#accidentally drops my thousands of love letters

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Route To Sin - Eddie Munson

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: eddie decides to go on a roadtrip with you to visit your sister in vegas, when you stop at a themed motel on the way, things quickly take a filthy turn.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: my first eddie munson fic!! i’ve loved this man for two years, i just finally decided to put it on paper lol, please let me know what y’all think!!

TW: dom!eddie, slight brat tamer!eddie, reader has a sister, drug use (weed), food mention, marriage talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, bathtub sex, oral fixation, unprotected sex (don’t do this), creampie, cowgirl, mirror sex, degradation (brat, whore), porn mention, spanking mention, pet names (doll, babydoll, sweet girl, sweetheart, angel), hair pulling, fem + afab reader, reader gets slightly insecure at the end

Rating: R, 18+

——

A waft of earthy smoke billowed from the open driver’s side window, the familiar smell pulling Eddie’s attention back to the van. You knelt on the bench seat, body stretched across the expanse of the front cab to rest your folded arms against the edge of the window frame, silently watching your boyfriend pump gas. The last of the joint you’d been passing back and forth dangled limply between your pointer and middle finger, careful to avoid dropping the simmering butt and accidentally lighting the whole place up.

“If you keep blowin’ that roach shit my way I’m gonna leave you here.” That signature sarcasm rang heavy in his tone, canines peeking out from under his top lip with the smile he flashed at you.

He shut the fuel door, grabbing the roach out of your hand before snubbing it out against the heel of his boot and tossing it into the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can.

“I gotta go in to pay, do you want anything?” He fumbled with his wallet, pulling the wad of crumpled bills out of the worn leather.

“Get me a slice?” You asked, tilting your head toward the neon in the window that read ‘Pizza: Hot To Go’ in blinking red letters. He nodded, hitting a light jog into the convenience store, wallet chain slapping against his thigh with every step.

When you suggested a roadtrip to visit your sister in Nevada, you hadn’t fully taken into account how long you’d need to be in the van. Hawkins to Vegas wasn’t exactly a short trip, two thousand miles to be exact, and as much as you loved spending time with Eddie, the old, worn out seat of his van was starting to make your tailbone ache. Being 16 hours into a 28 hour drive had you feeling more stressed out than usual, you definitely needed to sleep in a real bed tonight if you hoped to get any relief before your big weekend in Sin City.

Eddie came bounding across the cracked pavement, pizza box in hand and you perked up, his goofy smile illuminated by the final sliver of dusk and the dingy glow of the old gas station sign above.

“I got a whole pie, Rick wasn’t fuckin around when he said that new stuff would make you feel like you’re starving.” He yanked open the door, the metal creaking loudly on its rusty hinge. You took the box from him, setting it on the bench between you as he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, starting up the van to continue your journey.

“Eddie, can we stop at a motel tonight?” You asked, opening the box to lift a piece of pizza out, folding it down the center and bringing it to his face.

“M’not sure if there’s anything on the way, but we can stop if we see something, doll.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the road through his peripheral as he took a bite from the slice in your hand.

‘Welcome Home (Sanitarium)’ by Metallica blared through the speakers either side of the van’s tape deck, vibrations from the heavy bass flowing through the vehicle and melding with the warm haze your high pulled over your mind, your body relaxing into the stained upholstery of the seat. You kicked your bare legs up onto the dashboard, white lacquered toenails pulling Eddie’s eyes off the road briefly. His gaze shifted down to your ankle, then your calf, then landing on your plush thigh, your soft skin peeking out from under your short pajama shorts.

“Eddie, there!” You pointed toward the sign glowing overhead through the dirty windshield, reading ‘Heart’s Desire Motel’ in faded letters atop a large metal heart. His attention was quickly pulled away from your soft skin, pulling the van off the highway and into the small parking lot. The place was quaint, baby pink paint peeling from the siding, with an old ‘vacancy’ sign blinking in the window of the front office. You pulled your sandals on and jumped out of the van, slipping Eddie’s jacket over your shoulders to shield your bare arms from the chill in the night air. Eddie followed quickly behind, catching up to you with ease as you reached the front door.

A small bell rang when you pulled open the office door, the only source of light in the small room being a desk lamp situated behind the front counter. You waited for a moment, hearing a ‘be right with you!’ called from an adjoining space.

“How can I help ya darlin?” A sweet older woman emerged from a back storage space, setting some paperwork down and taking her place behind the counter.

“Can we get a room for the night?” You asked cheerily, excited to finally lay down on something that wasn’t a blanket in the back of Eddie’s van. She smiled and nodded, flipping through the room log book, and you took the opportunity to glance at your surroundings. The walls were the same light pink as the exterior, with heart and cupid motifs scattered across them to really hone in on the theming. The kitchy aesthetic was endearing, a reminder of the bygone honeymoon resorts of the 60’s.

“All our double twin rooms are booked for the night so we only have single queen rooms available, is that alright?” She looked between you and Eddie, knowing her question may as well have been rhetorical.

“That’s actually preferred, it’s our wedding night.” Eddie lied to the woman, a shiteating grin stretched across his face when you turned back to him and shoved his shoulder.

“Well in that case I’ll put you up in our honeymoon suite! It’s not much different from our standard rooms, but there’s a heart shaped tub for you two lovebirds to enjoy.” Her face lit up with the sweetest smile and your heart melted, guilt sitting low in your chest knowing it was a lie. You didn’t have the heart to tell her or question why she’d believed it given the way the two of you were dressed, but you shrugged it off, just happy to be able to finally relax.

You took the key from her as Eddie handed her the cash to pay for the room, twirling it between your fingers, a red keychain etched with the same logo as the overhead sign on one side and the room number above a small heart on the other. Eddie shoved his wallet back into his pocket, his arm wrapping around your waist to usher you out of the main office, calling out a ‘thank you’ as you left.

“What the fuck was that?” You grabbed your bag from the back of the van, shooting him a death glare only to be met with that ridiculous smirk he so loved to taunt you with.

“What, you don’t wanna be my bride?” He faux pouted, dark waves falling in his face as you reached for his bag. You over-exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, starting to walk toward the room.

“Guess it’s the atmosphere of this place getting to me, babydoll.” He slammed the door of the van, jogging to catch up with you as you started putting the key in the door lock. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how that little nickname made your heart want to burst out of your chest, Eddie always knew exactly how to push your buttons in the best way and this was no exception.

The sight that greeted you beyond the door was like something out of a 70’s porno, wood paneled walls framing crimson velour window trimmings, a matching velvet comforter sprawled across the queen bed. Two poorly painted angels sat perched atop the heart shaped headboard, like prying eyes seeing every depraved act carried out on the altar below. Sure enough, at the far end of the suite was a heart shaped jacuzzi tub, tiled steps leading up and mirrors lining the walls of the corner it was tucked into.

You dropped your bag on top of the mahogany dresser across from the bed, and as you turned on your heel to shut the door behind Eddie, you couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter at the cross hanging above the door frame. The idea that anything happening in this sex den was god-honoring was definitely scoff-worthy.

“What d'ya say we put that thing to use? My back is killing me and I bet those jets would feel killer.” Eddie’s fingertips dug firm indents into the flesh of your hip, a not-so-subtle indication of what his intentions were for the night.

“Whatever you want, daddy.” You winked, taking a step forward until his large hand gripped your forearm.

“What did you just call me?” He questioned, brow quirked in curiosity.

“It’s our wedding night, remember? Don’t you wanna start a family?” Your tone was playful but truthfully something about this place was stirring a feeling so raw inside of you that you weren’t kidding in the slightest.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Eddie released his grip, slapping your ass as you walked away to turn on the faucet for the tub.

“Won’t need to anyway, I’ll be sitting in your shitty van for 12 more hours.” You knew exactly how to push his buttons, and insulting any of his women (his guitar, his van, and you) was the quickest way to do so.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” He half-snapped at you, digging through his duffle bag in an ill-fated attempt to stop himself from watching the way you wiggled your ass while you bent over the side of the tub, watching the waterline rise.

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” You found yourself deliberately arching your back toward to accentuate the curve of your ass, hoping with every fiber of your being he’d stop what he was doing and manhandle you a little.

“Only if you don’t stop with the bratty attitude.” He glanced over at you and immediately dropped the shirt he was pretending to fold back into his bag, finally giving up on his resistance and approaching you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your pj shorts and underwear, roughly yanking them down to expose your ass.

“Gotta get you outta these if we’re gonna take that bath.” His tone had returned to that lighthearted sarcasm that you loved to hate, and you almost let yourself sink back against him. Instead, you stood upright again, taking the hem of his tattered Iron Maiden shirt in your grip and lifting it up his torso until he pulled it the rest of the way over his head.

Just as he reached to do the same to your tank top, you turned away and reached for the tap again, putting a stop to the stream of running water. He gripped your waist, pulling you back against him before pulling your tank over your head, leaving you fully naked.

“Get in.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine that had goosebumps rising over your skin. Maybe it was your residual high, or the lovesick atmosphere of your surroundings, but everything felt heightened, your skin more sensitive, his presence behind you more intimidating, his voice more intoxicating.

You ascended the short step and sunk into the bath, the water level rising to not quite cover your chest as you laid back into the left arch of the heart. Eddie watched your every move, eyes glued to your hips to drink in the way your form shifted with every step. He made quick work of removing his jeans, letting the stiff denim pool at his feet as he watched you settle in, your gaze drifting to the waistband of his plaid boxers. He pulled them down at an almost agonizing slow pace, exposing inch after inch of his semi-hard shaft to your waiting eyes until his cock sprung free, the sheer weight of him causing his length to slap against his upper thighs.

You absentmindedly pressed your thighs together, trying to dull the ache between them to no avail. You never truly got used to seeing him fully naked, blushing like a naive virgin every time you had the privilege of seeing him like this. The muscles of his thigh flexed as he took the step up to level with the lip of the tub, towering over you before sinking into the water beside you. He was an Adonis, all toned muscle under a tender layer of plush tissue that made for the perfect sleeping partner, strong and comforting all the same.

“Come here, doll.” He patted his thigh, the water swaying with the movement alongside the low hum of his voice. You rose to your knees, floating to the other side of the tub and straddling his lap, your core sitting dangerously close to his cock. His hands found your hips, calloused fingertips digging into your soft skin with a squeeze before gliding up your sides, his thumbs ghosting over the sides of your breasts almost teasingly while he admired the way water droplets dripped down over your nipples.

“Always so gorgeous.” He groaned, strong hands finally encompassing your breasts, kneading tender flesh as his rough palms gave your stiff peaks the friction they desperately craved.

His touch lit a fire within you, and as much as the way that he looked at you with such admiration made your heart melt, your need was becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You shifted forward, rubbing your folds over the length of his shaft with a hunger, desperate for stimulation.

Before you knew it he had dropped his grip from your chest, threading a hand into your hair to yank your head softly back, drawing a gasp from your throat.

“Did I tell you you could move?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow. He couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, it just came so naturally to him, and knowing that he had such an immense effect on you gave him the ego boost of the century. You shook your head as much as you could given the grip he held on your tresses, and choked out a soft ‘no’ in response before clearing your throat.

“I-I think I deserve some relief after being in the van all day.” You tried to put up a fight, not quite done riling him up, but your tone was quickly losing all conviction and Eddie could see you slipping further into desperation.

“You don’t deserve anything, you’ve been a pampered little passenger princess for 16 hours while I’ve done all of the work to get us here.” He yanked your hair back even further, craning your neck to look up at the baby pink popcorn ceiling. The sting in your scalp brought tears to your eyes, the liquid breaching your waterline leaving dark mascara trails down your cheeks in its wake.

“You’re being awfully bratty, doll, where’d my sweet girl go?” He cooed, free hand cupping your cheek as he loosened his grip ever so slightly to allow you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m just so sore.” You sniffled, tears still falling from the shame the disappointment in his tone made you feel.

“Don’t cry baby, just need you to listen, okay?” He dropped his grip on your hair, both hands cupping your face, looking lovingly into your glazed eyes. You could feel his cock growing beneath you, the sight of dark makeup running down your tear stained face serving as the perfect aphrodisiac. He adored seeing you all messy like this, his perfect angel looking like a filthy whore, only for his eyes to see.

“Think we can both get some relief tonight if you’re good, can you be good for me?” You frantically nodded your head. “Yes, I promise!” Your enthusiasm made him laugh low in the back of his throat, that goofy smile returning to his face.

“Need you to use your words and tell me what you want, can you do that?” His tone held sickly sweet condescension and you could feel yourself slipping into that mind numbing headspace, wishing he could just slip into your mind for a moment and see all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you inside, please.” Your words came out barely above a whisper and he knew he wouldn’t get too much more out of you before you devolved into a mewling mess, too lost in your own mind to articulate your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but play with you a little longer.

“Inside where, sweetheart? Here?” He mused, bringing his free hand to your mouth, pointer and middle fingers prodding at your parted lips. You quickly took them in, sucking softly on his digits as you shook your head no, oral fixation too strong to pass up the opportunity to have any part of him in your mouth.

“If that’s not what you want then you need to tell me, don’t be greedy.” He pulled his fingers from your lips with a pop, his tone falling an octave. Your eyes widened, nodding in acknowledgment, willing to do anything to please him at this point.

“I-I need you down here, please.” You took his wrist in your shaky hand, guiding him down to dip into the warm water, lifting your hips slightly so his hand could fit in the tight space between your bodies, pressing his fingertips to the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You stopped, releasing his wrist, not wanting to break any unknown rule and let him take the reins from there. He brought the heel of his palm up to rut firmly against your clit, drawing quiet whimpers as you did your best to stay still.

“What do you want here, doll? My fingers, or something else?” He teased, dipping two of his fingers inside only up to the first knuckle, the slight stimulation almost torturous as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching open the first inch of your cunt.

“God, something else, please.” You sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What then?” He stopped his movements, withdrawing his hand and you groaned from the lack of friction.

“Your cock, Eddie, please just let me ride you.” You swore you were trying to be good, but you were starting to feel like you’d lose your mind if you didn’t get the stimulation you were in desperate need of and you didn’t care how impatient you sounded.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He laughed, his hands gripping your hips to guide you up just enough for his cock to stand upright in the water, the tip bumping against your weeping cunt. “Whenever you’re ready, babydoll. You want it so bad, you’re gonna do the work.”

You took his hint, bringing your hand beneath you to grip his member, finally sinking slowly down onto him until you could feel him in your stomach, the all too anticipated stretch making you cry out in relief after his teasing. He groaned, running a hand through his curls as he settled back against the edge of the tub, watching you start to slowly grind your hips, just feeling how full he made you feel.

After a few minutes you lifted your hips once more, starting a steady pace bouncing on his lap, the head of his cock rubbing against the tender patch of nerves deep inside your cunt, velvety walls engulfing him with every movement. The water surrounding you started to roll like waves, splashing against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto the tile surrounding it. You took notice, slowly your movements to lessen the potential mess, and Eddie sighed.

“We’ll clean it up later baby, just let go.” He reassured you, secretly just as desperate as you were to get off. He didn’t care about a little clean up, let alone wiping some water off the floor.

You were hesitant but returned to your previous pace, angling your hips back to really allow his cock to hit the sensitive place inside you, euphoria slowly building in your core. Your gaze slowly shifted from his face and when you caught the sight of yourself in the mirrors surrounding the tub you gasped, the lewd image of your makeup stained face and your tits bouncing with every movement of your hips was something almost pornographic, really living up to the atmosphere of the room.

Eddie caught where your eyes had shifted to and groaned, throwing his head back to properly watch you get off to your own reflection.

“Look at yourself, bouncing on my cock like a desperate whore, making such a mess.” His hand came down to press against your lower stomach, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit until you were a moaning mess, your thighs burning with the almost brutal pace you were now maintaining.

“Want you to make me a daddy.” He moaned, his breaths becoming more labored. His statement broke you from your trance, your gaze falling back to his as you searched his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but you found none, he wasn’t kidding.

“Can I knock you up, babydoll?” He reiterated the sentiment, increasing the pressure on your clit and feeling you pulse around him, your orgasm dangerously close.

“I need an answer before you or I can cum sweetheart.” He was panting, straining to prevent himself from finishing, and you did everything you could to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes, Eddie, please!” You maimed, tears threatening your waterline from how close you were to the edge.

“Say it.” He groaned, locking eyes with you one last time.

“Please cum inside me daddy, please!” You cried out, tipping over the edge with one last slam of your hips, pleasure rolling over you in tandem with the waves of the water around you, your walls contracting over and over around him until his warmth spread throughout your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against you until the aftershocks stopped wracking your body, relaxing on his lap.

“You okay angel?” His voice was strained but sweet as ever, always concerned about your wellbeing above anything else.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, smiling silently against his neck.

Once you were fully recovered, you raised off of him, both of you wincing at the loss momentarily before sinking under the now lukewarm water for one final rinse. You began to step out, Eddie right behind you to grab your waist when your foot almost slipped out from under you because of the slick tile.

“Careful babydoll, don’t want you to slip.” He held you firm as you stepped down, making sure you were safe on the ground level before following you out, handing you one of the fresh towels from the pile next to the tub. He wiped up the excess water off the ground as you dried yourself off, and you didn’t know if it was the cold air or the rational part of your brain turning back on, but something started to eat at you as you watched your boyfriend dry himself off.

“Is it okay that I called you that?” The worry in your voice almost made Eddie’s heart break into a million pieces, and he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before taking you into his arms.

“I loved it, babydoll, I promise I would tell you if I didn’t.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“How about we put on our pajamas and turn on a movie.” He smiled down at you, waiting for your approving nod before going to your bags on the dresser and pulling out your second pair of pj’s. He helped you into them before pulling on his own old band shirt and fresh boxers and crawling into the gaudy bed with you, cuddling up to watch whatever cheesy horror flick was airing on late night tv.

——

tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @your-nightmaredoll

also tagging: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @eddiesxangel @bimbotrashcan bc i thought you might be interested, please message me if you’d like me to remove you

please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future eddie fics!!

[stariikis]

operation : be your boyfriend | yang jungwon

synopsis ; thousands of ways to say, 'i love you,' and jungwon can't even carry out one special procedure without messing up. that is, until your birthday rolls around and you're greeted by the kitten you've always dreamed of owning, at your doorstep...

pairing ; clumsy!jungwon x fem!reader | genre ; fluff, crushing, confessions | wc ; 2721 | warnings n notes ; you're not oblivious, you're just a little bit of a mastermind sociopath! appearances of sunoo riki heeseung and eunchae in this fic!

baby... i'm just tryna play it cool... but i just can't hide that... i want you ઇઉ

OPERATION 1 : SECRET ADMIRER

“Clearly, he’s not listening to us.” 

“Yang Jungwon…” 

“Yang Jungwon!” 

Jolting back to the present, Jungwon coughs awkwardly and jerks his gaze away from the girl across the room. He didn’t realise he was staring at the mere back of her head the whole time… how embarrassing for him. Shifting his gaze back to his groupmates, staring at him with a bemused expression, he clears his throat. 

“I’m on task,” he tries to say, but it comes out as a pathetic croak from the roof of his mouth. He has to clear his throat again. 

“What a liar,” Riki scoffs, following Jungwon’s prior gaze all the way to the front of the classroom. Doubled over with laughter by the board, yn seems to have an aura of gold surrounding her figure. In between rays of sunlight and flecks of fairydust, the way she smiles lights up the whole room like she’s in a fantasy book. 

Barely trying to conceal it, Sunoo stares towards her direction. Ironically, the words that leave his mouth as he does so are, “can you at least try to hide it? You’re too obvious.”

“I can’t believe she can’t tell yet,” Heeseung mutters. 

For some reason, the whole table goes quiet. In the middle of the silence, Jungwon can only hear the clacking heels of their Maths teacher walking around and the soft rustle of papers, amiable chatter as groups begin to complete their assigned project. But a single voice stands out in the crowd. 

Never mind. Jungwon only hears her now. 

Isn’t it ridiculous? How he believed that his initial crush on her would be short-lived, nothing more than an impulsive attraction that would fade once he got to know her. When she walked up to him, however, saying nothing but a simple ‘thank you for sending me notes for yesterday’s class!’, he felt like his heart would race out of his chest. Unfortunately for him, she was too charismatic. 

With a perfect all-kill streak of grades, she’s never gotten a grade below 90. Not a point out of place. It’s the kind of person Jungwon aspires to be, a much better version of himself. Yes, he gets straight As every term and yes he’s been the class president for three years on end, but it’s nothing compared to her level. 

For the past two years, ever since she joined the class with an air exuding and radiating sheer confidence, Jungwon has been trying hard to beat her. Once would be enough for him. He’s been trying so hard to defeat her, however, that he’s forgotten to try to tame his feelings for her too. 

About a week after he met her, the butterflies churning deep inside his stomach were already too much for him. In her locker, silver letters Jungwon begged Sunoo to help him calligraph donned the bottom of an indirect, vague love letter. From your secret admirer. He doesn’t even remember now what he wrote inside, but he does recall many descriptions of her pretty smile and easygoing personality. 

It was only a day later he found out that he had accidentally dropped it in the locker next to hers. Lee Heeseung from the class beside them walked past, a basketball under one arm and the other hand holding the letter and reading it aloud to Riki, walking briskly beside him. In an instant, Riki looked straight at Jungwon across the hallway and facepalmed. 

OPERATION 1 : SECRET ADMIRER : FAILED

wait a minute, what is this? my heart is going lub-dub, just keeps pounding

even from afar, oh, my, gosh! ; pulling me close, you're, my, crush, like a superpower

OPERATION 2 : INDIRECT CONFESSIONS

Daydreams. Flitting endlessly through your mind, like a paradox. It’s impossible to zone out during Biology. How dull you find the zoomed in aspects of all the systems in your body. Sure, you want to pursue something medical-related, but this class just isn’t it. 

“Jungwon’s staring at you again,” whispers your seatmate, Eunchae. She uses her pen to gesture behind you. Two seats diagonal to you both, Jungwon notices your glances his way and pretends to look elsewhere. He’s resting on the palm of his hand, the paper he took out to take notes on completely blank. 

“I can’t believe he’s the class president again,” you mutter with a tinge of bitterness. 

Eunchae sighs. She’s clearly heard enough of your one-sided disliking towards the student leader, and it shows in the way she decides to disregard you. “You don’t have to hate him. He obviously doesn’t reciprocate the hard feelings.” 

Of course he doesn’t. 

You try to hide a triumphant smile. Of course Jungwon doesn’t harbor any hatred towards you. Rather, it’s quite evident in the way he always asks you to be the first player in his team during PE, asks you if you want to group up with him, makes excuses to brush past you in the hallway – he’s always wanted something more than friendship. 

The one time you did agree to do a Korean Language project with him, however, when he came over to record the podcast you had written, all that got done was a bunch of giggles into the portable microphone. Jungwon, admitably, had a good sense of humor. And it, unfortunately, matched well with yours. 

You’re making this more solemn than it needs to be, you think to yourself, biting back a small smile to yourself. Shouldn’t it be a good thing that you’ve got Jungwon wrapped around your finger? 

Spinning your pen smartly, you sit up. Right. You’ve gotten out of many late homework submissions and responsibilities because Jungwon would literally cover for you with visible hearts in his eyes when he talks about you. You know you should feel guilty for exploiting him, but it’s just what a friend does, isn’t it? 

Friend. Another memory fades in. 

“Yahh, you’re so down bad you can’t even let her do her own work,” Sunoo mutters to Jungwon, quietly rearranging the papers. He thinks you’re out of earshot, but you can hear their conversation clearly from your desk. 

Jungwon shrugs his shoulders in the corner of your eye, and you swear he glances over at you for a second. “She’s my friend. Are you trying to say you never copy my homework?” 

Sunoo tsks loudly. “It’s different. She doesn’t need the help! You’ve seen her grades.” 

They divert into a small argument about whose grades are better, but you’re not really listening anymore. Your heart is starting to race uncontrollably, and you look desperately down at your chest. You’re trembling from the fact that Jungwon called you his friend? How pathetic. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as if juicing your brains of unwanted thoughts. 

But you can’t help but let out a short curse when your heart doesn’t slow down, your cheeks don’t cool off. Only Jungwon wants this. Not you too… 

And so when Eunchae finally gets bored of Bio once again, she leans in and pokes you. “Anyway, you know Jungwon has the fattest crush on you.” 

“Oh really?” you murmur, averting your eyes back to the liver diagram in front of you. Where you’re supposed to label, ‘oxygen-rich-blood’, you’ve scribbled ‘only jungwon’ in illegible handwriting. You pretend to act surprised, hiding the words with the palm of your hand. “He didn’t ask you to say that? Did he? As a prank?” 

Eunchae rolls her eyes. “It’s not a prank.” 

“So he asked you to say it.” 

“...” 

“I see.” You reach into your pencil case and pull out an eraser to wipe away the traces of your daydreams. It’s a good thing you do, because Eunchae suddenly looks over and teases you for falling asleep in lesson when you’re usually such a good student. If only she knew about the homework incidences. If only she knew about the thoughts that run through your head. 

What he’s trying to do is kind of… cute.

OPERATION 2 : INDIRECT CONFESSIONS : FAILED

my heart feels like a giant magnet, everything about you sticks to my heart, boy

we're magnetized, i admit it. this time, i want!

OPERATION 3 : LET'S GET IT!

She’s got to be joking, right? There’s no way… 

“Yeah, idiot, you’re invited to my birthday party. You got a problem with that?” (Name) scoffs at Jungwon, retracting the simplistic black and white invitation card in her hand. “Maybe you don’t deserve this?” 

“No!” He says a little too fast, reaching out to snatch it from her playfully. 

He reads it with a poorly hidden smile. Is he even trying at this point? He’s been on the verge of a proper confession for a while now. Why would he want to hide the fact that he really really really wants her to be his? 

“15 May?” He sighs, feigning disappointment. “Too bad, I can’t make it.” 

Wait for it…

“Really? That’s too bad,” she replies monotonously, walking away without a care. Not the reaction Jungwon was expecting. He releases a breath of air, only now realising that he’s been holding his breath. How boring of her. 

“I was lying!” He calls, smoothing out his school uniform and running down the hallway after her. “I’m definitely coming!” 

She clearly starts to laugh as she runs away from him, yelling, “come or not, it doesn’t matter to me!” 

Jungwon doesn’t give up. With a hand running through his hair, he chases her down the halls. He would chase after her for eternity if he had to. Eventually, he catches up to her with a tap on the shoulder. WIth a mock-annoyed look, she slows down, shoving his shoulder.

“What’s your problem?” She huffs, “Can’t I get a break around here?” 

Jungwon smiles. With just the right amount of delusion, maybe he can convince himself that whatever she’s spouting is just a white lie. Untruths to cover up the truth. She wants him back, he swears!

“You’ll never get a break,” he mumbles, suddenly going shy as he leans in closer. Just like I practiced with Riki. Just like I practiced…

“Annoyi–”

“From running through my mind all day.” 

When Jungwon finally dares to open his eyes (yes, he was so scared he closed them), he’s shocked to see an empty spot next to him. When he looks up and down the hallway, (Name) sticks out her tongue at him, taunting him. The unbothered glimmer in her eyes reveals that she hasn’t heard a thing. 

Once again, Jungwon leaves school with a pit of mild disappointment in his stomach. Not so upset that it hurts like hell, but the wound’s deep enough to leave a scratch.

OPERATION 03 : LET'S GET IT! : FAILED

completely opposite, our type ; you're J and i'm so P

S and N, polar opposites, but that's what pulls us in

INTERMISSION : BABY YOU'RE MY CRUSH

You hear it all.

What would Jungwon say when he finds out, that for a while now, you’ve been wrestling with your own complicated feelings, playing a game of tug of war inside your own heart? Nobody even knows you know. Nobody would even suspect you, of all people, to reciprocate Jungwon’s feelings. And, by this encounter, even Jungwon himself has no idea. 

i'll make it have a green light, girl's gotta have guts. so, let's go let's go, let's go let's go!

don't wanna hide it, the magnet in my heart. gonna follow my feelings and get with you, boy

OPERATION 4 : CATCH SOME FELINES (FEELINGS)

What would Jungwon do for love? Just ask him this one question. He’ll probably lie and tell you he doesn’t know, and doesn’t fall for the traps set out by catching feelings, but it won’t explain why he’s outside (name)’s house on her birthday at 8 in the morning. He could very well have come at 9, an hour before the party starts, but he wants to have some time alone with her. 

To present his gift to her, snugly bundled up in his arms. And to, uh, say some other stuff. 

He looks down at the pearl-white fluffy being, purring contently in his arms. Just a while ago, he got his inspiration for a birthday gift for her. She may have casually brought it up in the midst of discussion for yet another group project, but miniscule things like that stick with Jungwon for ages. 

“I want a cat…” she whines, when their group’s gotten sidetracked from their discussion topic. (what do you think the rate of pet ownership is like in Korea?) “they’re so cute. Oh, even better, a kitten!” 

“Just get one then?” Eunchae rolls her eyes, and Riki hums in agreement. 

“I would. Even my mum wants one. But it’s so much work to adopt one.” 

So much work to adopt one? Jungwon scoffs in his mind. Now take a look at the lengths I’ve gone to for you. And I don’t even know if you like me back. Am I stupid or am I stupid? 

“Yes, Jungwon? Can I know why you’ve summoned me so early in the morning?” Suddenly, the front door opens after many persistent tries to ring the doorbell. “I know you’re excited for my birthday… but this is just weird.” 

She doesn’t notice the kitten squirming in his arms, still rubbing her eyes blearily. She looks so exhausted that Jungwon wants to apologise for awakening her and almost runs away to save himself from the awkwardness. But he stands his ground. This time, he will succeed. 

The chronicles of Yang Jungwon’s confession story. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

“Happy birthday.” He murmurs softly, daring to take a step closer and hold out his arms. At first, she squints down at the blur of fur in his hands, face smeared with confusion. It’s only when the furry ball lets out a small mew that she gasps and jerks her head back up. “I… I, uh…” 

Seeing her so amazed, with tears gathering in her eyes from the euphoria, he loses track of his words. His mind goes blank. Not knowing whether to continue calmly, or panic and die on the spot, he struggles to speak and feels his cheeks quickly growing with warmth. 

What if, just like we practiced doesn’t reassure him anymore, with the last time he used it as an affirmation turning out to be the greatest embarrassment of his life? Just like we practiced? He’s never practiced to be fluent and smooth. He’s always naturally been that way. He’s never had to fumble for the right words to say. Just like we practiced? When would he ever practice worst comes to worst with Riki? Come to think of it, he probably should have. He can’t handle standing here with such shame any longer. 

“I’m sorry for being so annoying I just really really like you and I don’t know whether you’ll like this gift or not, but I can’t go another day thinking you probably don’t like me back you can just reject me that’ll be better than misleading myself forever and ever…” 

He blurts in a small voice. 

And then, he repeats himself, louder and more confident. Like he usually is. “I like you…” 

“You must be blind, Yang Jungwon,” she says, laughing through the tears. A moment of silence passes as Jungwon tries to comprehend what he’s just heard. Blind? Why? She’s not going to say… “I like you, too?” 

It’s a question. It makes his heart race, but it doesn’t seem like enough.

“You do?” He chokes, his voice failing him. Blood rushes to his ears. “You don’t.” 

“Wait.” She clears her throat and claims, “I got nervous. I do. And it’s not the kitten, I know what you’re thinking…” 

Taking a step back, she receives the kitten into her arms and coos while Jungwon tries to process everything. “Though I’m so surprised, and so grateful. This gift is the most thoughtful thing ever. No joke.” 

She knows what I’m thinking… 

Jungwon frowns and steps even closer. He’s so close and she’s so pretty, teary eyelashes gleaming in the morning sunlight. “So you’ve known what I’ve been thinking, huh?” 

“I have.” 

The hard, challenging tone that seeps into her voice is all too familiar to Jungwon. When she leads him into her house for the second time in his life, all he’s thinking is, what a way to reminisce the moment he fell in love with her. 

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh, but I do!” 

A game of wits, you could call it, is what sixteen year old them are playing. Head to head in number of points, they’re competing for first place. Jungwon hides behind his whiteboard, eagerly awaiting her response. She’s never going to guess what he had in mind. She’ll never write the same exact thing, letter for letter— 

“I know what you’re thinking.” She whispers mockingly, smirking as she reveals her answer while peeking over the top of his board. The answers match up. She’s won. “I know exactly what goes on in your head.”

OPERATION 4 : CATCH SOME FELINES (FEELINGS) : SUCCESS!

no push and pull, gonna run to you ; our chemistry yeah, i'm in too deep now no push and pull, no regrets, gonna zero in on you ; never holding back straight ahead, yeah 

this time, i want!

more of my works >

[theidiotwhowrites]

Workplace Weirdo

Warning; Fluff

You Have Been Warned

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

Click, Clack, Click

Made the sound of your shoes as you walked through the halls of Gotham's Police Department.

Rumor has it that working in the GCPD wasn't easy and it was quite the work load given Gotham's extremely high crime rate but you transfered to there anyhow.

It was your first day on the job as the new detective in town and you felt a mix of confidence and anxiety.

The mistakes you could make running through your mind, trying to ignore the tightening felling in your chest.

Your eyes glanced at the busy officers and of course the one's who don't care at all.

The dark and dampness of the building made your bad feeling worse, mixed with unfamiliar sounds.

Bearly any sun shined out of the windows and the celling lights flicker and blink aggressively, giving you a headache.

After a while of looking for you office, you finally found it, it's as you expected, sad looking.

You move to place your box with the things you own, accidentally bumping into someone.

The box drops from your hands.

"Oh-oh my, I am so sorry, I didn't mean too."

The man in front of you apologized profusely, fiddling with his hands.

Strands of his hair falls on to his face, picking up the light box and handing to back to you, You thank him.

You put down the piece of cardboard on a table, wipe off your clothes that somehow got dust on them.

He shyly picks up his glasses from the ground, putting them on.

"I wasn't really paying attention-" You cut him off.

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Your hands get a hold of his glasses frames, fixing them on his face.

"That's much better" you say with a smile.

Little did you know this would be the start of a long lasting friendship, and maybe something more.

After you settled in, the days that go by had only been stressful mornings and exhausted nights, but at least you had one person to brighten the dullness, even by a little, or in this case, a lot, given the fact that you found an envelope addressed to you paired with a red rose on your desk.

When you open the envelope, you find a letter with the words

"I am available in thousands of colors. Each color symbolizes different aspects of love. I am used to celebrate new beginnings and express heartfelt goodbyes. What am I?"

The green of the writing contrasting with the plain white of the background, You smile while reading it, glancing at the rose...

[yamanorakuen]

Obey Me! characters as songs from Midnights by Taylor Swift

I used to assign Taylor Swift songs to the characters and now that Ms. Swift has dropped a new record I felt obliged to do this. Hi, it's me, haven't been around in ages but I'm still the same. I kind of lost interest in Obey Me! during summer but lately I've been coming back around to it again! How are you all?

Anyway, without further ado, read my assessment below. (There's also some glitch with the colors and sizing of the letters, I can't fix it without a new problem appearing.)

Lucifer: The Great War

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground And maybe it was egos swinging Maybe it was her Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

Mammon: Paris

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling No, I didn't see the news 'Cause we were somewhere else Stumbled down pretend alleyways Cheap wine, make believe it's champagne

Leviathan: Labyrinth

"It only hurts this much right now" Was what I was thinkin' the whole time Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out I'll be gettin' over you my whole life

Satan: Karma

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me Flexing like a goddamn acrobat Me and karma vibe like that

Asmodeus: Bejeweled

Best believe I'm still bejeweled When I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer And when I meet the band They ask, "Do you have a man?" I could still say, "I don't remember"

Beelzebub: Sweet Nothing

Outside they're push and shoving You’re in the kitchen hummin’ All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Belphegor: Vigilante Shit

I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends Don't get sad, get even So on the weekends I don't dress for friends Lately I've been dressin' for revenge

Diavolo: Anti-Hero

Sometimes, I feel like everybody is a sexy baby And I'm a monster on the hill Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city Pierced through the heart, but never killed

Barbatos: Mastermind

What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me Nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork, and then Just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine

Simeon: Snow On The Beach

Flying in a dream Stars by the pocketful You wanting me Tonight feels impossible But it's coming down No sound, it's all around

Luke: You're On Your Own, Kid

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned Everything you lose is a step you take So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it You've got no reason to be afraid

Solomon: Glitch

I was supposed to sweat you out In search of glorious happenings of happenstance on someone else's playground But it's been two-thousand one-hundred ninety days of our love blackout

Here it is! What were your favorite tracks from Midnights? What do you think of the album as a whole?

I liked it, it's not my favorite Taylor album and it needed a bit of time to grow on me, but I think it's satisfactory. My favorite songs are Maroon, The Great War, Dear Reader and Mastermind. I really love all of the 3am tracks... Main album tracks are more of a hit or miss for me, mostly hit, but 3am tracks NEVER miss.

If you have any questions about my choices, answer my questions on just anything you want to say, feel free to comment :)

[ravenelyx]

6, 13, 29 love!!!

Aceee!! <3 helloo

Here you go !!

6- What’s the last line you wrote?

I don't really remember which one between those two is the actual last, so I'll spoil and post both :")

From the upcoming chapter of I love you in every timeline:

Sebastian looked at Daphne as she disappeared up the stairs with a growing dread in his chest, her sister's letter tightly clutched in her hand. She'll be back to Hogwarts soon, she had said.

From a upcoming crackfic / one-shot I've been working on:

And so she did — hesitantly, reluctantly, and only because she didn't want poor Sebastian to go through whatever the red-head had set him up with alone. If the potion killed them, at least they would die together.

13- Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

Not at all - it's far too distracting for me :")

29- What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I'm not sure how to answer this... I suppose I actually like it when I write those sort of ironic, cute sentences here and there. So far: those are some of my favourites :")

From ILYET:

Sebastian followed suit, stepping on the soft ground of the pub. He frowned slightly and looked down, confused as to why one would deprive himself of the privilege of a stone floor.

It turned out the only privilege the owner deprived himself of was hygiene.

"This place hasn’t been cleaned in centuries, has it?" He asked, kicking the dirt with the point of his shoes.

From upcoming wips (including new ilyet chapters)

A few apples from a sketchy house hidden in a corner in Hogsmeade? Perfectly edible, if not a bit chalky.

A glass of Firewhiskey lying around in a Scriptorium that hasn't been opened for thousands of years? Only a little sour.

A soupçon of whatever Garreth had conceived while watching Poppy Sweeting accidentally drop a string of her hair that caught up in her hands into her cauldron while adding Newt spleens to her Everlasting Elixir? She would get a stomach pump for less.

---

The ones still showering hadn't even drawn the curtains, splashing water and soap everywhere as they violated each and every rule of public nudity regulation; the others were laughing and chattering, pushing each other over as they dressed. It was going to be a long shower.

"I'm still washing the soap off," he replied curtly as the blond jolted here and there to avoid the flying drops of water.

Ominis wiped his face with the hem of his robe, a frown on his face.

---

"Well, I would have loved to visit Honeydukes as I'm… well… not from here as you know!" He answered stubbornly, and you almost rolled your eyes. He deflated — perhaps the only reason he should actually visit Honeydukes is to commission himself a huge birthday cake with golden lettering that spelt 'Officially Pathetic N.1'

That's pretty much it, though... <3

Ask game here <3

[starfaring-princelotor]

*peeks* Demi-sexual & demi-romantic reader? If requests are still open of course? No angst *please* but the rest is up to you. And if you do decide to accept it, *please* dont feel obligated to finish by the end of the month?

Proof

*

Summary: For once, you show Lotor the meaning of romance.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

Warnings: N/A

*

Romantic. Lotor was often described as such, both by his peers and his lovers. It was no surprise that he had spent many years mastering the art of wooing, if just by using a few smartly placed compliments. That particular skill also went hand in hand with lascivious acts behind the door, too. But very few were able to differentiate when he was being nice and truly trying to share his heart with another. 

It often landed him in trouble where that L-word was involved, which usually entailed after a nightly tumble in the sheets. Making love? Expert. Saying love? That was a bit more difficult. He would be lying to himself if he said that, sometimes, not even he could formulate how he felt into understandable words. Or at least, words that made sense to you. 

Lotor turned the marvelously shimmering seashell in his hand, recalling the day you first gave him the sapphire gift, “How come you picked blue?”

“What?”

“Blue. You picked a blue shell. When we were at Rainbow Beach, out of all the colors available, you chose blue,” he clarified, “Not…that I am complaining, no. I am simply curious.”

You put down one of the many artifacts Lotor decorated in the gallery. Fine arts from those he knew, those he respected, those who were just starting out. Even some little knick-knacks he deemed worthy sat upon marble pedestals. This was his own little museum. You took note of every bit of detail he shared with you for each one had a story of their own. 

“I remember you saying you like the color blue.” You traced your finger over the smooth curve of the shell, “Plus, in the right light, it reminds me of your eyes.”

That glint of purple shining with blue was really a beautiful sight to behold. It was rare, just like this shell, and the explanation did not go over Lotor’s head. You knew how to be equally as romantic when you were around him and only him. The connection, it was there, and both of you knew it after sharing post-bliss thoughts several times during pillow talk. 

Things like your personal dreams. Things like his idyllic future. Things that changed from passing flirtatious winks to deep emotional ties he rarely feels when connecting with someone. Even now, with that simple compliment, he found his heart skipping a beat in his chest, telling him one of two things. Either he should go see a doctor about that or what you said, what you remembered him sharing that one time, left him feeling romanced for a change. 

Lotor was so used to giving that receiving this subtle love-without-saying-love? It brought a radiant smile on his lips. 

“You flatter me, darling,” was the only thing he could say, eyes softening at the delicate way your fingers traced the edge of the shell before eventually landing on his fingertips. 

“I flatter you? I have a few hundred love letters proving that you, sir, tend to go overboard with the art of seduction.”

All that got out of him was a shameless chuckle. Those nights he spent effortlessly spilling his words on the parchment, an old romantic gesture you once told him, was perhaps his favorite past time. Lotor found it easier to express his secretive feelings through paper rather than through his voice. He would sooner write those three little words rather than speak them, for the proof was much more solid when seen, no?

That is what he told himself and that is what you understood without question. 

“I will send you hundreds more, dear, if it means I may selfishly spend many waking nights with you by my side,” a promise he sealed with a gentlemanly kiss to your cheek, followed by a soft nudge of his nose, “This gift is by far one of my favorites. It has a special place in my heart.”

“Down, boy, you already have me,” you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath at his simple yet potent affection, “I will get you so many blue things - “

“I do not speak of the shell, beloved. I speak of this.” 

With a smooth motion of his hand, he timidly clasped your free wrist and placed it over his chest, right where his caged heart resided. The message was loud and clear and real. Love was often forced upon him when he did not reciprocate that feeling. When his intentions were often misunderstood, or he was considered cold-hearted for closing himself off. With you, however, you took the time to know him. Took the time to understand him in the same way he did with you. 

And Lotor would forever appreciate what you showed him. You showed him that romance? Just like the age old dance of love, it took two to tango.

[evanjinx]

alternative universe buddie fics recs :)

note: the links weren't working the first time i wrote the post but i edited and they're okay now!! if it still isn't working for you is probably because you're trying to open from a reblog from before i edit it, so try open directly from the original post on my profile.

Blind Date by @sassypopstar [complete | teen and up audiences | 3.8k words]

Buck feels a little ridiculous dressed in a jacket and a shirt. But Maddie had insisted on him dressing up for the occasion and even Chimney had quipped that it’s the right thing to do. So Buck, who never went on a blind date before in his life, listened to his big sister and her boyfriend because apparently that’s who he is now. Or the one where Buck goes on a blind date with someone called Eddie.

Buckley's Bouquets by awashleyno [complete | teen and up audiences | 23.4k words]

A world where Buck owns a flower shop and manages to develop a huge, massive, ridiculous crush on a handsome firefighter that comes in for a visit one day. Or, 5 times Eddie gives flowers to other people and the 1 time he gives them to Buck.

Call It What You Will - Fate? Destiny? (A Tsunami) by @abow123456 [complete | mature | 20k words]

Evan Buckley's day of relaxation is cut short when a tsunami hits the beach he was relaxing at. He has to fight to keep himself and a lost little boy safe from the water, as well as anyone else he finds. After, he meets the boys father and family, and it causes a snowball effect of good things for him, for once.

Capuccino with extra, extra sugar by buckbng [complete | teen and up audiences | 2.7k words]

Buck is the cute barista and Eddie is the grinch that hates coffee. Until, he doesn't. Because if Buck says he looks like the kind of person that would love a cappuccino, who's Eddie to disagree with him? OR Eddie really doesn't like coffee but pretends he does just so he has an excuse to see the cute barista at the coffee shop.

Confirmation Bias by strifechaos [complete | mature | 31k words]

After the fallout with his ex-wife, Eddie believed he could only trust his family with his son. He hadn’t imagined falling for his son’s sweet-hearted nanny, Buck. With his own family so distant, Buck never considered that he’d be lucky enough to find a home for himself, let alone people he could count on. Not until he meets the Diaz boys. AU: Buck was never a firefighter, and becomes Christopher's sitter when Shannon's job takes her away from Eddie and Chris for the summer. Eddie tries to not fall for his son's nanny, he's not very successful.

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings [complete | mature | 7.3k words]

Evan Buckley is lost. It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door. Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name. Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Frequent Flyer by red_to_black [complete | mature | 13.4k words]

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer. (Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

Gave me no messages, gave me no signs... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 7.4k words]

"Buck is beyond nervous, and he’s really trying to convince himself that the familiarity of the situation is not some sort of bad omen. Just because there are parallels of the start of his relationship with Eddie to that of his relationship with Abby doesn’t mean that this new adventure is destined to end in the same miserable fashion. He hopes it won’t, has to believe it won’t. Because even with Abby, he hadn’t fallen this hard for her before their first official date. With Eddie, everything is already intensified by a thousand." Or, Buck covers a shift for a firefighter at the 136 and it leads to a budding relationship through text messages.

Gotta Find My Corner (Of the Sky) by doctornineandthreequarters [complete | general audiences | 31.3k words]

It was the last day of 2016 and two lost souls found themselves in a quiet dive bar, as the loud noises of the city celebrating New Year’s Eve buzzed around them. Most people chose loud, flashy bars with DJs and entrance fees and promises of champagne for New Year’s Eve. But both occupants of the dive bar preferred the quiet. They both didn’t need the added chaos when everything around them already felt chaotic. --- Or, Buck and Eddie meet on New Year's Eve, 2016, a meeting that sets of a series of events that changes the trajectory of both of their lives.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Till I Saw Your Face by @hmslusitania [complete | general audiences | 10.4k words]

After the ladder truck and the blood clot and the tsunami, Bobby makes Buck go to therapy before he does something stupid (like sue the city). Buck's not totally comfortable being alone with a therapist, but fortunately he makes a friend and ally who's willing to help him out - Eddie Diaz from the 136 who's just been caught in an illegal fight club. OR Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

i want your midnights by allyasavedtheday [complete | teen and up audiences | 36.3k words]

In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

i wanna be know (by you) by @starlightbuck [complete | general audiences | 12.5k words]

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief.

“How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?”

Or  In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

if i got locked away (would you still love me the same?) by @firefighterhan [complete | general audiences | 3.7k words]

Buck gets accidentally thrown in jail after meddling in a fight outside of a grocery store. There, he meets an unexpected guest, famous music artist Eddie Diaz, who is being suspiciously quiet about how he ended up here in the first place.

if only in my dreams by @buttercupbuck [complete | general audiences | 5.4k words]

Years before Eddie joins the 118, Buck meets him at an airport bar on Christmas day.

in a week by @buttercupbuck [complete | explicit | 78.9k]

in which Eddie joins the U.S. Forest Service and in the meadows of California, finds the things he thought he lost and the things he thought he'd never have.

It Started With A Bang And A Hostage Situation by JayJay__884 [complete | general audiences | 6.6k words]

Buck goes to the store one late night to buy food because of Maddie's pregnancy cravings. Whilst at the store, Buck accidentally gets caught in the middle of a robbery and gets knocked out. After waking up in the backroom, Buck finds himself as a hostage with a handsome and caring stranger.

Leading with the Left by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 84.7k]

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

Lift me up by @captain--sif [complete | teen and up audiences | 5.5k words]

Buck gets stuck in his apartment building's broken elevator with his good-looking neighbor from the sixth floor.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 11.2k words]

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

*stupidly handsome and annoyingly talented rival spy

Mr. Buckley's After Hours Detention by aresaphrodites [complete | mature | 11.4k words]

It’s not like Eddie Diaz planned on this. Really, there was no scenario in his mind where he would ever be bringing his son’s teacher a freaking goody basket to class; a homemade goody basket, no less. Then again, Christopher has never had a teacher quite like Evan Buckley.

MukbangsWithBuck by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 19.3k words]

After growing tired of eating alone in his loft, Buck decides to start a YouTube channel where he records himself eating dinner and telling stories about crazy things his team has encountered on calls. He eventually gains a substantial fanbase, and he is led to the channel of another LA firefighter who uploads informational videos and also casual vlogs with his ten-year-old son. It isn't long before the two start a friendship through messages, both of them secretly hoping it will turn into something more. Or, Eddie and Buck are both firefighters/YouTubers and they end up falling in love.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates [complete | explicit | 139.1k words]

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.  But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie. Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back. He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head. 

Passive Aggressive Flirting by @starlingbite [complete | general audiences | 4.5k words]

Buck and Eddie have never met. They both work at the 118 but just on different shifts. That's all about to change when Buck finds a sticky note message, signed E.

String of hearts... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 11.1k words]

“Now. Eddie is this incredible presence. He’s funny and smoking hot, and he has a son who sounds wonderful. And he’s serious and vulnerable at times. But so enjoyable to be around, every single second that he’s there. And how can I put myself out there when the expectation is so high? When the thing I might lose is so beautiful?”

In which Buck owns a plant shop in LA, and Eddie becomes his new favorite customer. Pining ensues.

check out my post of buddie fics with dad!buck

[spiltscribbles]

9!! or 33! also ur writing is beautiful god i love it sm u r a gift ALSO I FUCKING LOVE UR -as a syrian- SYIRAN REMUS/HOPE HC SOOO MUCH U DONT UNDERSTAND THE JOY THAT WRITING RIGHT THERE IS MY LIFELINE I GENUINELY MADE ME SO HAPPY WHEN I SAW THAT AND am bitmanna lakki isboo3 7illo mitlik <33

Notes: Oh God habit I am absolutely balling with tears! like babes I don’t even know what to say i am just an entire mess!! I am going through a real drought with my writing because of a lot of annoying fucked up personal life shit but I am really really trying to get back into the swing of things, this is short I know, so rohee, please send me another prompt and maybe I can write something longer, Wallah I’m trying, but my brain is just such shit right now :( But I included Vivian in this because of you and I adore you babes xxx

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FROM THIS LIST || SEND ME A PROMPT || BUY ME A COFFEE💜

.-

Sometimes Sirius looks at Remus in moments like these— quiet and contemplative amidst a crisp summer night and cloaked in the glow of a thousand burning stars hanging above them like a benediction— and all he feels is that strange cocktail of wanting and yearning and aching that infests his bones and festers in his gut and sometimes threatens to shatter open his ribcage with the startling ferocity of it. But other times he looks at Remus and all he feels, all he knows and all he can understand, is a simmering sort of desperation, like embers being stoked in his heart. Desperate for so much of him, for any part of him, desperate for all of him. Desperate to relearn the facets of Remus that the werewolf had locked away with such unflinching precision nearly four months ago. Ever since that April night that none of them speak about, the night they make it a point to try and forget, to exhaust every flicker of energy to avoid. The night that created a fisher between Remus and the other Marauders that none of them knew how to begin to cement over, to repair, to make it back to how it had been.

But it’s better now, if only slightly. Remus had begun talking to Sirius willingly by mid May, and had begun openly laughing with him in June. And now— Well now they’re here— Or well, perhaps the better turn of phrase is that Sirius is here. Sirius is on the Swansea coast, spending the final fleeting week of the summer before their sixth year with the Lupins after Remus had miraculously agreed to as much, and it feels like maybe it can be the start of healing, or something like healing at the very least.

It’s been a week of blink and you’ll miss it smiles in the mornings and carefully calculated distances so they can’t ever accidentally knock shoulders or brush hands throughout the days, and their nights are spent usually passing a discrete joint back and forth before sleeping stiffly besides one another on Remus’s old twin sized mattress. But despite the icy overture Sirius has been suffering through, it’s still an olive branch all the same, and Remus is on the other side of it— he reckons that he’d just about walk through a thousand stinging hexes just for the chance of them returning to their normal once more.

And it’s the candor in that contemplation that steels Sirius’s resolve to make it till term begins after the fourth morning and he feels his insides crumble up into a ball, watch as Remus flinches back when their pinkies tap against one another reaching for the plate of goat cheese on the table spread of the traditional, Arabian breakfast that Vivian makes every Friday morning.

“Well that’s sweet,” Remus’s aforementioned mother squawks, thankfully shattering the awkwardness of the moment before it ever can actually begin, rising gracefully to meet her muggle husband at the door, holding a frilly lace bag of sweets in one hand and a letter in the other. “When did you get this, love?”

“I didn’t. A bloody owl dropped it off.”

Remus and Sirius’s eyes lock onto one another immediately, both familiar with the glistening, golden and scarlet paper Mrs Potter favors, and her habit of sending random packages of fudge whenever she fancies. So neither of them are surprised when Vivian’s bright, nearly amber eyes— the same shade of Remus’s own— go alight and focusses towards them. “We should bake something to send back to James’s mother, don’t you think Remi.”

Remus flushes, hates the endearment his mother calls him more than his actual name, though Sirius can’t help but think it’s fucking cute as hell on all counts.

“Oi, I think you should Ms Hussein, ’s only right, innit?”

“Stuff it, Black.” Remus hisses, elbows him on the side with a barely concealed smirk.

“No, nah, Remus, your man is spot on. You both should bake something sweet, say thank you and all.”

Remus glares straight forwards, boring his molten eyes into Sirius’s own and it’s the first time it feels like there’s a thawing between them— No. More than that. It feels like he has his Remus back. It feels like maybe those breaths of moment even— those breaths when it was just the two of them and they’d lock their smallest fingers or end up spooning on Remus’s bed or just staring soulfully at one another because there is nothing else they’d rather be doing.

Those breaths of moment that hinted at so much more.

“Hmm, right.” Remus says in that quiet, mishcevious way of his, like when he thinks of a beyond brilliant prank, or when he does something bloody insane like hug Sirius. “Mama, you’ve got that powerpoint to prepare for class. I tell you what, how bout Sirius here and I bake the cookies. Chocolate chip, we can get the recipe from that book you found at the flee market last weekend.”

Sirius’s brows hike up, a choked laugh stuck in his Adam’s apple as Vivian giddily agrees and Remus smugly mouths, you get the pink one.

And yeah, maybe this is actually the start of healing or something like tat after all. h

.-

MY OTHER WOLFSTAR WORKS

[tinyhistory]

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

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A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

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Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

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Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

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The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

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Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

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The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

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Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

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Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

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Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

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On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

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Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

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Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

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Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

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Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

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The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

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The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

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Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

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Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

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Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

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Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

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Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

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The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

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When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

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The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

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Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

[fatefulfaerie]

Ivory Lilacs

A happy birthday to @quillandink333 !!! It was such an honor to write a little something that takes place after Scarlet Carnations !! (everyone go read that instead if you haven't read it yet because my HYLIA it’s so good)

My bubbling excitement to tell him the big news lasted right up until a conversation was a click away. I sighed, and let the phone drop lightly back onto the table. My heart bubbled over and little droplets fell with steaming geysers in what was supposed to be a happy moment. I buried my face into my hands.

It was likely the best engineering school in the world, and they wanted me. It was unbelievable, it was incredible and it was…

Well, it was 2,897.3 miles away.

I applied thinking it was a longshot. Out of nearly 3,000 applicants, they take only fifteen. Now, three thousand miles was so, so close. I saw myself there, but everything Link knew was here, his doctors, the psychologist he liked, his favorite donut shop, his friends, his favorite restaurant to take me to, the pier where we let our lips melt into each other for the first time in what felt like ages.

As much as he had recovered from his bout with amnesia, I couldn’t fathom taking away everything familiar just for…

I stood up, leaving the neatly thrice-folded acceptance letter open on the coffee table. I hugged my arms close and paced, and paced, and paced until my gaze shot to my phone, almost buzzing off the table. My heart leapt out of my chest when Link’s name flashed as the caller. I sat back down on the couch, my shoulders tense and my arm braced against my thigh.

“Hey,” I said weakly, immediately regretting it. What if he could sense my hesitation?

“Hi, Zelda?”

He almost yelled into the phone. He was slightly out of breath and there was commotion all around him, a smattering conversation, the roaring engine of a passing car in traffic.

“Y-yeah I’m here,” I assured him.

“Good,” he said. “I’m on my way to your apartment.”

“No!” I accidentally forewarned.

“No?” Link laughed, before asking with a smile, a joking tone. “Are you having an affair?”

“No, I…” I squeezed the phone between my shoulder and my cheek as I messily hid the far-from-subtle university welcome packet under the cushions of the couch. “I’m just doing taxes.”

“Taxes?”

“Mhm.”

“In May?”

“Yeah, I’m…” I hesitated. “Doing them…late…”

The improvised words sounded sour in my mouth. I would never do my taxes late and Link knew it.

“Okay,” he said with a laugh. “Well whatever you are hiding just be sure to destroy the evidence. You know how damning that can be.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, satisfied at how normal the couch cushions looked. “How far are you?”

“I’m walking into your apartment complex as we speak,” Link said. “I hope you haven’t eaten yet. I brought tacos from Louie’s.”

I inwardly cursed his charm. How would I keep this from him? Thanks for the tacos and oh, by the way, we have to break up because I’m going to a ridiculously prestigious engineering program halfway across the globe? Want some hot sauce with that?

And flowers. He brought flowers, flowers that framed his dopey smile and matched the color of the plastic takeout bag, flowers that warmed my heart and made me spout a cold and uncontrollable thank you. I pecked his lips and welcomed him in.

“Hey, whatever happened with those schools,” Link asked after his first taco, lettuce and salsa smeared on his cheek. “Did you get into any? That first one was a fool to not take you.”

“No, I…I haven’t heard back.”

Lie. I had heard back from all of them. The first one, the most local one, rejected me, and so did the second one, which was two hours away. Of course the one that required two planes, three buses, and a ferry ride would be the one that loved me.

Link’s face was warped. It was May. He wasn’t stupid.

“Shouldn’t you call or something?” He asked. I shook my head.

“I’d really rather not discuss this.”

He dropped the subject, the gentleman he was. In fact, he did it so well that I forgot about the ordeal altogether.

At least until I brushed my teeth.

“What’s this?” I heard from the other room. I popped out of the bathroom and when I saw him looking up from the university letter to me with confusion written on his face, I spit my toothpaste onto the carpet without thinking.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“What is this?” He insisted, stepping forward. He knew the answer.

“My…m-my acceptance letter,” I stammered, trying to keep casual about it. I swallowed nothing, though it tasted like mint. “It um…”

I didn’t know where I was going with that, gesturing just to gesture. He looked so betrayed, yet his lips slowly turned upwards. Before I knew it, I was in his embrace.

“I am so proud of you,” I heard him say. “I mean, this is huge.”

“It is,” I agreed. He pulled away and studied me, my hesitation. His hand cupped my cheek.

“So huge that there must be something wrong,” Link reasoned, yet still with a voice that was caring and considerate. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to tell you, I…I was….” I began to explain. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in and out, and summoned the courage to be honest.

“I just think it would be so hard long-distance,” I admitted, “it...it wouldn’t work…”

I gazed into his eyes, which were sad, quiet and listening, but sad.

“...and if you were to come with me,” I continued. My throat let out a whimper, as if it pleaded with me to not expose my worries. “you’ve established too much here. These doctors have been with you since you lost your memory and we went through four psychologists before we found one that was actually good. Your job on the force…their understanding of your past…it’s just not logical for you to leave.”

Link nodded. He couldn’t disagree.

“Link,” I said as he stepped away. “You have no idea how much I wish things would be different.”

“No, it’s fine,” Link reply. “It’s fine...I-I mean you’re right...uhm…”

He patted at where his coat pockets would be, before realizing his coat was on the floor.

“I gotta go,” he said as he picked it up hastily, “I’m gonna talk a walk, think about stuff.” Link was pulling his arms through the sleeves, but I couldn’t help but focus on the small, velvet box that had rolled out onto the floor. I could only stagger back to sit on the foot of the bed, too stunned to say a word, too embarrassed to ask what was in the box, and if it was…

Link made it to the door, placing his hand around the knob and freezing. My breaths felt so damn loud and the tension was palpable. He didn’t move and neither did I. Minutes passed.

“Screw logic,” Link said suddenly before turning around with a furrowed brow, stepping forward. “I want to come with you, I–”

He stopped, having felt a small object be kicked by his toe. I bit my lip in anticipation as I watched his gaze go down. He chuckled nervously.

“That,” he chuckled again. His face was beet red. He looked up at me. “That is.” He cleared his throat. “Funny story actually. You see I was–”

“Doing your taxes?” I interrupted playfully. He laughed, and picked up the velvet box.

He opened it to himself for a moment, and the air between us got serious.

“When I bought this I thought it was beautiful,” he said. He shrugged and looked up to me. “Now it’s so dull compared to you.” His eyes sank in love, pleading, genuine love.

“Please don’t leave me here for the sake of logic,” Link continued. “I love you too much for logic to have any place in my life.”

I smiled.

“That is quite possibly very sweet of you to say,” I said. “But I don’t want you to come with me if you aren’t sure. It will be such a big change.”

Link knelt down, one foot planted on the ground and the other resting against it. He offered me the open box, a silver engagement band with dollops of ivory and diamond-drawn lilacs all clustered together.

“If you are sure that I will make you as happy as you make me,” Link said. “I’ll undergo any change.”

[lottiebagley]

Every lie you ever told- Draco Malfoy

She can't help the grin that sits on her lips as she strolls through the library.

She had entered the room in a foul mood, after a long day and detention with professor Snape she hadn't been in the mood to spend her evening alone working in the library, but her friends had been too busy to accompany her and she really needed to finish the essay she had due in tomorrow.

She would have normally asked Draco. He was the best boyfriend she could ask for. Completely doting on her, anything she ever wanted he was right there with it. He loved her for exactly who she was and she felt the same way. She would do anything for the boy.  They had gotten together almost a year prior, having met at a party in the Malfoy manor. She was the year below him so despite knowing of each other and sharing a common room they had never spoken until then.

She hadn't had a chance to find him to ask him to join her and it was pure luck that he was say with Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. She got on well with his friends and knew they wouldn't mind her joining to do her essay. She also knew afterwards Draco would probably take her hand and pull her into a broom closet, complaining she had distracted him whilst he studied with a smirk on his face.

She approaches the table from behind, having recognised the group of fifth year slytherins from behind and was preparing to wrap her arms around her boyfriend and press a loving kiss to his cheek when she heard it.

"Draco, you have to tell her. It will be so much worse if she finds out from anyone else," Blaise was urging. She could feel it in her gut. They were talking about her.

"That won't happen. I've covered my tracks, she'll never know, it's for her own good," Draco states, his tone cold. She knows she shouldn't be listening but she can't bare to walk away now.

"There's no way Parkinson won't tell her, not now she knows," Blaise pesters. So Pansy was a part of this. That made the girls blood burn.

Pansy Parkinson was a sore spot in the couples relationship. She had consistently been rude and hurtful towards the girl at the beginning of her relationship with Draco. The girl has spoken to her boyfriend about it after he found her crying, assured her that Pansy was nothing to him. He shot down the rumour he has dated the Parkinson witch. They had slept together that night, it was the girls first time and Draco had been perfect. It was when she realised she was in love with her  boyfriend, not that she told him until two months after.

"She will believe me over Parkinson," Draco shrugs

"Weird considering your relationship is built on lies," Blaise laughs. She isn't sure how to react. She can feel tears prickling her eyes as she watches her boyfriend threaten his friend, she has never been anything but honest with Draco . Had he really lied to her?

**

"There you are, I've been missing you," he grins as he drops onto the seat in front of his girlfriend, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaning back in the arm chair. The common room is empty other than them.

"Here I am," she shrugs, not even looking up from the book she's reading. The truth is she's been avoiding him for the past two weeks, not sure how to bring up what she knows. Not sure is she wants to.

"You didn't miss me too," he pouts, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when she shrugs as response. Normally she would giggle and assure him she did, climbing into his lap and whispering to him about her day as he presses kissed to her neck making her blush. Then again normally she wouldn't let days pass without them seeing each other. "Where've you been anyway? You've been MIA for days," he questions

"I've been around. Busy," she shrugs. He can't help the jealous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Who had she been with? He has found her friends to ask where she was multiple times. Scoured the whole castle and been unable to find the girl he adored.

"Why are you being like this?" He questions. They never fight and it felt wrong to use his cold tone with her and yet here he was. She groans, folding the page of her book and placing it down on the side  table next to her armchair.

"Like what?" She questions, he scoffs at that

"You're pulling away, all distant and standoffish," he accuses

"I haven't-"

"Don't insult both our intelligence by denying it," he speaks through gritted teeth.

"Fine. I heard you in the library two weeks ago. Blaise said our relationship was built on lies. What did that mean?" She questions. He looks startled. Like a deer in the headlight. Like a man caught red handed.

"It meant nothing, Zabini is stupid," Draco tests and there's another lie

"Draco tell me the truth,"

"About what?" He questions. She stands up now

"Everything! How much do you lie to me to not know what bit of truth I want?" She demands, pacing now. He groans, throwing his head back

"Fine. I will tell you. But you can't over react," he decides to ignore the scoff she lets out.

"When we first met I was using you," he admits. She could feel her heart breaking. She had always found Draco attractive, and from the moment they spoke she could feel herself falling.

"I had no interest in you. I wanted to make Parkinson jealous so I used you," he continues. "That doesn't change how I feel for you now, I'm so in love with you it's the scariest thing in the world,"

"For how long?"

"Four months," he admits. She feels like her whole world stops.

"Draco, we slept together when we had only been together for three. You slept with me to make Pansy jealous?" She can feel the tears pouring from her eyes. She had been in love and he had been using her. His heart breaks at the sight, breaks at how she flinches away when he moves to comfort her.

"I took it too far, I know I did, I just-"

"Draco I gave you my virginity! You knew that! It meant something to me and you knew that too! I realised I was in love with you that night!" She shouts. His heart breaks. He has fallen for her so hard that Pansy truly never received a second thought anymore but how could he ever make her believe that now.

"Angel, I love you so much, it just took me a bit longer,"

"Everything about us is a lie!"

"No, no, how I feel about you. Everything I've said to you. None of it is a lie!"

"How can I ever believe you?" She questions, it's quiet, he can tell that she wants to believe him but knows how much it would destroy her.

"I don't know," he admits, his heart is broken now "please, just forgive me and put all of this behind us,"

"How can I forgive you? I don't even know what is true anymore,"

"I'll do anything,"

"Write me a list. Write me a list of every lie you ever told me and I'll decide if I can forgive you," she states before turning on her heel and fleeing to her room, sobbing to her best friend.

**

"Leave her alone Draco," the voice is sharp in his ear. Her best friend had been overly protective over this past 48 hours, not letting Draco anywhere near the girl he believed to be the love of his life.

She looks dishevelled as she sits at breakfast, her friends comforting her. Her hair is messy and her eyes have deep and dark bags under them like she hasn't slept. Her face blotchy from crying. He knows he looks equally broken.

"Just give me a minute, please?" He asks her best friend, he's nervous, knows she doesn't deserve this. Knows he will never be worthy of her and never was.

"No,"

"It's fine," the girl croaks looking up to her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend? She's not really sure where they stand anymore.

"Are you okay?" Draco asks as he pushes past her friend to sit next to her on the bench, wanting so badly to touch her, hold her too him but he's too scared to try. Too scared to be shot down.

She shrugs, desperate for him to hold her and makes this all go away but too awkward to ask him too.

"Are you?" She questions

"No. It's my own fault though," he admits "I wrote it. The list I mean," he continues, pulling the envelope from  his pocket. "It's every lie I ever told you. I'm truly sorry," he finishes placing the letter in her hand before standing up and walking away.

**

She doesn't open it until two days later, too scared to see what it says. To have any more precious memories crash and burn around her.

She pulls the envelope open, heart beating out of her chest as she sits on her bed in the empty dorm.

Darling, This is a list of every lie I ever told. Know I regret them all. 1) I never dated Pansy (I did for seven months) 2) that I was originally interested in you (you know that one though) 3) that I wasn't jealous when Zabini kissed your cheek that one time ( I punched him for it) 4) that I hadn't thought of another girl in months when we first slept together (I can't believe I ever stooped so low. I regret it with every fibre of my being. I first realised my feelings for you were becoming genuine that night)

The list goes on, three whole pieces of parchment but by the time she's over the initial bad ones they're almost sweet. That it didn't hurt when she accidentally slapped him. That he hadn't had a nightmare. That he hadn't been utterly distracted by how beautiful she is and accidentally zoned out when she was talking a thousand times. That he wasn't nervous when he met her family for the first time. That he wasn't scared she was going to leave him when she met his.

When she gets to the end she's in tears, every lie he told since the bad ones had been sweet, had been to make her happy. It's then that she realises something, he loved her as much as she loved him he just started a little later.

She knows it'll be hard to work through it but she also knows that for him it's worth it. He lied to her time and time again, but for the most part his lies had been to protect her or to make her happy.

She can't stop her feet moving on their own accord as she jogs down the stairs, pushing through the crowds in the corridor as she approaches the great hall knowing he will be there.

She sees him in the corridor outside the hall, looking as heartbroken as the last time she saw him. Surrounded by his friends. She approaches them and grabs his hand spinning him around.

His eyes widen at the sight of her.

"Draco Malfoy, look me in the eye and tell me honestly. Are you in love with me?" She demands.

"I am. I am completely and utterly in love with you," he admits, slightly confused. She grins before wrapping her arms round his neck and pulling him down, pressing her lips to his in a heated kiss.

He seems shocked but kisses back, pulling her as close as physically possible, taking in everything about her, scared it'll be the last time. They pull apart, panting lightly.

"No more lies," she whispers

"Never again," he grins as she presses her lips to his in a peck. "I don't deserve you," he whispers

"Any boy prepared to go through what you went through to make me happy deserves me Dray,"  she whispers. He shakes his head at this opening his mouth to protest but she's quick to press her lips to his to stop him.

"You wanna get dinner?" She questions

"Of course," he smiles back, arm wrapping around her waist

"And after we can head to your dorm and make up for lost time," she grins and giggles at his smirk

"Oh we will be doing plenty of that," he can't help the grin as he squeezes her tighter to him. How did he ever get so lucky?

**

Masterlist

[cassianwithamessybun]

elucien one-shot

Another Elain and Lucien one shot. I feel like Elain is super depressed. Ummmm so that’s basically what this is. It is from her POV and it is semi sad so yeah. Hopefully I will make another happy one soon. But I feel like their relationship is super depressing. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, it just makes me sad they are not together. anyway I hope you enjoy!

————————————————

Elain spotted Lucien sitting in the foyer basking in the sunlight that was streaming in from the windows.

The light made his red hair sparkle in gold hues, and made his skin seem to glow.

She wanted to keep this picture in a safe, quiet place in her mind.

Why? She didn’t know, but seeing him content— calm made her breath easier.

Which used to infuriate her, but lately she’s been too tired to feel anything at all.

She no longer gave a shit about anything, and that was the only reason she stepped into the foyer.

His head whipped and his eyes locked on her sensing her presence. Though he had likely known she was there long before she stepped into the room.

The mating bond had been what led her here to him anyway.

She said nothing as she strode towards him, her steps eating up the space between them.

She sat down in the chair across from him nearly four feet apart.

Likely the closest they had been since the first day they met.

He looked at her for a moment too long. As if fighting some internal battle on if she was real or not.

Still, she said nothing that would help with his confusion. She only looked at him.

She felt something through the bond: Sadness? Uncertainty? Maybe both?

But she sighed in contentment because she felt something and even sadness and despair was better than nothing.

Lately The only feelings she could get these days were the ones Lucien accidentally sent through the bond.

That was the sole reason she was here.

“Elain?” She watched his mouth move and letters and words came out, but she did not hear what he said.

Words, she thought, were such dangerous creatures. Single syllables could create emotions and break hearts-- 

My heart belongs to you.

I don’t want it. Grayson’s words had cut so deeply into her-- sliced so thoroughly that finally, she was pushed over the edge of despair into emptiness. 

Oblivion.

She was blind to all other feelings.

“Elain?” she heard him this time.

Fidgeting with the Iron band around her finger that now felt like a weight, she lifted her chin and met his gaze with her own.

His eyes, one russet, and one gold met her own brown.

Elain frowned. She had never liked her eyes much. There was no depth in the color brown, but there were stories and emotions written in Lucien’s eyes.

So many emotions laid bare she had to turn away.

“Why is it that you feel so deeply?” her voice strained under the weight of a thousand tears yearning to fall.

He looked at her then, most likely coming to the conclusion that she was just a dream.

“I don’t know,” he paused as if weighing how truthfully he should answer.

But Elain supposed she didn’t deserve the truth anyway. Didn’t deserve anything at all.

“I think it is because I hope too much,” each of his words sent a ripple of agony down the bond.

“What is it like,” she breathed looking down at her hands-- at the iron band, “to hope?”

She no longer Blocked her tears. They streamed down her face dropping on the floor like a rain shower in the middle of April.

She used to love spring.

She felt Lucien’s hand brush her hair away from her face tentatively, and lightly not wanting to spook her. If only he had known how little she cared about her life and well being, that if someone decided to end her… she wouldn’t stop them.

She closed her eyes and marveled in the touch.

“It’s terrifying,” he wiped away one stream of tears, “hope brings on so much pain, and breaks your heart with disappointment.”

He wiped away the tears on her other cheek and she shuttered, still keeping her eyes closed.

Maybe if she didn’t see him, she could pretend that this was all a dream. A mere figment of her imagination.

“Then why,” she sobbed, “why would you ever open your heart to so much pain?”

She opened her eyes to find him on his knees before her.

“Because there is a slight chance that instead of pain you will find the reprieve of happiness, of life, and love. So I leave my heart open Elain, I hope because maybe through the sea of darkness I will find the light.”

She watched tears slide down his perfect face as he rose and rested his forehead against hers.

There. The bond sparked.

A kernel of light in the sea of darkness.

She touched his cheek, wiping away his tears.

She had never seen a male be so vulnerable before.

and until right now, she had never found crying to be a thing of beauty.

She fell out of her chair and to her knees so they were now level and looked up at him.

Looking at him now was like looking at a thousand suns: too bright to remain looking at, but too beautiful to turn away from.

Through all this pain, this darkness… She thought she would be fine.

She assumed time healed every wound, but it didn’t.

So Elain looked at Lucien—her light, and saw all the hope laced in his eyes despite everything he had endured and said quietly, “I don’t even need happiness, just a little less pain,” her lips trembled with a force that tore up her heartstrings.

She was destroying herself from the inside out. 

“Pain is only what you allow it to be,” his thumb ran soothing strokes across her cheek, “but, I find it hard too,  Elain. Sometimes the pain is so unbearable it’s hard to breathe--

“But I want to breathe!” she sobbed, “I want-- I want to breathe Lucien.”

“I know,” he murmured, pulling her to his chest, “I know,” and his voice sounded like it had been coated in honey. So thick with emotion.

So she tugged him closer to her feeling the bond glow even brighter with the action.

She took a breath. Then another.

And another.

Lucien smelt like cinnamon, apples, and the sparks of a fire.

She breathed him in again deeply, grounding herself.

she felt safe and warm-- two very dangerous feelings.

So she quickly pulled out of his grasp and stood up, feeling so cold at the loss of his touch.

And what she felt through the bond then, was the most devastating, and heart-rending thing she had ever felt.

But at least it was a feeling. She wasn’t stupid enough to start something with Lucien.

She had learned her lesson. She would never open her heart again.

Love was just the first step, and pain would always be the end result.

so love was an emotion she wouldn’t allow herself to feel.

Pain, she decided, was less dangerous than love because there was no hope in it.

So she walked away. Feeling every painful pull at the bond, leaving Lucien in the foyer, not stopping as her heart crumpled inside her chest.

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

@shadowhunter2003

[denkamis]

bnha characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! some swearing, but a lot of fluff for the best boys

characters: shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki

notes: dedicated to @nekomanagers / @meilbox ,, for being the most supportive human being in my life and undoubtedly the reason i have been posting so much of my work here on this blog. thank you for dealing with all of my shenanigans on and offline, and for picking me up when i felt like i couldn’t. <33 i love you.

shouto todoroki

flowers & chocolate as gifts

he’s one for the classics

he buys you the most gorgeous flowers, ones that are most definitely your favourites mixed in with an arrangement of others that all have particular meanings to them

he also got you expensive truffle chocolates, and also some cheaper ones that you really like to snack on

he’s so thoughtful, it makes your heart melt

literally so sincere as he gives it to you too, has a whole ass speech prepared

shouto came home after work a bit later than you had expected him to. perhaps he got caught up with some hero work, a report that needed to absolutely be filed today or a villain that just wouldn’t let up. either way, when you heard the front door to your shared apartment open, you came running over to greet him. as you turned the corner to see the front door, there stood shouto with the most breathtaking bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. it was a myriad of colours and petals of all kinds standing out against the white of his suit. since when did he have time to change after work to surprise you like this? his usual aloof expression was replaced by a soft smile, one that was reserved for you and only you, “happy valentine’s day, my love.”

he strolled over to you, initiating a kiss that was slow and passionate. it made your heart melt right on the spot, your face erupting in nothing but pure warmth. “shouto, these are beautiful,” you told him as you took a moment to admire the different flowers that went into assembling the collection in his hands. “these ones mean gratitude, and this one here means love. truth is the white coloured one,” he pointed out, guiding you through the meaning of each individual one that made up your special gift.

he snuck a glance at you, your face radiant with how much you were smiling at his thoughtful present. “i also bought you a few of your favourites,” shouto gestured to the vanity you two kept by the door. you turned to see a very expensive box of truffles and a few hershey's kisses paired with more of your favourite corner store chocolates.

“it wasn’t too much, was it?” shouto asked quietly, watching as your jaw dropped at the sight of the truffles. didn’t you hear a rumour once about how those ones literally had gold integrated into their wrappers?  “no no, it’s wonderful. this is.. you’re so sweet,” you giggled, tapping his chest as a signal for him to lean down so you could kiss him again. no matter how many times shouto gifted you flowers and chocolate on valentine’s day, you got the same butterflies as you did when he first gave you these heartfelt gifts back in high school.

denki kaminari

fancy dinner date at an expensive restaurant

the entire bakusquad was EGGING HIM ON for something good on valentine’s day okay

he’s been talking big game about some kind of secret plan he had in store for the both of you

he bought you an outfit that not only suited your style, but was elegant and absolutely stunning as it complimented your figure

he pulled out all the stops for you

he wanted to be classy, so he reserved a table for two at one of those rooftop restaurants so you two could dine and enjoy each other’s company

“like grown ups” as denki says

you were sat at a candlelit dinner for two near the edge of one of the most highly rated restaurants in your area. denki had really gone all out, wanting to treat you like the resilient and beautiful partner you were to him with a night that would be unforgettable.

and unforgettable it was.

you two were arguably the loudest ones at the restaurant, laughing and overall just having a good time amongst such high class individuals. denki was making faces at you across the table, making you choke back on the red wine you were having. “and then bakugou slapped that dude! it was crazy, y/n, super fucking wild,” he laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. denki sure knew how to talk, filling in conversations with anecdotes and playful conversation topics sprinkled in with compliments for you. he loved you so damn much, he felt like his electricity quirk was on all the time with you from how much you turned his brain to mush.

he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked tonight, with your hair done and your outfit styled to perfection. like, that was all his? and a personality to match? damn! he felt like for once, he was doing something right in his life for you. he wasn’t the dumbass everyone constantly made him out to be. he was trying to be the best for you, and if he could make you happy for the rest of his life, then nothing else mattered to him.

your waiters came back with two platters in hand, with outrageously small portion sizes that could feed maybe a small cat at best. the two of you stared at each other with blank expressions. oh no, this would not be enough to appease your appetites. each of your plates were worth twelve thousand yen, so you really couldn’t get more. on top of that, denki had prepaid everything for tonight anyways. what was worse was that the food tasted like a rat’s ass, yet the two of you dined like kings regardless. well, you pretended to at least. as you were suppressing your disgusted expressions out of kindness to both the waiters and the other guests, denki couldn’t help but stare at you. you were his person, and although the dinner wasn’t exactly all it was cracked up to be, he knew that you dealt with so much more of him than anyone else was willing to. that meant more to him than words could even express.

that, and he immediately bought you apology mcnuggets after you two left. then you two really ate like kings.

eijirou kirishima

long captions to their s/o on instagram

this mfing SAP

he has everything planned, he made like 3 drafts beforehand and even had bakugou proofread it for him

he had all the different pictures he wanted to post too

this is a little unrelated but mans definitely showed up to your house with red roses and a suit

LIKE A GENTLEMAN

your phone buzzed, indicating that  you had received a new notification from instagram. after taking your phone off the table and entering in your passcode, you tapped into the instagram app and saw what had caused the tiny ping.

eijikirishima has tagged you in a post!

the first photo was an oldie, but a goodie. it was of you and eijirou at prom together back when you both graduated from ua. he looked absolutely stunning in the darkened suit he had bought, right beside you in a matching colour scheme. though the picture was in fact a meme in itself, as he posed like that one will smith picture gesturing to you with the goofiest smile. you remembered telling him that he was absolutely banned from wearing crocs that night to the dance. it was a good thing you had saved him from that utter atrocity.

the next picture was a photo of you with the puppy you had adopted together. you had named him bean, to which eijirou had expressed was the manliest name he had ever heard for a tiny pomeranian puppy. you were pressing a kiss to bean’s nose, the angle of the photo showing off your loving nature that he had fallen for.

the last was a picture of you sleeping against him during a long train ride for a mission. it wasn’t the most flattering picture eijirou had of you, but it was certainly one of his favourites. you looked so at peace, cuddling against his side with a tiny line of drool running down your chin. he was smiling in the picture, his eyes solely trained on you with the most wholesome look on his face. he was so utterly in love with you, and this picture couldn’t have showcased that look any more clearly.

the caption read as follows:

Hey bros! It’s Valentine’s Day, which means that it is my duty to post about the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating for about five years now! Y/N, we’ve been through so much together over the years, we’ve had ups and downs and everything else in between but I’ve been fortunate enough to remain standing here as the person you can confide in, much like you are that person to me. You’re my rock. I continue to find so much more to love about you every single day. I hope I get to spend the rest of my days with you, my best friend, my partner throughout everything. I love you so so much, pebble. I hope we get to stay just like this forever, and grow as we go along.

needless to say, many happy tears were shed that day.

tamaki amajiki

love letters in their shoe locker

for all the days leading up to valentine’s, tamaki put a different letter in your locker

mirio hyped him up asf to even get him to write what he was feeling towards you

and he was still nervous as hell and had mirio stand guard so that you didn’t accidentally walk in on him shoving weird notes in your locker

but unfortunately for tamaki, mirio isn’t a very good watchman

and so you caught him in the act, right on valentine’s day ironically

it was the end of a long, rather eventful day at school. you had gotten a few confessions from some other students, to which you turned down due to someone else being on your mind. for the past few days, you had begun collecting small letters in your shoe locker. the notes were short, handwritten with small doodles and even a recipe or two for you to try. it seemed like this person was reaching out to you to express their true feelings, their intimate and romantic feelings, towards you. and you couldn’t help but feel the same towards them, whoever they were. this admirer unveiled small details about themselves to you, yet hadn’t revealed enough for you to piece together a name. so here you were, sprinting down the hallway as soon as the bell went to try and catch a glimpse of this mystery individual who had been leaving you such sweet writings for you to cherish.

you rounded the final corner and there you saw him. before that happened however, you first you ran into your classmate and good friend mirio, who let out a tiny “oof” at the sudden contact. you apologized to him in a rush, explaining in a rushed tone that you needed to go meet someone. he nodded and waved to you before realizing that he had one job and tamaki was definitely going to kill him later.

only slightly out of breath, you saw a mess of indigo hair and shaky hands sliding your latest note into your shoe locker. as he turned to leave, his face drained of colour at the sight of you. he slouched further, retreating into himself. he looked around nervously for an excuse as to what the hell he was doing shoving letters into your locker. though, you beat him to speaking first.

“it’s you.”

tamaki’s throat felt scratchy and swollen, his entire form shaking as you slowly, calmly made your way towards him. “i- i can explain, y/n,” tamaki barely murmured, his nerves beginning to get the best of him yet again. “your words, they were so intimate. you were so well spoken on paper, i just had to meet you in person,” you confessed to him with a patient smile on your face. you stood a relatively safe distance away, not wanting to overwhelm him by your presence. you had just caught him in such a compromising act, after all.

“i read all your letters,” you went on, “every night before bed, i read them, tamaki. i even tried out the udon recipe you gave me and it was the best udon i had ever had. everything you said in your letters, the confessions and the other, more personal stuff… is that all true?”

tamaki, though he felt frozen beneath your warm gaze, had the courage to nod his head. “i didn’t know how else to tell you,” he admitted, hands now covering his face in shame. suddenly, gentle fingers grasped at his shaky ones as you uncovered his face to the light that was you. “i like you too,” you said finally. it felt like a chord had snapped inside of tamaki’s mind and all his feelings came crashing down in a deep crescendo of emotions all for you. it was all that he had ever wanted from you: a response.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

[tamakissimp]

headcanon- secretly rich s/o

request: @rayanicaraynbow​ Hi! This might be a little weird, but could I get headcanons for Todoroki, YaoMomo, Shinsou, and Jiro with a s/o that is the child of a pro hero/someone who's just generally rich, but they have a different last name than their rich parent, so nobody knows their rich. I'm not sure if this is *too* specific or not specific *enough*. If not, that's fine, it was just a random 1 AM thought, and I couldn't find a rules list if there was one. I love your blog btw! :)

a/n: I wrote Shouto’s differently because this boy 100% has a rich people radar. idc it’s true.

TODOROKI:

He'll probably know that you're rich before you tell him. He most likely saw you at a 'rich people' party when he was younger.

He knows how much it sucks to be judge by your parents' name so he'll ignore the topic of your family all together.

Shouto thinks it's cute and sad at the same time how much you try to hide your wealth.

He loves how nonrich you act. Going to thrift shops as dates, always sharing bills, checking price tags, not always getting name-brand stuff.

He loves how normal he feels around you. No pressure to go out to fancy restaurants. You tow can just make a nice homecooked meal.

Absolutely adores the low maintenance dates. You two can go for a walk in the park and call it a date.

You've already gone through your 'allowance' (while you have a couple hundred thousand in your bank account) and still need a sweater. He'll use this as an excuse to gift you his clothing. Seeing you in his shirts makes his heart do summersaults.

"Shouto.". The half-and-half boy turns around at the sound of your voice. His hearts warm up at the sight of you, a big smile plastered on your cheeks while you hold a shirt in front of you. "Look how cute this is! And it's only 300 yen.".

Shouta walks over to you and presses the shirt against you slightly. He tries to imagine how it would look on you. "It's pretty," he says. "But it'll look even prettier on you.". You give his chest a playful swat as you hide your face behind the shirt. "What, it's true.".

"You are a flirt, mister," you say before twirling around and walking to the changing rooms in the thrift shop. Shouta doesn't know what he's feeling. Maybe it's love, maybe it's happiness, maybe it's longing. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he's hooked on how domestic things like going shopping together feel. How normal everything feels. He isn't Shouto Todoroki, son of Endeavor. You aren't Y/n Y/L/n, child of one of the richest family in Japan.

No, you're just Shouta and Y/n. Just a young couple wanting to spend their afternoon together.

MOMO:

She is very rich herself. Even though she should be able to recognize a fellow rich person, she doesn't.

She always pays when you go out to eat, she buys you the most extravagant gifts while yours are just average.

You even got a job, not wanting to solely rely on your parents' money.

Every time she offered to pay for something or gift you something, you had to stifle your laughter. Her intent is kind and sweet but at the same time useless. You could easily buy all the stuff she gifts you yourself.

You like to DIY stuff with her. Upcycling old clothing, tailoring thrift shop clothing, mixing broken items. You make it a bonding experience for both of you.

If she thinks that you're on the poorer side than she'll spoil you to death. Either with basic things like your favourite snacks or with that shirt she's seen you eyeing in the store.

She had no clue about your wealth so when she found out, she was perplexed.

It isn't weird for Aizawa to take attendance, though he forgot to do so most of the times. "Bakugou," he says. Bakugou grunts in response. You and Momo are too caught up in your own hushed conversation to pay attention to what the teacher is saying.

"Tanaka," Aizawa says. Fuck. Your attention is suddenly turned to the teacher. Students look around themself for the said Tanaka. "Oh, sorry. Y/l/n.". You raise your hand and drop it back down the second Aizawa acknowledges your presence.

You turn back to Momo. Her jaw has dropped and she's looking at you with wide eyes. "You're a Tanaka?". You nod at her question. Everyone knew the Tanaka's. They're the richest family in Japan, owning multiple renown hero agency.

"Yeah," you say as you awkwardly scratch at the back of your neck. "But I go by my father's name.". Momo nods. She understands the pressure of being seen as the 'rich kid'. The assumptions people make about you just because of your financial status.

"Don't worry," she says. "You're still Y/n to me.". You smile at her before continuing your conversation. God, how did you get lucky enough to end up with someone like Momo?

SHINSO:

Shinso never cared about how much money you had or how little. All he cared about is that you're with him. That you don't judge him for his quirk.

So he never noticed the few designer pieces of clothing you had mixed between your wardrobe. Or the fact that you always had the newest model phone on the market.

He thought that you were just being kind and wanted to treat him when you offered to pay the bill whenever you went out to eat.

When you were younger, you tried to hide who your mother was more but as you went older and went to the U.A, you started to accept it more.

So, when Shinsou found out you're the child of a pro-hero, saying he's shocked is an understatement.

Guest speakers come every often. At least once a week, the school arrange a pro-hero to come and give the class a pep talk or give them tips. Due to this, you knew that it was only a matter of time before your mother would be standing before your class.

"I'll pick you up at your dorm.". You read over your mother's text a hundred times. Even though you weren't the one who's going to be standing in front of a class full of hyperactive, overly excited students you're still nervous. You tap your foot against the floor as you bit your nails.

"Y/n!". You turn to your left. You see your mother standing in the elevator, waving at your happily before mentioning you to come over. You take quick steps towards her. The moment you're within arms-reach she pulls you in for a hug. "I missed you. Have you gotten taller?".

You swat her hand away as she tries to ruffle through your hair. "A little. And I missed you too.". The elevator doors close and you two start to move downwards. You tell your mother all about your class but your conversation is interrupted when the elevator stops and another person enters.

"Baby?". You look up as you see your boyfriend standing before you. His eyes wander from you to the pro-hero, your mother, standing beside you. He bows slightly to her before standing beside you.

"Is this the boy you've been telling me about?" your mother asks as she nudges your side. Your cheeks heat up as you nod your head. "He's handsome!". You look over at Shinso, who's eyes are wide. He tilts his head as you can almost see the gears in his hand turning.

You smile at him. "Shinso, this is my mom," you say. With that his jaw drops. Sure, he saw how much you two looked alike but he didn't think much of it. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times as he tries to think of what to say.

"You didn't tell him about me?". You shake your head at your mother's question. The elevator doors open against and your mother quickly slips out of the it, leaving you and a barely functioning Shinsou behind.

You lace your fingers through Shinsu's and pull him out of the elevator. "You're.....She's your mom?" he asks. You nod while keeping your eyes fixed on the ground. Will he judge you? Will he be mad that you didn't tell him? "Huh, never would have guessed.". You're taken aback by his cheery tone but your confusion doesn't last long as Shinso drags you along with him to your classroom. Well, that went smoother than you imagined.

JIRO:

Much like Shinsou, she doesn't care about your wealth. She doesn't care about your money. All she cares about is that you love her.

She'll start to grow suspicious when you buy concert tickets and new instruments for her like it's nothing but she won't bring it up.

Jiro will probably try to 'compensate' with your gifts and goes out of her way with cute dates and romantic gestures.

She doesn't say a thing about your wealth until you gift her a new guitar for the third time.

And when she accidentally sees your true last name on a letter your parents send you, she's surprised. You, her Y/n who's she's been with for so long, is filthy rich.

"Surprise," you say as you push the beautifully wrapped box towards her. Jiro quirks up her brow as she carefully rips the patterned paper of the box. She opens it to reveal a new guitar.

She recognizes the model. You've seen her eying it for a week now. Your heart warms up as you see a smile spread across her lips. "Again?" she asks. You nod.

"I couldn't help myself," you explain. "I wanted to hear you play on it.". Jiro just shakes her head with a smile as she continues to unbox the instrument.

You watch her intensively as she places the now fully unwrapped guitar next to her older ones. It stands out. It's shinier than the others. "How do you afford this?" she says. "A guitar is like 60,000 yen.". You just shrug as you pull her towards you.

"Oh, it's...inheritance.". You feel bad for lying straight through your teeth but you don't know who she'll react if she finds out about your family. You plaster on a smile.

"I saw the letter," she says. Your blood runs cold. Maybe she saw a different letter. Yeah, it must have been. "I don't care about your family.". Oh crap. She definitely read the letter.

Your smile falters a bit. Jiro notices and cups your cheeks. "Is something wrong?" she asks. Her voice calms you down a bit. You just shake your head.

"No, I just..." you say. "I just thought you might...act differently when you found out.". She shakes her head and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"God no, you're still my Y/n," Jiro says.

[stiltonbasket]

Hi! For the renouncement au: Can we get pre-confession wangxian accidental baby acquisition? Basically I just want a lot of WWX being conflicted because he doesn’t want to do that to LWJ (per the ficlet in this verse about the marriage bed and not having more babies) and LWJ trying to convince WWX that nothing would make him happier

The child was an accident, Lan Xichen tells him.

Something no one could have predicted, something Wei Ying would never have done, if he knew what would come of it. A mistake, an incomprehensible fluke of magic and curiosity and cultivation, especially when the cultivator in question lost his golden core nearly twenty years ago, but a mistake Lan Wangji wants more desperately than he has ever wanted anything other than Wei Ying, nevertheless.

But this new revelation is something Wei Ying might not want at all, if his husband’s refusal to listen to a blessing for children at their wedding reflects his feelings about having them. And Xiao-Yu is still so small, too small for even the most basic infant classes in the Cloud Recesses, and Lan Wangji has never even held a baby--at least not a baby too young to walk or crawl, not like Lan Yu--what if he drops the child, or hurts it, or--

You must put first things first, Wangji, his uncle told a six-year-old Lan Wangji once, when he gathered up his practice books and scrolls for his lessons and forgot his brushes and inkstone. The brush and inkstone come first, and then you can think about your books.

And to Lan Wangji, Wei Ying will always come first. That will never change as long as he draws breath, which is why he rushes back to the jingshi to find his beloved rather than going to the rabbit field to sort his thoughts out in solitude.

He finds his husband sitting alone in the dark, perched in the middle of the chuang bed with his red inner robes spread out around him like the plumage of a crimson bird, staring into nothingness as he presses a hand to his lower dantian as if uncertain whether he should believe the news Lan Xichen gave them earlier that evening. But Xichen is a healer second only to Wen Qing and Baoshan Sanren, and Lan Wangji has never known him to make a mistake--which means that the two of them will have to face this new uncertainty together, and sooner rather than later.

They have less than half a year to wait before the little one will be here, after all.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji dares to say, after climbing onto the bed beside him and taking Wei Ying’s cold hands in his. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I was going to divorce you,” is what Wei Ying says next, shaking him down to the core as he turns to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes. “I was certain you had forever renounced your chance of love by marrying me, and that I would leave you the moment you found someone you could really be married to.”

Lan Wangji feels his blood run cold. “Wei Ying, no--”

“I was going to,” his husband whispers. “And then you kissed me in Qinghe last autumn, and I--I couldn’t hope you would fall in love after that, Lan Zhan, even if it meant you would never fall in love at all! And I promise I didn’t know this could happen, or else I would never--never have--”

“I told you I loved you,” Lan Wangji says thickly. “I have told you so every day since then, and kissed you every day since then--and is this child not half mine? Does...would it make you unhappy, to have a child with me?”

“No, a thousand times no!” Wei Ying protests, bolting upright. “But Lan Zhan, you’re so good, too good, so of course you convinced yourself you were in love with me after our brothers married us off! You must have thought I deserved someone to love me like that, even though I didn’t, even though the way we were before was enough--and I know you’ll never let me leave you for your sake now, not with this baby coming, and I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan, I’m so sorry! You deserve so much more than this, than me, and now--now I can’t even--”

He covers his face with his hands and bursts into tears.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Lan Zhan,” he sobs. “I didn’t know.”

For his part, Lan Wangji is sitting frozen at Wei Ying’s side, a single sentence echoing back and forth in his mind, and then he understands; because Wei Ying had not understood, even after what passed between them in Qinghe, which means that this misunderstanding can only be Lan Wangji’s fault, as usual.

“Convinced myself I was in love with you? For the sake of our marriage?” he repeats hoarsely. “Wei Ying, I have been in love with you for the past twenty years.”

Wei Wuxian goes quiet and peers out from between his fingers. “Wh-what?”

“I fell in love with you the day you crossed blades with me on the roof, xingan,” Lan Wangji croaks. “I fell in love with you when you argued with Shufu during lessons. I fell in love with you when you drew a portrait of me instead of copying lines, and again when you bowed to Lan Yi with me and vowed to protect the shards of the Yin iron. I fell in love when you saved my life in the Xuanwu’s cave, and when you clung to my hands while Jiang Wanyin and I were carrying you out, and I fell in love every day I spent hunting for you when you were in the Burial Mounds. I fell in love when I saw your eyes open after the battle with Wen Ruohan, and when you drank for me at that banquet at the Jinlintai, and when you carried Wen Qing and Wen Ning away from Qiongqi Dao and took them into Luanzung. I fell in love when you shouted at me in the rain and unveiled my cowardice for what it was, and I fell in love when you refused to stay no matter how I tried to plead with you!

“Wei Ying, I fell in love when I saw you take A-Yuan into your arms for the first time, and when you kept your vow to revive Wei Ying. I fell in love with you every day we spent apart, and again when I wrote that accursed letter to invite you to Jin Ling’s full-moon ceremony. I was in love for every moon I spent in mourning, and for every laugh I heard from Sizhui’s lips, and for every glimpse I had of Jin Ling until you returned. I fell in love when I first heard his courtesy name spoken aloud, and I fell in love again with every lash laid on my back after I protected A-Yuan from the Jins. I fell in love with every year I spent unable to leave my bed, with every bite of food Xiongzhang had to push between my lips because I could not move my arms--I have never known you and not loved you, even when all I knew of you was your face and your voice, Wei Ying, I--”

“I want this child,” Lan Wangji begs--and he is weeping too, now, enfolding Wei Ying in his arms and rocking him back and forth behind the faint shadow of the bed curtains. “I want you like I want air to breathe, sweetheart! I wore nothing but mourning robes when you were dead, and I raised Sizhui as a father who had lost his wife--because that was what I was, even if you never loved me in return! I have never been happier than I was the day I met you again at Dafan Mountain, because you were alive, and well--I love you, Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, as I have never loved anything in all my life, and never will again!”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying cries. “Lan Zhan, I’ve hurt you, I’ve spurned you, and for nothing but the sake of my own pride, so how can you--”

“Never that!” Lan Zhan shakes his head. “You were afraid, and all the world was against you--what right did I have to speak, if it was not to beg for forgiveness and a place on the single-plank bridge at your side?”

“Lan Zhan, don’t do this, not for me, or I’ll…”

“Ask me.”

Wei Ying blinks at him, wiping tears from his swollen cheeks as Lan Wangji pats his nose with a damp handkerchief. “Ask you what?”

“The question I never answered,” he says roughly. “The name of the song I sang to you in Mount Muxi. The song you played after Mo Xuanyu brought you back. Ask me, Wei Ying.”

“What...what is its name, then?”

“Wangxian,” Lan Wangji sobs, tracing the two characters on Wei Ying’s hand until his fingertips go numb. “I was eighteen when I named it, my love. It has always been yours, always.”

And then--

And then--

“Kiss me,” Wei Ying pleads. “Kiss me, please, please--”

Perhaps it was always meant to be this way, in the end. 

Perhaps they were always meant to become one like this, when they were already joined in every way two could hope to be together. Perhaps these words were never meant to be spoken aloud until after their love had taken living form, until after they had married, but they are spoken now. 

And that, in Lan Wangji’s eyes, is all that matters.

[notmrskennedy]

Professor, pt2

A/N - here’s part two to my little prequels - it’s the last one I’ve got written, but just know that they definitely fall in love later in my head. It’s just that the ‘in love’ part turned into Friendliness so there’s that. Thanks for sticking around bc y’all make my days

Summary - A certain professor makes another unexpected appearance and friend? 

W/C - 2.6k 

Warnings - there’s a brief stint of depression and a bit of swearing i’m sure (but what’s new)

----

Nearly 50 hours of no sleep later and Spencer Reid is sure he’s hallucinating. He knows that the hallucinations come later, that it takes more like seven or eight days to get that bad. But he’s tired and hadn’t slept on the plane and there’s no amount of coffee that’ll convince him he’s awake enough to think the scene in front of him is real. 

Because there you are, arguing with an FBI agent. While in handcuffs. He notes the darker hair and the new style and the impossible amount of dirt you’re covered in. What a weird thing to hallucinate after a bone chilling case. He hasn’t seen you in three years—by all accounts, he should’ve forgotten your face already. 

“I heard she got caught shipping body parts,” Emily says, appearing next to Spencer. She’s more put together, having passed out for the four hour flight. Her hair’s tied up and she’s got airplane coffee in her hands. He wonders if this is any more real before he hears you shouting from him. 

“Thank God,” you call, trying to wiggle out of the man’s hold, “Dr. Reid! Tell them I’m not crazy.”

He hesitantly leans over to Emily. “This is real, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’m not going to sleep tonight, am I?”

“Nope.”

“See you on Monday, Emily.”

“See you then, Reid.”

And he’s trudging forward, waving at the other agent while stifling a yawn. He forces his eyes open and checks his watch. 2:37 AM. Is he going to catch the Metro? Or is he sleeping on Hotch’s couch again? 

The pleading in your eyes says Hotch’s couch and he doesn’t argue.

“Hey, Kazinsky,” he yawns, stopping a full two feet from you and your inhumanly large captor. “What’s the—what’s the charge?”

Kazinsky shakes his head, not daring to let you any slack. You’re bouncing on your toes, trying to contain yourself. He gets it. It’s not everyday you get arrested. He hopes. But ever forgetful of the whole being arrested bit, you keep jerking to move the hair out of your face. Kazinsky takes it as trying to escape and jerks back harder. 

“We picked this one up for transporting illegal…stuff, Doc,” Kazinsky mutters with half a shiver. “Thought I signed up for white collar, mail fraud type stuff. Not unpacking human remains type stuff.” 

Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose. Scrubs his hands over his face. Takes one more long look at you, obviously losing your mind. He knows a lot can change over three years, but you never seemed the ‘illegally transporting dead people’ type. Until he remembers your fun fact from that lecture all those years ago. 

“What happened?” he sighs.

All too tired for this bullshit, he wishes he could force the story out faster, but your face just keeps contorting with the story you’re so obviously trying to spin for both of them. You try to pull out of Kazinsky’s gorilla grip again, and Spencer notices the way Kazinsky winces every time you pull. Something wrong with his wrist?

“Dr. Reid,” you finally begin, “I was in Guatemala, studying these mummies we found in a cave. One of the bodies just needed further examining and so I was just shipping it back because it’s not like I can stuff a two thousand year old body in my carryon.”

All Spencer can do is raise half an exhausted eyebrow that prompts you further, red tinting your cheeks. 

“Look, I’ve been trying to tell Mr. Man Hands over here that I’ve got the paperwork in my bag, but after our little disagreement, I’ve been arrested.”

“Disagreement?” Kazinsky snorts. “You tried to dislocate my wrist!”

“Well, I can’t help it if you don’t announce yourself before grabbing me.”

Whatever desperation and pleading you’ve had, you’ve thrown out the window to stare down Kazinsky. Spencer has a new appreciation for the fact that he’d been wrong all those years ago. You aren’t fragile. You’re as strong as a femur bone with all of the—probably justified—anger of a bull towards a matador. 

But you turn back to Spencer and your gaze softens. Melts into the young professor he met all those years ago. He’s gotten over his crush—he’s definitely in love with Maeve—but you’re objectively beautiful. Despite the self-cut, terribly choppy bangs, or the light dusting of brown dirt that you’ve covered in. You’re pleading for his help, he knows it, but he just wants to go home. 

He’s reminded he’s better than walking away and ends up giving Kazinsky a tired sigh. “I’ll take her off your hands for you, Kazinsky.”

He wonders vaguely what Maeve will think of this when he calls her in 24 hours. He wonders if she’ll appreciate the gesture he’s made for an old acquaintance. No matter what though, he knows she’ll gasp and giggle and say something like ‘oh those anthropologists! Such a funny sort. At least it’s a better science than geology!’ and they’ll laugh together like old lovers. 

Kazinsky drops you in Spencer’s lap and runs. Human remains could be the BAU’s problem for all he cared. He liked mail fraud. 

Once Kazinsky’s out of sight, Spencer pulls the handcuff keys from his pockets and pulls the cuffs off of you. You breathe out a thankful sigh, trying to rub the future bruises away. You turn back to face him, tucking your hair back behind your ear, studying him through your lashes. He can’t be bothered to notice anything much more about you. He’s dead on his feet. 

The hand you place on his elbow jolts him away. Your eyebrows scrunch and he swallows at the concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’m just—we’ve been working an abduction case. 48 hours non-stop—“

He yawns again and you can’t help but mirror. “Did you know that chimpanzees and dogs are also empathetic yawners?” 

He smirks. “I did know that. Seriously though y/n, what’s up with the body?”

“I promise it isn’t illegal,” you rush out, just to receive a raised eyebrow. “The Institute I’m working for made some kind of deal with the Guatemalan government that I’m not really privy to, but I’m the only one qualified to handle the remains. Plus, I’ve got a reputation for being found with body parts so its—it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He sighs again. He wants to tell you it sounds worse. That it sounds like you’re stealing on behalf of the Institute. That they’re doing what museums always do—pilfer and loot. But you sigh and hang your head and don’t exhibit one sign that you’re trying to trick him. Sure, you might’ve lied a bit about manhandling Kazinsky, but you sure as hell seem like a doctor just trying to do her job. 

“Look, call my boss. He’s waiting for me anyway. I’m sure the paperwork just got lost or customs is just as stupid as I think they are.”

Spencer nods. He pulls his phone out and punches in the number you rattle off. In ten seconds he’s speaking with Dr. Russel Bailey, head of the anthropology department at the Institute. There’s a quick relay of ‘yes, she’s authorised to have the body’ and ‘no, please don’t arrest her’ and ‘we’ll sort this out in the morning’. 

And once he’s hung up, you’ve already got your car keys out. “Do you need a ride home or anything?” you ask and quickly tack on, “I’m just trying to say thank you. Promise I’m not creepy.”

Spencer laughs and nods and drags his feet after you. He does need a ride home because he knows he’ll fall asleep on the metro. You talk incessantly about your trip to Guatemala on the walk down to your car, and he knows he should be listening. But he can’t. He’s too busy moving one foot in front of the other. 

And by the time you’ve punched his address into the GPS, he’s fast asleep, softly snoring. 

#

Maeve was dead. Maeve was dead. Maeve was dead. 

Nothing else really matters now, Spencer thinks on repeat. She was the only good thing I had and now she’s gone. Maybe I don’t even matter. 

There’s brief moments between this line of thinking where he can listen to the three dozen voicemails he gets left everyday. Telling him that they’re there for him. Telling him it’ll be okay. Telling him it was okay to grieve. 

Was it grieving if he just wants to melt into nothingness? To die without actually killing himself?

It’s during one of these brief moments that he gets the voicemail he’s accidentally been craving. He doesn’t want to want it. He doesn’t want to want anything. He wants to melt and starve and wither until no one thinks about him ever again. Because she’s not here and he can’t for the life of him figure out why he wants you. 

You’ve been gone. Researching your way through the Sacred Valley in Peru, making nice with the locals and scavenging bones like an angelic vulture. You’ve been there for the last month and can’t possibly know about Maeve’s death—it takes him another hour to get back to thinking about you. It’s still September, he thinks, and you’re supposed to come back around now. At the end of the month, he’s supposed to pick you up from the airport. 

Because after saving you from an arrest, you’ve been exchanging noncommittal letters and phone calls. He’s got a thin stack of photos that you’ve sent from your trip. But you aren’t Maeve. You never were. You never will be. 

He doesn’t know why he wants you to call him, but he does. 

Maybe it’s because you’re new, you aren’t tarnished by the history of Spencer Reid. Maybe it’s because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat him like he’s labelled: fragile, handle with care!

He listens and your voicemail is a sort of sing song. “Hola Spencer! I’m calling from some Peruvian payphone. I should be in the states in a little over 24 hours. I’ll call when I land. Hasta mañana.” 

 The next voicemail comes with: “Finally got back to the apartment. I didn’t think I’d miss the sound of guinea pigs running around. Weird. Anyway, call me when you can.”

And the third: “Spencer, seriously, why aren’t you picking up? I’m not going to have to break in, am I? Call me back.”

Culminating with: “Reid, I swear to fucking god. If I find you dead in that goddamn apartment, I’ll beat your body so bad you won’t make it the fucking afterlife.”

There’s a knock. One he won’t answer. One he doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want the pity or the advice or the dejectedness. He wants to float down a river and drown. 

The knock becomes a little more insistent. And now there’s voices attached. He can make out JJ’s voice, “He’s—he’s going to be okay. He’ll come back out when he’s ready.” Following is who he thinks is Penelope, though if it is, she’s far too quiet. One set of feet retreat. He can see the shadow from a pair of shoes and he wonders why Penelope is staying so long. Maybe she’s brought another basket. 

There’s one more knock—probably to ensure he’s not coming to the door—before a jiggle to the knob. And swearing. And jostling. And squirming. And pop. There’s a distinct swinging open of the door and a pair of boots tapping over his hardwood. 

Maybe this is how he dies. Miserable. Covered in snot and tears. Slippers half on. Depressed on the couch. 

“God, you idiot,” a voice breathes, pausing to take in the disarray. He vaguely remembers redecorating—throwing everything everywhere. The feet become more impatient and frantic and heavier. His doors all open and close and he can’t bother to correct the burglar. He’s right here, waiting, patiently waiting, for this intruder to kill him. 

A fantastic way to die. He wonders if you’ll want to look at his bones. You’ve mentioned wanting to. 

“Sound off, Reid,” you command. He knows its you. No one else could replicate that tremble in your lips, the break rolling off your tongue. 

“Y/n,” he croaks and he wonders how long ago was the last time he spoke. 

Light streams in as you flick open the curtains, bites into his skin with a hiss. You take in his disheveled state with no apprehension. Like you’ve expected this. Like you have no pity to give him. Maybe this is why he wanted you to call. 

“You broke in,” he mumbles and you shake your head. 

“I wouldn’t have to,” you begin to yell, just to lower your voice and grit your teeth, “if you would’ve fucking answered the door.” 

You always say there’s a time and place for everything. There’s nothing to top the word ‘fuck’ and he knows that you’re beyond angry. Beyond concerned. Beyond terrified for him. 

“What happened, Spencer?” you whisper, moving to sit down on the floor in front of him. You’re close enough he can smell your perfume, see the pleading look in your eyes. There’s no pity. If he could find the words, he couldn’t thank you enough. 

He could reach out and hold your hand, but that seems too far. Too much. So he swallows down the tears and whispers back, “Maeve died, y/n. She died because I let her.”

“Stop it,” you order. You’ve got a hard set in your eyes, the kind that he last saw when you stared down Kazinsky. “Stop that right now. You can’t stop the world from spinning, Spencer. You can’t stop the sun from coming up. You can’t stop what you don’t know to. I might not know all the details, but I know you. You’re a diligent man and I wouldn’t expect you to do anything less than everything for the woman you love.”

You place a delicate hand on the couch next to his and you sum everything up very gracefully. “Hindsight is a bitch, don’t let it make you hers.”

He can’t stop the twitch of a smile. Can’t stop the crack of happiness that bleeds out because you’ve decided to be so ridiculously you. No one’s ever called him diligent before and seems more fitting than fragile.

“She’s still dead,” he settles on and makes the bold move to slide his fingers under yours. It feels like such a betrayal to Maeve—is he supposed to touch another woman when he couldn’t even touch the love of his life?

You just squeeze his fingers, warm and present and decidedly alive. “Yeah. She is. You’re welcome to wallow for as long as you want, but you need to eat. We’ll see if I can remember how to cook with modern appliances.”

Your smile is contagious enough that a fleeting smile reaches his eyes. You pat his hand and stand. “I’m going to the store, and taking a key this time. I promise I’ll be back. I’m stickier than a public indecency charge.”

You chuckle for the both of them and carefully make your way out of the apartment. He listens as you take a key and tries his best to psych himself into a fit of hunger. It isn’t until you’re singing in Spanish, something sizzling on the stove, that he realises that the pain in his gut is the hunger, and not just misery. That he should probably get up for at least a minute. Just to satisfy the curiosity of what that smell is. 

Maeve would’ve liked you, he decides. Maeve would’ve really liked you. 

And it’s the first peaceful thought he’s had in weeks.