholarship, you’d be going off to attend university. If it was not granted to you but to someone else, your life would go back to the way it had always been.

Beomgyu seemed to catch the somber look in your eye as you looked to the distance. His expression faltered. “Oh.” He shifted on the bench beside you. “Oh, you mean…”

“I won’t be coming to the castle any more,” you affirmed.

His eyes lost their sparkle only for a moment as he thought through this information. Then he seemed to perk up again. “Well, I can invite you to visit. To visit the library. I’m sure there’s still so much to learn here.”

Your heart swelled with the idea that he wanted to see you more, even if you knew that it wasn’t a probable conclusion. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the prince’s word, only that you knew that he was a busy man with tight schedules, that you were the eldest child of a noble family with a future to be decided and forged ahead. You returned his smile and tried to ignore the thought that you wished he’d come to the library months ago, that you’d met sooner so you could have had more time together.

“Would you like me to keep reading?” you asked as you reminded yourself that he was a prince and that was all he would ever be to you. It was a fortunate happenstance to have met him at all, you reminded yourself as he nodded eagerly and propped his chin into his hand to listen contentedly as you began to read again.

It didn’t stop you from clinging to every moment and trying to engrave every detail into your memory.

***

During the last few days you visited the castle library, you tried your best to think about Beomgyu as little as possible and focus solely on study. It was a hard task. Passing the grand portrait of the royal family in the hallway without looking was like trying not to glance around when feeling the presence of someone you know. It felt as if the library was haunted now. Almost each corner held a memory of the prince finding you and bumbling eagerly through a tale, helping you carry books back to their shelves, or asking you to come and sit in the garden.

You had seriously considered leaving early, removing yourself from the castle before the hour he usually made his way to the library. But you weren’t sure which would hurt more — knowingly missing out on seeing him in the last few chances you had, or having more encounters in which to grow more attached. The thought of both made something inside of you ache.

Just when you’d convinced yourself you had made up your mind to leave, you passed a window and spotted a carriage pull up at the entrance gates below. The door swung before the footman could rush to open it and there he was. You didn’t know he hadn’t been here in the castle. The heart that had sat heavy in your chest felt leagues lighter just at this distant glimpse of him. As you tried to gauge whether you were relieved you hadn’t gotten away without seeing the prince, you saw him rush inside. He disappeared from view of the window and you looked up into the purple hued sky of the fast oncoming dusk. Maybe you were safe after all. He was clearly on his way to tend to a matter of importance. Feeling assured you could slip away unnoticed, you slid the last volume back onto its shelf and made for the door.

The sound of hurried footsteps on marble gave you pause. Unconsciously you backed away a few steps frin the open double doors, ready to wait out the staff who must have been ascending the staircase on some urgent errand. But the huff of exertion you heard was familiar. Heart pulsing suddenly and in a mind of suspense and disbelief, you waited with bated breath.

When Beomgyu stepped through the doors, you felt an overwhelming gratitude that you hadn’t succeeded in your departure. Even after a mere day without seeing each other, seeing those warm eyes and the smile that broke across his face when he found you felt akin to finding a well of water after a month without rain.

“I’m so glad I found you here,” he said in his usual way, and it sparked your smile just as it always did. You were so occupied with trying to memorize this feeling, to make sure you remembered this moment, that you didn’t reply. Beomgyu was preoccupied himself and didn’t seem to notice. “I got you something.” His grin turned a tiny bit shy.

You blinked in surprise as the words sank in. “You got–? Your Highness–”

Beomgyu chuckled. “Come on, none of that.” Your eyes didn’t leave his as he reached for the hand at your side. His other retrieved something tucked under his arm. Gently he turned your hand upwards, and you hardly had time to process anything before an object was placed into it.

You looked down to see the very book you had been reading in the garden, only it wasn’t the same copy. This seemed to be a newer edition, with a beautiful blue velvet cover. It felt quite luxurious as you turned it over in your hands. A gasp emitted from you as the glint of the gold page edges caught the light. It was the most special and thoughtful gift you’d ever received, and, you thought, far more precious than any of the books that surrounded you in the royal library. You found yourself so touched that you wanted to cry, but you fought back the tears as you looked up at your friend.

The prince looked twice as happy as you felt. His eyes sparkled despite the soft lighting, and his cheeks had taken on a slightly bashful pink. “So you can finish it,” he told you softly. “And read it over and over again, any time you want.”

You were still speechless, and you could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to build. Before you knew it, you had thrown your arms around his neck, his arms closing around your back. Never did you imagine anything like this. You were stretched up on your toes, and you were sure he was leaning down to hug you, but you were too wrapped up in the moment to think about any of it. It felt like you were holding on to each other a long time before you finally parted. The urge to kiss his cheek filled you as you brushed away from him, but you thought better of it. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel as though you were jumping to conclusions that were presumptuous.

“I don’t have anything to give you,” you fretted. The weight of the book in your hands made you feel unexpectedly empty-handed.

Beomgyu chuckled. “It’s a ‘good luck’ present. Except I know you won’t need luck.”

“Thank you, Beomgyu.” His smile somehow grew at your use of his name. You knew you had his smile etched into your memory already.

“You’ll have to tell me how it ends,” he said as the two of you made your way slowly down the stairs. It was the first time he’d walked you out, and you were too intent on borrowing more time with him to worry much about being seen together when you reached the grand hall.

“No, I won’t,” you retorted with a laugh, looking up at him as you both dragged out each next step as subtly as possible. “You have your own copy here,”

Beomgyu pondered this for a moment, lips pursing, before formulating his reply. His eyes were determined as they met yours again. “Well, we’ll have to discuss our opinions on the ending.”

Neither of you took notice of the way the heads turned and followed the two of you as you crossed the hall. It was mostly palace staff at this time of evening. With the book clutched to your chest, they could only gather that this was the spark that had ignited Prince Beomgyu’s sudden penchant for reading. Many silent smiles were exchanged across the room as you passed.

“You will come if I invite you, won’t you?” Bromgyu asked on the front steps. His face was earnest, maybe the most you’d ever seen. “When you have time out from school?”

“Of course,” you replied, meaning it with all the hope in your heart. “But I haven’t gotten the scholarship yet.” You felt cause to keep reminding him.

“As well as I know how often you could come to visit if you didn’t get it, I know you will. I have no doubt.”

You looked up to see the genuine look in his eyes, sincerity doing little to conceal the sadness. “We’ll see each other again.” The words felt like truth as you spoke them. “And in the meantime, we can write.” Beomgyu nodded eagerly.

Disappointment tugged at you when you spotted your family’s carriage roll up through the gates. With a small bow and one last smile, you stepped into the vehicle, still clutching Beomgyu’s gift. You kept your eyes on him as the horses walked on, watched him wave until he was out of sight. There was a renewed heaviness about you as you sat back and settled in for the journey home. Even the first stars beginning to emerge from the darkening sky couldn’t comfort you as you gazed out of the window solemnly.

***

Prince Beomgyu tried his best, rather unsuccessfully, to stifle yet another yawn. He’d stayed up too late reading, and now he was sitting in the grand hall trying to go over his upcoming speech with bleary eyes. He hadn’t intended to go to bed quite so late, but each time he’d told himself he’d close the book at the end of the chapter, he hadn’t been able to. The closer he’d gotten to the end of the story, the more gripped by it he’d become and the faster his eyes seemed capable of taking in the words. He’d read until he’d finished the book, then sat in stunned silence. He couldn’t help but wonder if you’d finished the book yourself, and he’d had the strong urge to start a letter. Instead, his good sense had taken him to bed, where he’d remembered the speech he should have spent the night memorising. The book had been a satisfying distraction. Without it he likely would have tossed and turned the whole night in anticipation of giving his speech.

Beomgyu was still new to public speaking and was not fond of it. As the hour grew closer, he found himself stumbling over his words as he practised. He could feel his heart rate increase, seemingly with each tick of the loud ornate clock across from him and every sound that carried into the hall from the room full of people he was to address.

Getting to his feet, he began to move about the room in an effort to soothe himself. His thoughts attempted to reassure him. He knew what was expected of him. He knew, for the most part, what he was to say. But then the image of hundreds of pairs of eyes all fixed on him crept into his mind, sending a chill down his back. As he passed the clock, he felt it was taunting him — it seemed the minutes were passing faster than they should. He could almost feel the second hand’s torturous chanting inside his chest from this proximity. With a shaky sigh he turned to cross the room away from it again, fiddling with the golden buttons on his jacket cuff which he had already fastened and unfastened more times than he could count in his nervous state.

Through the open doors across the hall he could hear the familiar sound of a carriage arriving out front. Beomgyu allowed himself to imagine it had come to rescue him. He had the urge to go and greet it, just to give him a brief distraction, but the clock stared him down, boasting a mere five minutes remaining until he must speak in front of the crowd. Reaching for the small paper in his pocket, he made to sit once more and make himself concentrate on revising the words, until a voice called his title. He jumped back to his feet in panic, fearing they had come to usher him in early, but as he turned to the door beside him that led to the luncheon, he found no one. Instantly some of the tension in his raised shoulders fell away.

“Beomgyu!”

His heart skipped over one beat as he spun toward the entrance and saw a figure in a half mannerly run. Disbelief flickered in his mind at the sight of you, the first in weeks, but his body suddenly felt lighter than it had all day. You were rushing toward him, an unmistakable grin on your face, footsteps muffled by the thick ancient rug that carpeted the tiled floors.

Beomgyu stepped away from his seat with only seconds to spare, his face still one of bewilderment as you threw your arms around him, almost knocking the prince off his feet. His heart was thudding rapidly in his chest, but now it had nothing to do with nerves. His arms went around you instinctively as you met chest to chest, and in his excitement he brought you up onto your toes with his hug. Your laugh in his ear was like a familiar tune from a yesterday he’d longed to return to.

You pulled back to see his face, speaking first as you saw a question forming in his mind. “I got it! The scholarship – I got it!” you exclaimed.

The sun seemed to dawn on Beomgyu’s face, along with something that looked proud. “Of course you did! What did I tell you?”

His arms had relaxed around you to let you draw back, and now you glanced down at the placement of your hands on his shoulders, looking a touch shy in your realisation. His smile grew at this.

“You worked so hard.” He spoke more softly than a moment ago. His heart didn’t seem to settle as the two of you untangled from each other. He had half a thought to check on the time before another thought replaced it. “I finished the book last night.”

Your smile turned fond. He’d missed you more than he’d thought he had, which was hard to imagine. “I finished it the night you gave it to me,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Did you like how the story ends?”

Beomgyu reached a hand out toward yours in a small movement, his skin tingling at the feel of your warm fingers as you allowed your own to close around his. It was the second time he’d touched your hand, and this time he could hold it longer. “Yes,” he replied as he felt his smile widen. Your eyes met his again with a new shine. “I liked the ending very much.”

The clock chimed across the hall, announcing the hour and reminding him of his impending task. The door opened and his advisor appeared. If he was surprised to find the prince with company, he didn’t show it. The man simply smiled and nodded his head respectfully. “They’re ready for you, Your Highness.” Then he disappeared back inside.

Beomgyu took a deep breath. He found that he wasn’t as anxious as he had been before. There was still a lingering nervousness, but it had been softened by another feeling. Even the wall of sound that was just beyond the door seemed to have dulled at the back of his mind. He looked at you and you nodded towards the open door.

“My parents are inside. I used them as my excuse to come here.” He caught your clever smile, then felt your hand on his shoulder, and before he knew it you’d raised up onto your toes and your lips brushed his cheek. It was the kiss you’d held back before. “Good luck. But I know you won’t need it,” you said, slipping away through the door before he could react to the tingle on his face.

The prince’s mind was pleasantly blank as he faced the door and the duty ahead of him. It seemed his nerves had been replaced by a buzzing sensation that felt rather like courage, matching the tingling trace of your kiss on his face. Equipped with a smile, he stepped into the room feeling like he was about to give his best speech yet.

[desi2go]

Moonlight

pairing: werewolf Minho x vampire reader

warnings: fluff

request: I think it would be so cute to have like Minho have the whole “I hate everyone but you” kinda vibe and the reader is just a social butterfly who talks to all mythical beings. Would love a cute fic on this (even better with a skz pack meeting vampire!reader)

author's note: Thank you for my first request! Loved writing it 🫶🏼 and I hope you enjoy it as well

Mystical creatures weren't something uncommon in your world. Since the beginning of time there were documents, statues and other thing that showed evidence that not only humans wandered around the earth. These creatures mostly hid and disguised as humans. The most common species were werewolves and vampires.

And you never thought that especially you would meet so many different creatures. Let alone, turn into one. You were born 1975 and lived a rather normal life. But suddenly that changed when you turned 23 years old. You were still in college and walked home after the last lesson for the day in the late afternoon to your small apartment.

It were only 300 metres from the campus to your home, the sun had already sunk, and yet you met a creature right in front of your front door. The person didn't even look human, the dark nearly hiding it's appearance completely.

But you heard the whimpers of a woman. She must have been forced into the corner and the creature towered over her.

"Hey! Let her go!" You exclaimed and drew the attention of the thing to you. The street light lighted the face and it was a man, a vampire. His blood stained lips crooked into a smile, showing his sharp fangs. "Who are you, little one? Do you wanna play the hero?" His voice was raspy and his yellow eyes never left your body.

He let the woman down, she tumbled but catched herself and ran away as quick as possible. "You look stunning, dear. You're too pretty to be a blood bar, right?" He purrs, with a great speed, his body crashed against yours, forcing you to fall backwards to the ground.

His fangs pierced your skin and a scream escaped you. He chuckled and retracted his fangs. "Sorry dear. Needed to taste you" then, he bit in his own wrist and pressed it against your lips, forcing you to open your mouth so that you could feel the cold metallic blood on your tongue. Unsuccessful, you tried pushing him away from you.

You felt a mingle there, where his fangs broke your skin and the pain eased away.

He then pulled his arm away, brushing the remaining blood from his wrist, the wound already closing. " Good night dear" he whispered into your ear and before you could process that, he grabbed your neck and everything faded to black.

⛧☯⛧

The following months were hard for you. Being a vampire was totally different from being human. When you woke up the day after that man gave you his blood, everything hurt in you, the sun made your skin itch and you quickly ran into your apartment since your skin was already lightly burned.

You had been shocked when you catched a glimpse on your bright yellow eyes in the mirror and some of your teeth were sharper than usual, forming your fangs.

The blood lust was a torture and you couldn't even be in the near of a human. But fortunately, you crossed path with a witch that teaches you how to control yourself whenever humans are near you. She helped you to learn how to hunt animals so that you don't need human blood. With that help, you could finally complete your college.

After your graduation, you packed your things and moved to the rim of the city. That way, you where near the witches home and could easily hunt animals due to the fields and the forest at your place. It was a small house that you bought from your savings but it felt like you could finally be yourself there.

Years passed. Well, 20 years to be exact. You still lived in that house. But you don't live alone anymore. Five years ago, you crossed path with a young witch, Arin, she was just 18 years old. You found her on the streets after her parents kicked her out because they were afraid by her magic.

The old witch that helped you a long time ago, told you how you could identify if a person is a mystical creature or a human so that as soon as you layed eyes on Arin, you knew that you needed to help her. Just like the old witch did.

You took her home and introduced her to the old woman. With her help she could finally understand how her powers worked.

Since then, you became a shelter for mystical creatures. And you loved to help them.

⛧☯⛧

The forest was quiet, no voice could be heard. The full moon stood high in the night sky and bathed the forest in a silvery light. A cold wind blew through the trees. You loved to hunt in the night. After all, you were a vampire. The old witch crafted a ring so that you could go into the sun but hunting was more fun in the depth of the night.

Soundless, you sneaked up to a rabbit. Then, a twig cracked and your pray ran away. You sighed and looked out for the source that made the sound. You guessed that your meal needs to wait.

It wasn't a deer or another animal. It was a werewolf. The moon lightened some strands of his black hair, making it slightly silver. With attentive eyes, he followed every motion.

"Hey, wolfie. What's your name?" You asked friendly, brushing your own hair out of your face. He doesn't answer you. "Okay. So, I'm Y/n" you introduced yourself.

"You're a vampire." He stated coldly. "Yeah, I am. And you're a wolf. I don't remember any packs that live here. Where you coming from?"

"We moved here recently" he just mentioned. His body language showed his cautions and the cold temperament that hid underneath his skin.

"That's great. I'm always open for new neighbours. I live here. So maybe you want to come around with your pack" you smiled at him.

"Sorry, not interested" he told you, leaning against a tree.

"Okay. Then, hopefully see you soon, wolfie" you exclaimed, walking away to search for your next pray.

"Don't call me wolfie!" He shouted annoyed. You chuckled, it was sweet how easily he was to tease. "Alright, then tell me your name!" You said over your shoulder.

"It's Minho." He exclaimed. "Well, then it was a pleasure to meet you, Minho" you loved how easily his name rolled off your tongue. With the speed of a vampire, you searched for another rabbit.

⛧☯⛧

At home, Arin was over the moon as soon as you told her about the werewolf. She was a helpless romantic and always dreamed of love that mostly happens in books or movies. She demanded you to go into the forest again and we'll, you needed to hunt anyways.

The moon lighted your way deeper into the woods. The more time you spend here, the clearer became your mind. You loved being here.

"Hello Y/n" the voice as yesterday said. You quickly turned around. It was indeed Minho. Like yesterday, he leaned onto a tree but now with a more relaxed posture.

"Nice to see you, Minho. What ya doing here?"

"Enjoying the night. And you?" His eyes sparkled under the calming light of the moon.

"Hunting"

"Aren't you drinking blood?" He asks. "Yeah but I just drink from animals. Like rabbits and other creatures that live in the woods" you explained.

"So you're not drinking from humans?" You chuckled. "No. And in addition, I take the dead animals home so that my friends can have something to eat too"

"Are they also vampires?"

"Sometimes. Like I said yesterday, my door is always open for creatures that need shelter. And sometimes I live together with werewolves, vampires or witches"

"That's crazy." He muttered. You laughed, giving him a toothless smile. "Yup, but I like it that way."

You noticed how comfortable he was slowly getting as the conversation progressed further.

The following days, you met Minho often in the woods. He still held some distance but he grew more open and outgoing as the time went along. You couldn't deny that he was sweet and funny. And you enjoyed spending time with him.

Sometimes, you could even lure out a small smile so that his lips formed a toothy smile and a rosy tone was covering his cheeks.

As the time went on, you couldn't help but fall for the wolf. Both your personalities were totally different. He was the night, somewhat cold but at the same time caring from far away, and you were the sun, warm and friendly, even to strangers. But undeniably, you complimented each other. Just like Ying and Yang.

It was once again another meeting with him and you found him on the exact same place as always, the place where you had met for the first time.

"Hello Y/n" he welcomed, walking towards you. "Hello Minho" you smiled at him. Just like the other times, you both strolled through the woods, talking about everything and nothing, or just enjoyed each others company in a peaceful silence.

You told him about the young boy who stood at your porch this morning, a little vampire who just got turned. Of course you offered help to him. As you talked about the little guy, you walked over some big roots on the earth.

However, something that didn't disappear while being a vampire, was your clumsiness, especially when you don't concentrate on your environment.

Just like now, you didn't see a root and tripped over it. You yelped and grabbed anything to stop you from falling. Well, the nearest thing was Minho's shirt. But you didn't expect him to loose balance as well. Together, you crashed to the ground, him over you.

Quickly, he held himself up with his forearms to get his weight off your chest. "Are you okay?" He asked, worry showing clearly on his face. "Yeah" you whispered. His warm body heated your cold one.

Your eyes wandered over his face, searching for any hints of pain. You were met just with the prettiest eyes you have ever seen. They were black in the low light of the moon, still his soul and passion lightened it. Slowly, he changed his position to take some weight off his arms. One hand crept up your waist and your side. Then, it reached your neck and finally his warm hand caressed your cheek.

"You're beautiful" he mumbled, his hot breath hitting your neck.

His fingers brushed over the soft skin if your cheek when he lowered himself some more, his eyes jumping up and down from your eyes to your lips. Then, he overcame the last few centimeters and his lips crashed against yours. At first slowly and cautious but more and more passionate. You closed your eyes and just concentrated on the feeling of his pillowy lips and his scent.

⛧☯⛧

"Are you sure, you wanna meet the pack? We can still go home" Minho asked for the hundredth time. His hand held yours, caressing his thumb over yours.

"Of course it want to meet them! They're you're family" you exclaimed. Your first kiss was five weeks ago and you were over the moon when he suggested that you could meet his pack. The first thing that he did was warning you. His family was chaotic, he had said.

He brought you to a house at the other side of the forest and it was so much bigger than your tiny home. Minho opened the front door and entered, you followed him slowly.

"Guys, I'm home!" He shouted and lead you into the living room.

"Hey Min!" A brown haired boy with round cheeks exclaimed. Then, he noticed you. "Who is that?"

"Jisung, that's Y/n. My girlfriend" Minho introduced you, his fingers drawing circles on your lower back. "Since when did you have a girlfriend?" Another wolf with blonde dyed hair asked who just came through one of the doors.

"You are capable of finding a girlfriend?" A man with brown hair asked with a teasing smirk. He seemed much younger than Minho who just rolled his eyes.

Then, a wolf with curly hair came towards you with a friendly smile. "Seungmin don't be so sassy! Anyways, nice to meet ya! I'm Chan." He said.

So the younger wolf must be Seungmin. "It's nice to meet you too!" You answered.

"I'm Felix and that's Changbin and Hyunjin!" The boy with the blond hair stated and pointed to two other persons. "I'm excited to finally meet you all. I'm Y/n!" You introduced yourself as well. They seemed to don't mind that you were a vampire and not a human or a werewolf.

"I never thought that that old guy could find someone who was possible of loving him" Seungmin mentioned teasingly. Minho pressed a short kiss against your cheek. "Alright that's enough. I'll be right back, love. I just need to murder Seungmin" he grumbled and chased after the younger one.

You laughed as you watched the chasing. Chan sighed and sat beside you on the sofa. " I hope Min warned you that we are chaotic when we are ourselves" he said. You chuckled. "Yeah, he mentioned that" and you already loved that bunch of people.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 6

Part 6:

"I brought that disgusting snack with the jam you like," Art sat down in the seat next to Liana on the plane and glanced at her for a second. She had fallen asleep. He didn’t know when or how she managed it, but he knew that if the recent period had been hard for him, Liana had completely collapsed into herself. She managed to fight with him twice, apologize three times (he wouldn’t lie, he enjoyed every "sorry for being a bitch" he received, because up until a few months ago, she wouldn’t apologize at all) and she cried a lot. He knew she cried because every time he saw her in the library (the only place he managed to find her in the past month), her cheeks were puffier than usual, and her eyes were red. Now that they were traveling home for the holidays, he hoped she could rest and, if he were to be really greedy, Art hoped she would have time for him again.

Without him knowing how it happened, her head found its place on his shoulder, causing him to remember that time he was sick and woke up next to her. The first thought that crossed his mind that morning was that the only position that could bring him closer to Liana was to be physically inside Liana. His dick felt the same way when he woke up that day, quietly went to the bathroom, and then went for a run. Since then, he had occasional flashes of the image of his legs tangled with hers and his hands holding her as if she were his only grip on reality. Like now, with her head on his shoulder and her breathing heavy. He found himself sighing and closing his eyes as well.

"You're coming for Christmas, right?" Art asked as they walked toward her parents' car, carrying his bag in one hand and her suitcase in the other (despite Liana's insistence that she could carry it herself). "You know we're Jewish and we celebrate Hanukkah, right, Art?" she said, amused. Now that she had a little break, she planned to sleep so much that her face would take on the shape of her pillow. "Really, Liana Levy?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Do you usually come to my parents thing?" "Now that you'll be there too, I'll ask my parents to stay home and watch TV." When Art was in boarding school, he didn't come home for the holidays; it was a training period, and he didn’t want to waste it. "You know that just means I'll come to you, right?" he replied, not even looking at her. Art didn’t have many friends from home. Neither did Liana. She planned to meet up with Rebecca, and Jake had sent her a message asking if she was coming for the holidays. She hadn’t replied yet. "Usually your parents put up a small menorah on the window. It's cute," she shrugged and from a distance saw her dad leaning on the car. "Look, Art." She pointed in his direction and quickened her pace, seeing Art do the same. "Three months and you're already her soldier," her dad said as he hugged her, referring to her suitcase that Art had carried. "What can I do? She has that kind of influence," Art winked playfully and hugged Liana's dad as well. They really liked each other. They always talked about sports and Stanford, sharing stories that Liana couldn’t relate to. "So, I'll see you in two days?" Art asked as her dad parked in front of his house. "Don't count on it, Donaldson," she replied, and he rolled his eyes as he walked away. "You two seem closer," her dad observed. "We're fine," she summed up, not wanting to agree but knowing he was right.

The next day, Liana called Art in the afternoon. "I knew you'd miss me," he sounded amused. "Where are you, why are you out of breath?" she asked, confused. "I went to play tennis with my dad. I'm trying not to embarrass him, and now we're resting for the third time because he's old," Art replied. "Why did you call?" he asked. "Do you want to come to a party tonight?" she asked in return. "You don't have to, but Rebecca invited me to Sean's party, and I think he's a douchebag, but Rebecca probably wants to hook up with him, and she'll probably ditch me during the evening, and I think Jake will be there, and to be honest, I'd rather stay home, but Rebecca really asked. Will you come with us?" she asked after a stream of murmurs. There was something pleading in her voice, and Art couldn't help but feel a slight tingle all over his body. It was something he couldn't pinpoint the source of, but hearing Liana beg was a sound he didn't know his ears needed.

"What's in it for me?" he tried to make the most of a situation where he had nothing to lose. "Art." Her tone was warning. "I'm serious," he retorted, even though he wasn't. "So am I. We'll pick you up at nine, dress like a normal person, please. Button-down shirt and jeans, don't come in a Stanford shirt." He could hear the sarcasm. "You know if you want something, you're not supposed to insult me, right?" he replied. "That's my love language." She said, and he didn't stop responding that he knew before she hung up.

"We're going to get drunk, right?" Liana asked him as she put a hand on a bottle of gin. "Will I have to babysit you today, Li?" he asked, amused by the situation. "No. Because you'll get drunk with me. I told you Rebecca would leave," she told him, pouring them both a tequila shot. "You're on vacation, Art. You can afford one night of alcohol. I promise to be responsible for the rest of the break. We'll only drink champagne on New Year's Eve. I promise to be good," she smiled her most convincing smile. Liana hoped it would have an effect, although Art didn't easily give in to manipulations, especially not when they were so transparent. "You'll be good?" he asked, raising the shot glass like her. "I'll be the best," she replied, and they both drank. This was going to be a long night.

Four shots in and a cup of cheap keg beer later, Art and Liana found themselves sitting outside on the synthetic grass at Sean's house. The December cold didn't affect either of them due to the amount of alcohol. "Lia, I didn't know you were here," they turned together a second after they sat down, seeing Jake. "James," Art smiled a smile Liana knew exactly what it meant; Jake didn't stand a chance. He was on the sharp tongue radar of Art Donaldson, who, under the guise of niceness, could be the most ruthless person in the world. "It's Jake," the other replied. "Can we talk?" he turned to her. "We're busy, try later, but I wouldn't count on it," the smile didn't leave Art's face while he spoke. "Liana." Jake's voice was piercing. "I have nothing to talk to you about right now, Jake, sorry. Don't ruin my night," she tried to be gentle, but they both knew he didn't deserve it. He nodded and walked away in defeat. "That was fun. Do you have any other exes to bully?" Art asked, taking another sip from the bottle they had taken with them. "Arthur!" she feigned an angry voice and lightly slapped his hand, but he quickly grabbed her hand in his. "You're supposed to be good, not violent," he said, tracing small circles on the hand he refused to let go of. "I can be both at the same time." She shrugged, snatching the bottle from him with her free hand.

"Lindsey has been eyeing you all night; you could totally go for it," she said, examining him. He glanced over at Lindsey, a blonde girl he remembered from when they were younger. Her body was well-sculpted, and the dress she wore suited her. "No, tonight it's just you and me, Li. You won't get rid of me and go to James," he said, half-humor, half-serious. He didn't want her to go to her ex. "Okay." She shrugged and laid her head on his knees without asking, looking at him with an amused look he returned. "Are you drunk?" he asked. "No, you're drunk," she stated. "Why did you break up with James?" "His name is Jake." "Why do you always evade when I ask you?" He couldn't stop looking at her. She was…his tonight. Close to him. Looking only at him. Needy as fuck. As if she only saw him from the moment they entered this house. "Because it's embarrassing…" she took another sip and choked a little. "Jesus, Li, don't drink while lying down." Art scolded and snatched the bottle from her, taking another swig. "Tell me." His finger lingered in her hair and gently brushed her cheek; he saw how she instinctively closed her eyes from the cold touch. "Tell me," he repeated, continuing to caress her face gently and moving slightly to her neck, testing the boundaries of this evening. "You'll laugh at me." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Tell me," he said with the same firmness that made her swallow. An intonation she had never heard from him before. A voice she didn't know how to refuse. "I didn't want to sleep with him." She mumbled and tried to turn her face the other way, forgetting for a moment that Art's hand was there, and just as it had stroked before, it now made sure to stabilize her head exactly where he wanted it. With eyes on him. Eyes that pierced directly into her soul if that was possible. If it wasn't the alcohol that made her succumb to the blue eyes that stared at her. "Why would I laugh at you?" he asked. "Because it's embarrassing not to want to sleep with your boyfriend when you're 19." She really didn't want to keep looking at him when she said it, but he didn't let her escape the feeling of surrender she was experiencing right now. "I would never judge you for that, Li. More than that, I'm quite glad you didn't sleep with that loser," his hand went back to making light movements on her cheek, but the atmosphere in the air changed. "Why?" she asked quietly. "Why what?" he replied. "Why are you glad?" she slowly sat up, and Art helped her with a hand he placed on her lower back, not removing it when she sat closer than she had before. "Li…" his nose touched hers for a few seconds, and he closed his eyes. "Are you going to do that thing where you whisper sweet nothings and pretend to be nice so I'll go home with you?" she asked, feeling bold, and he smiled, his eyes still closed. "That's pointless; we both know I don't have a single nice bone in my body," he managed to find words, opening his eyes for a second to see her like he hadn't seen her before. Her cheeks were flushed like his from the alcohol and the cold, her lips half-parted, and her green eyes fixed on him. "And I'll still go home with you?" her voice was quiet and needy, if someone asked Art, he would say almost musical. "Yes, you'll still go home with me, Li." He declared. And so, with both of them half-drunk, Art and Liana's lips met. It was a kiss that knocked the air out of their lungs, built on the sexual tension they had carried for years without realizing it. Liana's hands tried to touch every part of him while Art's hands were experienced and steady on her waist. His lips moved to her neck, and she let out a sound that Art could swear was pornographic, one he didn't want anyone else to hear from her ever.

"We're leaving. Now," he declared, giving her a look that left no room for doubt. This night was just beginning.

This one is a bit longer, so I hope it's OK... No Patrick in this one, but we needed some development with Art after that last part. Hope you like it. Thanks for engaging and sending me your thoughts. Please continue to do that. And if you want me to tag you for future parts, say the word ❤️

taglist: @swetearss ganana yoitsme-04