#being at home it's just so empty & quiet & there's just so many reminders of her

[butmakeitgayblog]

I need a one shot of the first time Clarke is alone with Sal. Do they just stare at each other? Play? Does Lexa come home to find them passed out cuddle up with empty plates lol

A summary will have to suffice because I have,,, way to many wips 😂

But it would be an experience.

Truthfully it'd be Clarke being a bit nervous but also jazzed but also very like "Lexa. He is... a dog. I'm not sure if you remember, but I raised an entire child. A human being. I think I got this. You can go, we'll be ok."

So Lexa would go. Affectionately bumping heads with the moose once in a reminder to behave himself, and kissing her girl twice on the lips in 'thank you' for holding down the fort while she runs into school for a last minute department meeting. Reminders that he won't need to eat until she's home getting tossed over her shoulder while she snatches up her keys, along with running through a checklist of toy locations, treat options, and walk times that Clarke already damn well knows.

Her last lingering kiss would be met with an eye roll and a slap on the ass to actually get herself out the door.

Sal's heavy sigh in her immediate absence would be followed by a pathetically needy sounding whine, which has Clarke just looking down into his big droopy eyes and nodding.

Cuz she gets it.

"I know, bud... 'Cept I usually make that sound when she walks into a room."

It's not surprising that her comedy is lost on the audience.

Other than that, it would be fine. Sal would know Clarke well by then, and while she is not mom, she is still very much friend shaped. So it's all good by him.

The half empty pack of hot dogs bought not-at-all as a doggie bribing tactic that Clarke keeps hidden in the back of Lexa's lunch meat drawer helps with those feelings as well.

So they'd waste the few hours going back and forth between playing catch and wiggly butting running in the back garden and watching bits and pieces of trashy television. Just a chill time between doggie and dogsitter.

Of course when Lexa comes home to a completely silent house, her first thought is,,, what the fuck happened? Because Sal always meets her at the door. Every day. Without fail. Even when she picks him up from the neighbors.

Except that day, he is nowhere to be seen.

But she keeps her cool because she trusts Clarke and there's no way something catastrophic happened in 3 hours. If there had been, Clarke absolutely would've called her. She knows this.

Which is why she's genuinely only curious as she wanders through the eerily silent house in search of her two favorite faces. Living room, empty. Hallways deserted. Kitchen, quiet as a mouse.

It's only when she loops back around from checking the backyard with the full intention of heading back out front to see if maybe they'd gone on a late afternoon walk, that she notices the display in her bedroom.

Specifically, a crashed out saint bernard taking up 3/4ths if her bed with a snoozing blonde squeezed cuddled in right behind him.

As in, if Clarke tried to roll over onto her back she'd 100% end up on the floor.

And just... What is Lexa even supposed to do with that. How is she supposed to handle that sight? How can she resist when her quiet call of, "Sal. Are you making moves on my girl, young man?" only earns her a lifted furry head and a snort of dismissal before it flops back down on her pillow.

The answer is obviously to toe her shoes off and hang her blazer on the handle, just to ease herself onto the roughly postage stamp sized bit of bed left available. The answer is obviously to gently brush the chaos of hair back from Clarke's face and press whisper soft kisses to her shoulder. To her neck. To the perfectly shaped shell of her ear, before nuzzling into the sleep warmed mess of blonde and drifting off as well.

[jamescarstairs]

you know there's something wrong with me when i'm grateful work is getting me out of the house 😭

[verstappensrealwife]

Casual (Part 1 of 2) - Lando Norris x Reader

smut, angst

approx. 1,600 words

warnings: lando=ENEMY #1, brief MV1 x reader right at the end, smut(oral fem!recieve), fwb except they’re barely friends…

lando norris masterlist - here. max verstappen masterlist - here. f1 master list - here.

PART 2 HERE

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch I thought you thought of me better Someone you couldn't lose You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

Your friends had warned you about him, their voices laced with concern and frustration. They saw what you couldn't—or perhaps refused to see. What did they know? Clearly more than you…

You always went back to Lando Norris. Each time, you convinced yourself that this time would be different. That he'd finally see you the way you saw him. But every encounter ended the same: the dreaded "We're not together… it's only casual," followed by a kiss so passionate it blurred the lines between love and pain.

It made you furious, the way he toyed with your heart, dangling hope just out of reach. Yet, against your better judgment, you returned to him, surrendering to the illusion of affection. Each kiss, each touch, was a cruel reminder of what could never be. The cycle was a slow burn, eroding your self-worth with every fleeting moment of his attention.

In the quiet of your room, the weight of his words crushed you, leaving behind an ache that no kiss could ever heal. And still, you’d find yourself going back, lost in the hope that one day, maybe, he’d change his mind. But deep down, a part of you knew: some things, some people, never change.

You said, "Baby, no attachment" But we're Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out Is it casual now? Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends It's casual, if it's casual now Then baby, get me off again If it's casual, it's casual now

You’d met his parents, shared laughter around their dinner table, and walked through the rooms of their family home. Those moments had felt like glimpses into a future you yearned for, yet he never craved you in the way you did for him. The warmth of their acceptance was a cruel contrast to the cold reality of his indifference.

Now, in the cramped footwell of your car, parked in a dingy, deserted lot, he was devouring you with a fervor that belied his emotional detachment. His tongue flickered and vibrated against your clit, his moans echoing in the confined space. The raw pleasure was a stark contrast to the sterile, unfeeling nature of your relationship.

“Fuck, fuck! Lando, you're so good at this—” you gasped, your body arching in response to his skillful movements. “I’m all yours,” you breathed, the words slipping out as a desperate plea for a connection that went beyond the physical.

After you’d finished, the euphoria fading, he climbed out of the compressed space on your car floor. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken truths. He didn't say much, just the bare minimum, as if to avoid breaking the fragile illusion you clung to.

“I’ll get an Uber,” he mumbled, his phone already in hand, the app open. It stung—he hadn’t even planned to stay.

You hummed quietly, a sound barely louder than a sigh, and he hopped out of the car, giving you a tight-lipped smile that felt more like an apology than a goodbye. The door shut with a finality that echoed in the silence. You huffed gently, the weight of disappointment pressing on your chest, and turned the keys, the engine roaring to life as you drove away, the emptiness in the passenger seat a stark reminder of his absence.

Dumb love, I love being stupid Dream of us in a year Maybe we'd have an apartment And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier

You often found yourself lost in thoughts of a different future, imagining a day where he loved you openly, where you weren't a secret kept from the public eye. In these dreams, he didn't rush you out of his apartment after a night spent together; instead, he held you close in the morning light, his embrace lingering with a sense of permanence.

You envisioned a future where you might move in together, sharing a space that was yours as much as his. In your mind's eye, you saw him introducing you to his friends proudly, not as an awkward afterthought. You imagined gatherings where you were welcomed, not just tolerated because you'd been accidentally caught post-intimacy in his driver’s room.

The reality, though, was a stark contrast. Max and Carlos had stumbled upon you once, the awkwardness palpable, and since then, any potential friendships had withered before they could begin. You never really met Max or Carlos after that, except for those few, brief encounters in stores, where you'd exchange polite smiles and hurried conversations, pretending the memories didn’t hang heavy in the air.

I know what you tell your friends It's casual, if it's casual now

After that incident, Lando had—of course—kicked you straight out of the room, leaving you to wander the paddock alone. The sense of isolation was crushing, each step echoing the emptiness you felt inside. As you scurried away, you couldn’t help but overhear his conversation with Max and Carlos. Their voices carried through the air, each word a dagger to your already wounded heart.

You caught a glimpse of their faces as you slipped past them, their expressions a mix of pity and discomfort. The look in their eyes only deepened your humiliation.

“It’s just casual,” Lando's voice was dismissive, almost careless. “I don’t like her like that… she’s just a good time, I guess.”

The words hung in the air, each one a brutal confirmation of your worst fears. You felt a sting of tears welling up but forced them back, swallowing the lump in your throat. The pain of his indifference was almost unbearable, a stark reminder of the chasm between your feelings and his.

It's hard being casual When my favorite bra lives in your dresser It's hard being casual When I'm on the phone talking down your sister

He’d insisted you leave clothes at his house, especially your underwear—the ones he liked on you. Sometimes, he would insist you put them on for him when you were at his place. In those moments, it made you feel special, as if leaving a part of yourself behind in his space meant something significant. Maybe it meant nothing...

You grew close with his sisters, exchanging likes on social media posts and sending each other TikToks you thought the other would enjoy. It was a small but cherished connection that made you feel more integrated into his life.

One evening, during a video call with his sister, she hesitated before asking, "Are you and Lando official?" Her eyes held a softness, a knowing look that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken truths.

Before you could respond, Lando snatched the phone from his sister’s hand, abruptly ending the call. Her expression lingered in your mind—an empathetic sadness that hinted at her understanding of your unreciprocated feelings. You sat in your apartment, staring at the blank homescreen, the silence around you suddenly overwhelming. The quiet was filled with the echoes of all the things left unsaid, the unacknowledged reality of your relationship with Lando.

And I try to be the chill girl that Holds her tongue and gives you space I try to be the chill girl but Honestly, I'm not I know what you tell your friends Baby, get me off again

That night, Lando messaged you, saying he needed space. The words stung, but you left him on read. Minutes later, another text came through, asking if you got his last message. All you replied with was, "Yes."

A few days passed in a haze of silence and self-doubt. Then, his name popped up on your phone again, asking to take you out. The pattern was all too familiar. You knew how it would end: not with a romantic evening, but with you in his apartment, the same empty routine of physical intimacy followed by a lonely departure at dawn.

Despite everything, you would’ve said yes again and again, caught in the cycle of hope and heartache. But this time, as you were about to respond, a new notification appeared at the top of the screen.

“Maxverstappen1 has requested to follow you.” “Maxverstappen1 has requested to message you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Max, with his quiet confidence and genuine smiles, was a stark contrast to Lando’s fleeting attentions. You thought back to the brief conversations in stores, the way Max's eyes seemed to hold a depth of understanding, a kindness that Lando never showed. He had always treated you with respect, even in those short interactions, and now he was reaching out.

Curiosity and a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time—hope—bubbled up inside you. You hesitated for only a moment before accepting his follow request and opening his message.

“Hey, I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime?”

The simplicity and sincerity of his message were refreshing. Max wasn’t playing games; he wasn’t hiding you or keeping you at arm’s length. As you read his words, you realized how much you craved that kind of straightforward, genuine connection.

In that moment, you knew you’d rather be with someone like Max—someone who saw you as more than just a fleeting distraction. You typed out a response, feeling a sense of anticipation and relief wash over you.

“Hi Max, I’d love to. When are you free?”

--

did you love it did you love it did you love it should i make a part 2 for max did you love it hello???

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 3:

Shutting the door to your house, you slide down to the floor, back against the door. Your hands come up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, heart racing.

Looking around the room, you felt suffocated. Every inch of the wall had some reminder of your husband, paintings, photographs, newspaper clippings of every accomplishment and accolade of his. It made you want to tear your hair out.

A silent scream leaves your throat as tears run down your face. Silent crying was something you've mastered after all these years..

But never have you cried and broken down like this, with something giving you a glimmer of hope. That something was Alastor, he made you feel appreciated, you felt free when you were with him, like all your worries were washed away and you were helplessly in love.

With the realization that you were in love, your hands fell to the ground with a quiet thud. For too long had you suffered the control, the physical and mental abuse at the hands of your husband and your family that only saw you as a pawn- a means to an end for them.

The tears dried up as you sat there silently for hours till the sun rose, feeling like an empty husk of a human. It took you a long time before you could collect yourself.

Though you felt so weak, you had to go out and do some errands. Having to keep up the image of perfect housewife, after all.

With a vacant and empty look in your eyes, you left the house, barely presentable.

You didn't even know what you were going out for, but you'd find something, anything.

During your walk around town, looking for something to buy so you wouldn't go home empty-handed, an odd feeling and urge came over you to take a route home that you've never taken before.

The way you took this time was full of twists and turns, leading to many shady backstreets and alleyways.

One sign reading "Arabella's Apothecary" caught your eye, prompting you to enter.

The door opens with a chime, the shopkeeper giving you a smug smile, "Welcome in dear, how can I help ya this fine morn'?" You nervously tell her that you were just looking around.

The shopkeeper, who you found out was indeed Arabella, like the sign outside indicated, "You know, people don't just come in here for nothin'... Hun, I think we both know you're looking for a key to freedom."

Arabella's words shook you to your core, "A... key? T-to freedom?" You laugh nervously, wondering if this woman was a witch. But then it came to you, maybe you did need... something.

She laughed at your face, "Bwahaha, I can read you like an open book! I'm no witch, I just deal in... specialty medicines, you might say."

After a short conversation with Arabella, you find yourself in possession of some arsenic. This little powder was your freedom, and you thank your lucky stars that fate guided to this back alley hidden apothecary shop.

During the week of your husband's absence, you didn't visit Mimzy's bar at all, actually. You were planning your husband's demise. You had to be methodical, careful, every single minute detail needed to have a plan and a backup plan- including your escape and how you would remove yourself from suspicion of being involved in your husband's death.

When your husband opened the door, announcing his return, you felt a pit form in your stomach. The bile rose in the back of your throat at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.

According to your plan, your husband would be dead in the next couple of weeks. It would be hell to not visit Mimzy's bar in hopes of seeing Alastor again, but if everything went according to plan, you'd be free of your shackles. So two weeks, give or take a few days, was nothing compared to the near decade of pain you've had to endure.

There were a few close calls during this time, but your husband was just diagnosed with food poisoning each time until he was found dead at his desk at the office he worked at.

You had slowly poisoned him slowly and consistently enough to evade suspicion. You knew this much when the police came knocking on your door informing you that your husband was found dead. The gates holding back the flood were unlocked, and you crumpled to the floor crying. The police tried to console you, but little did they know that you secretly crying from being overjoyed at the news.

At the funeral, your family and in-laws looked at you with distaste and all they did was tell you to get out of their faces, telling you what a disappointment you were for failing as a wife to keep your husband happy and healthy.

That was all you needed to hear. You turned away from them and left town, not bothering to stop by your home. You left only with the clothes on your body, making your way to Mimzy's bar. If anyone was able to help you, it would be Mimzy, your only true friend in the world.

You get to Mimzy's bar a bit too early, sometime in the evening, as usually the bar only opens late at night. So Mimzy was prepared to ward off any suspicious people that could get the bar/speakeasy in trouble, but she rushed up to you immediately, fawning over you, seeing you in all-black funeral attire with puffy eyes, " (Y/N)! Darlin'!! What happened to you??"

Mimzy ushers you into her office, gives you a warm cup of tea and a blanket as she barrages you with more questions. You smile weakly at her and make her promise not to tell a soul, and she pinky promised that she would take your secrets to the grave. And she kindly offered for you to stay with her as long as you needed.

You took Mimzy up on her offer, but you offered to help out at the bar for as long as you did. It was the only way you would accept her generosity.

-> Part 4

[dilfl0v3rss]

what about ony who's quiet and shy in person dating and extroverted reader but in the bedroom he's nasty and dominant ?

i love love LOVEEEEEEEE THISSSSSSS😩

the two of you were often compared to the sun and the moon. you, being the more outgoing and giggly type. always laughing and making people smile. while ony preferred to stay to himself, always shying away from human interaction. people honestly don’t even think he’d leave the house if it weren’t for you.

you were basically his voice sometimes. whether it be sending his food back when it’s done wrong at a restaurant or letting people know when he’s tired and wants to go home from a party, you were the one to do it. people often get the idea that your control in public was the same at home, but they were completely wrong.

you tried to convince your friends on many occasions that ony was a completely different person at home, but you’re often met with “yea right” and “sure girl. whatever you say”. the two of you were at erens house hanging out. you were seated on his lap as you talking with your group of friends while playing uno.

“nigga you can’t put a draw two on a draw four!!” you yelled at connie as he looked up at you in confusion. “girl since when?” the room lit up with laughter at his mistake as you pulled two cards from the deck and threw them towards him. “that’s two for your mistake too. since you tryna cheat.” you felt a pinch on your thigh, causing you you quiet down instantly.

“m’ready to go.” ony’s breath fanned onto the crook of your neck. you smiled to yourself as you continued playing the game. “uno bitchessss!!!” sasha yelled as she held her one card in the air, basically letting everyone see her card. luckily for her it was a draw four so everyone decided to just end the game right there. “a win is a win right mami?”

connie’s arm went to wrap around hers but she swiftly stood up from her seat on the couch. “no. im the only winnerrrr.” you opened your mouth to speak, but another pinch to your side reminded you of what needed to be done. you stood up from ony’s lap, looking down at him texting on his phone. “you ready to go?”

“awww don’t drag him away from us nowww. he was having fun. right o?” eren faked a pout, pushing out his bottom lip. “oh hush. if y/n says it’s time to go then ony’s gonna go. she’s the boss.” mikasa high fived sasha as eren and connie gasped, holding their hands on their chests while feigning surprise.

“oh you running shit like that y/n?” “right ian know you had it like that.” you giggled as ony stood up behind you. from the looks of it they were right. you were about to walk out of the house empty handed while your boyfriend held your bag and jacket.

you popped your tongue, holding your weight on one leg as your hands raised to your hips. “y’all know i run shit over here. got him holding my stuff and everything. he know wassup.” your friends laughed as you stood with confidence in front of them. eventually laughing along with them as you walked out of the door. little did they know, ony was a completely different man at home.

“aahhggg it’s t-too d-deep daddy” you were bent over the kitchen island, nails scratching at the table as you tried to crawl away from ony’s brutal pounding. “shut the fuck up. thought you ran shit. seems like you only running from shit” he chuckled as pulled your head back by your hair to deepen your arch. his hips jackhammered into your ass while you choked on some of your moans.

when you first got home you went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, bending over to reach in the back of the fridge. ony walked up right behind you, pressing his print on your ass causing you to instantly stand up. “wha-” “sh sh sh. bend over the counter for me princess.” a shiver ran down your spine as you turned your body around and bent over. giving your boyfriend a full view of you panties under your miniskirt.

now you were here. hair tangled around his hand as his other hand was wrapped around your throat. “open up mama.” he whispered while pulling your head back further. you outstretched your tongue from your mouth, brown eyes locking with each other before you felt his warm saliva trickle down towards your throat. before you could swallow, his mouth met yours in a wet kiss. tongues soaking each other in his spit as your moans flowed from your mouth to his.

ony was very different when if came to fucking you. always letting his more dominant side show when it was time to pleasure his woman. “that’s is mama. keep takin this dick.” his hand moved from your throat to your stomach, pushing you back harder onto his dick so you can feel him deeper. “mmfuckkkk. i l-love you!” you screamed as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching. the urge to pee clouding your brain as you tried to push yourself off of him so you didn’t make a mess.

“unt uhh, where you goin? let me have it.” his thick fingers laid on your clit, rubbing in circles at a quick pace as you squirted all over his dick and the floor. your legs grew weak, giving out from under you as you slumped onto the counter, but before you could doze off to sleep, you felt ony’s rough palm lightly tapping your cheek. “stay with me pretty girl.” he helped you regain consciousness before lifting you back up to his chest. “you good?” worry filling his voice as he rubbed your stomach. “y-yea.”

before you knew it he was fucking his dick back into you. eyes widening and body twitching as he stroked inside your overstimulated pussy. “good because daddy didn’t cum yet and i got a lot t’give you. and princess….” you looked up at his face which was already turned towards you. gold grills shining in the dim moonlight as he smirked down at you. “i love you too.”

[stcknpoke]

Kiss Me Silly

content Arthur Morgan x reader, established relationship, fluffiest fluff that this rusty old hopeless romantic could write. First fic I’ve written in years, please be nice! Reader welcomes Arthur back home after he’s been away on a mission, suggestive ending.

Word Count: 1270 | AO3

· · ─────── ·��· ─────── · ·

The past few days had been a painful waiting game. Many of the men, including your dearest Arthur, had been away with no word on when they’d be back. The days hadn’t been any different than usual; the same monotonous chores driven by Miss Grimshaw’s ever-present nagging, the same mystery stew, the same gossip with the girls. It was the nights that wore down on your soul like a drip, slowly but surely eroding away its own path on a boulder. The quiet of the half-empty camp and the missing heartbeat from your bed were the drip, and the path they wore on you was the fear and the doubt. Only at night was it quiet enough for those ugly thoughts to simmer in your mind; thoughts of Arthur shot down and lying dead somewhere. Thoughts of your big, strong man, who always protected everyone else, being unable to protect himself anymore.

The creeping fingers of night were just beginning to take hold of the land, raking away the last remnants of sunset from the sky. You sat next to Abigail, talking just to keep busy, mending one of Arthur’s shirts as you spoke. You could tell John’s lingering absence was wearing on her. She had confided in you the fears that it brought back to her, the way it reminded her of when he had left. The pair of you tried to chat as usual, but in the tense atmosphere any attempt at small talk came out stilted and awkward. Eventually, Abigail left to put Jack to sleep, leaving you with just your thoughts. Your thoughts, and the shirt that you kept scrunching and unscrunching between your fists. It was Arthur’s, and it needed badly to be stitched up. It was an easy enough patch job, it could have taken just 20 minutes to fix, but you had been avoiding changing anything from the way he had left it. So you dawdled, lazily pulling the thread along the torn edges, wasting time to stop and inhale the scent of smoke and sweat, wasting even more time scrunching it as you absentmindedly did now. It wasn’t until the needle pricked into the palm of your hand that you were reminded of the task that you were so close to finishing in the dying light.

A short while later, after just a bit more forlorn procrastination, the shirt was finally good as new. The sun had dipped low beyond the horizon and the sky had blackened, illuminated only by the campfire. The night’s symphony was in full swing; frogs croaking, crickets chirping, a soft breeze that rustled the leaves in a way it could only do under the cover of darkness. Breaking through the predictable night sounds came a deep and irregular drumming, the beating of hooves on the path. Your heartbeat began to quicken as the drumming grew nearer, with both fear of the unknown and anticipation for the expected. Each second drew on like hours, but quickly the horses reached camp and at once the heartbeat of camp returned. You raced toward Arthur, who barely had time to dismount his horse before your arms were thrown around him. Had it been any other man, the enthusiastic impact may have caused him to sway; but Arthur’s burly frame stood strong against the earth, arms returning your embrace.

“Whoah there, batterin’ ram.” he chuckled low under his breath, fatigue creeping in against the edges of his amusement.

You backed away to study his face, his features tired but smiling down at you. “Sorry, just missed ya is all.” you exhaled softly, wasting no time in embracing the man once again. This time, however, your hands clasping behind his shoulders were met with a sharp sting permeating your palm. Recoiling in surprise, you looked at the palm to see the sewing needle from the shirt you were still holding lodged deep into the palm of your hand. “Shit” you cursed under your breath.

Arthur gently took your hand. “C’mere,” he spoke as he looked at the needle. With one smooth motion he removed the metal from the skin. He lifted the palm of your hand to his lips. “All better.” he murmured against your skin, somewhere between a whisper and a kiss. 

He still held your hand firmly in his, but you raised the mended shirt that you still held in your other hand. “Fixed your shirt.” you said as you raised it, its existence somehow proof of its new quality. Arthur only hummed in acknowledgement as he moved to kiss your wrist. 

The edge of camp where you had run to him was empty now, the other men having left to reunite with the campfire. You took a step towards Arthur, becoming aware of the isolation that the darkness offered. Arms draped over his shoulders and around his neck, you leaned upwards to plant a soft kiss to his jawline. After days on the road, his face scratched your lips in a way it hadn’t before. “I missed you.” you whispered against his shoulder , tracing a finger over the spot on his chin where the hair never grew.

He pulled you tighter into his embrace. “I hate to’ leave ya’.” It was his way of returning your sentiment. 

Your lips followed where your hand had traced, leaving a tender kiss against a long-healed scar. “I know…” you exhaled, cupping his square jaw in his hands. You trailed your soft and pouty lips across his face, weathered and scratchy from his stubble. Peppering kisses across his face; from his temples to his chin, the wrinkled outer corners of his eyes to the bent bridge of his nose. The corners of his mouth, but deliberately avoiding his lips. Every scar, proof of pain, was overpowered by merciful love.

He held you, a tender embrace between terrible people, as he guided your chin with his index finger and his thumb. He met your lips with the kind of comfortable familiarity one rarely finds, even in one's own self. Your lips interlocked together, as if they were puzzle pieces made to fit the other pair. How had life passed by before you had known each other? The lingering taste of tobacco and wild mint clung to him, his lips tasted like home. His rough fingers brushed across your cheek as he moved to hold you by the face, savouring his turn to take in the beauty that he had missed while away. Gazing into your heavily-lidded eyes, obscured in the darkness by thick lashes, he brushed a calloused thumb against your plush lower lip as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

You were a strange pair; two outlaws surrounded by a world of death and hurt and somehow it was the comfort of life that sprang forth whenever your spirits met. Though the grim reaper seemed to be your stalker, and Arthur’s closest business partner, darkness and death turned a blind eye to this love. Like a sense of yin and yang, there was some purity left in the blackened hearts of this world. The pair of you weren’t so different, just two souls forced to do wrong in this world. Together, it finally felt like you were doing something right.

Arthur leaned his head away from your lips to speak. “Been away for so long,” he started, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. “I wanna do more than jus’ kiss ya’.” he smirked. 

You grabbed him by the hand, “Well then, Mr. Morgan, I think you are in for a lucky night.” you teased back, guiding him to his tent.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, but if you are…Reader is the child of Maya and Carina. R is feeling a bit neglected by their moms. Missing events, pulling crazy hours at work, not really being there for Reader. R tries to confront Maya and Carina, but they don’t know what to do about crazy schedules. They work really hard to make reader feel more secure and loved by them. If you’re not taking requests, then please ignore this.

Time management

Summary: Showing up matters.

Pairing: Marina x daughter!reader

Warnings: a pinch of angst

Word count: 2075

a/n: what do you mean some of these are based on my experiences?? You can’t prove that!

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N takes a few deep breaths as she waits for her turn in the backstage area. She’s going through her lines in her head, making sure she won’t forget anything once she steps on the small stage, even though this isn’t the opening night.

She has been part of a youth theatre group for over two years now, and this is the first time she has gotten the lead role. Her nerves are high, but so is her excitement. This is a big moment for her, she is proud of herself, and she really hopes her moms will be proud of her too.

As her costar finishes their line, Y/N rolls her shoulders back, straightens her posture, and walks out to the stage. She starts speaking her lines to the audience, not yet acknowledging the other actor on the stage, this is her character’s inner monologue.

Her eyes scan over the crowd of people as discreetly as possible. There isn’t one empty chair in the room. This play became fairly popular after getting a spot in the local newspaper. She showed the page to her moms, practically glowing with pride. Her face isn’t showing any changes, but her mind is turning blue. Her mothers aren’t here. It is the last show, and her mothers aren’t here.

Still, she continues on. And she does wonderfully. All the teens come up to the stage at the end and take a bow as they listen to the applause with wide smiles. Someone’s parent brought everyone flowers, and it makes Y/N bitter, but she smiles and thanks them, her grip tight on the bouquet.

After changing out of her costume and packing her things, Y/N walks back home. It’s only a fifteen minute walk, so she is unlocking the front door by no time.

“I’m home!” She yells out, shutting the door and throwing her keys on the table in the hallway. “Anybody here?” Kicking off her shoes, she walks deeper into the house, only to find it empty.

Y/N sighs and walks into her room. She should’ve expected this. Both of her moms have demanding jobs, they won’t be able to attend to all of her achievements..or any of them.

This is just how it is.

Y/N’s hand shakes as she holds onto a piece of paper. It’s already crumbled by her grip, but she makes sure the text in it is still readable. Her body continues moving slightly, either from nerves or the uncomfortable feeling of the hard plastic chair she is sitting on.

She lets out a quiet sigh. Her turn is coming up. Soon, she will have to get up in front of all her peers and their parents, and give a speech that she wrote. Of course, Y/N accepted this responsibility when her teacher came up to her and said they believe her to be the best person for the job. And who is Y/N to say no to that? An adult figure comes to her and gives her a compliment, basically telling her they’re proud of her. She craves that. She needs it.

A round of applause brings her back to the moment. The teacher in front of the microphone is looking at her with a smile on their face, they’re signaling it’s her turn next.

Taking a deep breath, she straightens her posture and listens to the teacher’s introduction of her. After it, she stands up and walks in front of the microphone, thanking them for this opportunity.

Her eyes glance over everyone in the room. She doesn’t see her moms, but Y/N doesn’t panic. They have to be in the back, maybe they got in late, she reminded them of this event too many times for them to not show up.

She unwraps her paper and places it on the stand. “Good morning, students and parents. I’m thankful to be up here today, especially when knowing my school days are minimal.” She smiles. “The last months of school are scary, I’m sure many of my peers agree, there’s so much uncertainty in change. What am I supposed to do after? Where do I go? Who am I?”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “I don’t know what I want to do with my future. The fear of not being or doing something great debilitates me, because wouldn’t it be a waste of a life if I never did something memorable.” Her eyes stay on the audience, only occasionally glancing down at her paper. She has memorized this speech. “My moms change lives everyday, one of them is a firefighter and the other is an OB-GYN, she literally brings new life into this world.” She giggles quietly, though her worries are growing by the minute. Her moms are nowhere to be seen.

“You’d think that with parents like that, my need to change the world would be bigger. But they’re actually the reason why they shrink every day. They tell me that life isn’t about doing something big and great that future generations will remember you for. It’s about love, friends, family, the goodness of your heart, it’s about making yourself proud.” Y/N turns the page around. “My mother Maya tells me to imagine being with little me and telling her about my life. Would she be happy? Would her eyes shine in wonder because she knows I haven’t forgotten her?”

Swallowing, her eyes cast down. She’s gripping the sides of the paper tighter now. Her moms aren’t here. “I would like to say yes. Because even though I haven’t always done the right thing, she would still hug me and tell me it’s okay, because I’m still me, no matter what. You know why?” She looks at the audience with a lopsided smile, “because even though I can’t always recognize my reflection in the mirror, my laugh is still the same horrible cackle I had as a kid.” There are some laughs in the audience, especially from her friends, who have heard her laugh before.

“So, change is scary and you’ll probably never figure out who you truly are. But that’s okay, the little kid you imagine sitting next to you knows, and they think you’re pretty great.” Y/N folds her paper and gives the audience a bright smile. “Thank you again for giving me this opportunity, I hope you all have a great day, and remember to stay true to yourself.” The audience starts clapping and Y/N walks back to her seat.

“That was awesome!” One of her friends whispers, holding her arm with so much excitement.

“My moms aren’t here.” Is the only thing Y/N whispers back.

“Oh shit,” her friend frowns, “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs and gives her a small smile. “It doesn’t matter.” With that, she turns back to the teacher who has gone back to the microphone.

It’s already two in the night and Y/N is still up. She is sitting on the couch, watching the television while she waits for her moms to come back home from work. They wouldn’t like her being awake this late, but she doesn’t care. She is angry, and sad, and she needs to yell to someone, preferably her moms.

The front door opens quietly after twenty minutes, it’s her moms trying to come in without waking up sleeping Y/N. Their steps sound slow and sluggish, but they’re still giggling together. Somehow it angers Y/N even more.

“What are you still doing up?” Maya is the first one to come to the living room, though Carina is right behind her. “Is everything okay?” She drops her bag down to the floor before sitting on the other couch.

“Where were you?”

Carina looks confused, “we were at work, mia cara.”

Y/N scoffs, “my school event was today.” She states, glaring at her mothers. “You know, the one where I held a speech that I wrote. I reminded you about it like a million times!”

“Oh, honey,” Maya sighs, “we told you we’d try to get out of work for it, but you know how our jobs are.” She looks genuinely remorseful, but none of that matters to Y/N at this moment.

“It doesn’t look like you tried hard enough. I first told you about it months ago! They couldn’t give you one day off with that much notice?”

“Do you think we wanted to miss it?”

“Well it sure looks like you didn’t care about it, or me for that matter.”

“Y/N-“

Carina tries to speak up, but Y/N doesn’t let her speak, “no! I do think you wanted to miss this, I think you’ve wanted to miss every single event I’m in. You know why?” Her brows are raised as she stands up. “I don’t remember what the last important event of mine was where you actually showed up. You’ve missed all of my plays, my school events, sports games, everything. You’re never there! Nor are you ever here. You guys never have time to talk to me, or, or help me with my homework.” Her speech is starting to get faster and tears are starting to gather in her eyes. “I doubt you even know what’s going on with my life anymore!”

Maya and Carina try to defend themselves, but nothing comes out of their mouths. Y/N is right. Even they can’t remember the last time they spent proper quality time with their daughter.

“So what’s your excuse, huh? You don’t care about me anymore? You don’t want me anymore?” She shrugs, sniffling quietly. “I’d rather know than wonder why my moms don’t make time for me anymore.”

The hurt and vulnerability in her voice breaks Maya and Carina’s heart. Their daughter should never have to doubt their love for her. “I’m so sorry, love.” Maya stands up, taking a few steps forward. “We’re both so sorry. We just- I guess we didn’t realize how much time we were spending at work.”

Carina stands up and pulls Y/N into an embrace, which she resist at first, but gives up and leans in right after. “I’m sorry, mia cara, I’m sorry. You’re my baby and I love you more than anything else in the world.” Carina whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “You’re right, we haven’t been very good moms lately, but I promise you that will change, okay? We will do better.” She pulls away, setting her palms on both of Y/N’s cheeks to look at her face. She can’t stand seeing it with such a painful expression, especially one that she caused.

“You’re just saying that.” Y/N’s voice is more quiet now, her anger having turned to sadness.

“We’re not.” Maya states with a firm tone, setting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “We will start taking days off work, you’re more important. Do you think you could hold your speech for us now?”

Y/N shakes her head, looking down. “I don’t think I want to, not today at least.”

“Okay,” Maya frowns but she understands, “some other day then.”

“Yeah,” biting the inside of her cheek, Y/N wipes the wetness off of her cheeks, “do you think I could sleep in your bed this night?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Carina wraps one of her arms around Y/N as the three of them start walking towards the master bedroom.

They change into their pajamas and do the rest of their evening routine in silence. Y/N is the first one to climb onto the bed, already getting under the covers while her mothers whisper in the bathroom. She’s already half asleep when they turn off the lights and limb onto the bed, sandwiching her.

Carina starts playing with Y/N’s hair while Maya wraps her arms around her. “We love you so so much, you know that, right?” Her voice is quiet, not wanting to disturb her.

“Usually,” Y/N’s eyes are already closed, “but sometimes I doubt it. I really love you guys too.” She whispers.

Maya tightens her hold at the words. They pain her, but she doesn’t have anyone else to blame but herself. “We’ll make sure to remind you everyday.” The two women kiss Y/N’s forehead, saying their goodnights when they notice their daughter’s tiredness.

In their heads, they both vow to make Y/N feel more loved and cared for than she ever has.

[flem17ng]

would love love love a jessie x dancer!r pls & thankyou 💖 ps I love your work

strength and grace: Jflem x dancer!reader

note: This was so fun to write anon! Thanks for the prompt x

summary: jessie passes the same dance studio every day on her walk and admires the dancers. It never occurred to her that one of them was admiring her back. 

word count: 2.7k

The snow was thick on the pavement that morning and jessie thanked the poor bastard who’d taken the time to salt the path the night before. The snow made banks in both sides as she trudged onward. Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets and she hid her face in the collar of her jumper. Training never stopped, even in winter when the wind was sub zero and the field had to be heated. She was passing a small row of shops when gentle music made her pause. It echoed strangely through the empty street. It came from a stone building with large windows. She’d seen it before but had never taken the time to admire the dancers within. 

The glass was almost frosted over, but she leaned up to see inside. 

A lone figure stood in the warm light dressed in a half zipped hoodie and sweatpants. Her hair was in a messy bun that seemed to be slipping from the hair-tie. The woman moved to the music like water: graceful and fluid. every so often she paused, pressed a button on her phone and started the dance again. 

Jessie could have stayed there for hours watching that girl dance. But eventually her fingers started going numb and she was rudely reminded that she had to get to the training ground. 

She loved being back home in Canada, loved it even more when she was home for winter. Everything was so quiet and cold. The hockey season was kicking off, the ski fields opened up. Unfortunately it did mean training her ass off in freezing rain most mornings and today was no different. the raindrops started falling heavily as she pulled herself away from the dance studio window and she wished, randomly, that she was in there with that strange dancer instead of out in the cold. 

***

No matter how many times you practiced the move, you couldn’t pin it down. The studio was empty that morning because you had come in so early. You’d had to hype yourself up to get out of the house because of all the snow on the road. You have never been so grateful for the studios heating system. 

“fuck” you groaned. One second off the beat! Maybe you were being a perfectionist but it needed to be perfect. You pressed play again. The music filled the room in waves: piano, strange vocals, guitar. 

You lifted your hands above your head and moved. The dance wasn’t for a competition or anything, more of a passion project. You danced to get out emotions, to release. You moved to the music fluidly, feeling it, understanding. The tricky part was coming up again and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing. 

“ugh” you groaned again and rubbed your eyes. you psyched yourself out again. You looked around the empty studio and caught movement in the corner of your eye: a woman walking past the window, bundled up in the cold. For a second you thought your eyes met but she kept walking. maybe she was watching you dance, you thought and smiled. 

***

Jessie stood with her teammates as they made their lap of the stadium. The game had gone well and the energy was always fantastic during a home game. It was extra special for her because the game was so close to home. The crowd was full of family and friends. Fans who traveled to be there held large signs and decorated themselves with maple leaves and red paint. 

It was no small secret that you were a big fan of women’s soccer. Specifically that you were a big fan of Jessie Fleming. You first watched her play in the olympics a few years ago and from then on went to as many games as possible. Your friends often teased you about it, and sure, maybe it was a little silly. The truth was you just loved to watch her move. The way she ran across the pitch, the way her legs seemed to go wherever she needed to be. her muscles stretched and contracted and  her arms- Ok so maybe it wasn’t just about her soccer skills. 

The game had been a good one, you’d managed to get tickets right at the front and now the whole team was standing just a few metres away waving to the crowd. 

“omg Y/n i think that player you like is looking at you” your friend whispered with a smirk. You scanned the team and sure enough Jessie Fleming was watching you. She had a strange expression on her face, as if she was looking for someone she knew. Her cheeks were red and her hair was messy from the game. Dispite the cold air, she had pushed up her sleeves to sit above her shoulders making you blush.

She kept looking at you before shaking her head and giving you a grin. 

“what was that about” your friend laughed and slapped your arm. You would have replied but at that moment you were far too busy reminding your heart how to beat properly. 

Down on the field Jessie was tugged away by Quinn. they were talking about something, ball movement or something along that line but jessie was still thinking about the girl in the crowd. Maybe she was being crazy but she could have sworn that was the dancer from the studio in her town. The way You had smiled at her left her feeling a little dizzy. 

“hello Jeffy? are you listening at all?” Quinn laughed giving Jessie a small shove. 

“What of course I am! Ball something right?” 

Quinn shook their head with a smile. 

“You’ve been out of it since i caught you staring all gooey eyed at that lady in the stands! Do you know her?”

“I was not gooey eyed! also no one says that anymore. I don’t know i think she’s from my town.” jessie explained with a humph. 

“well i’m pretty sure she was wearing your jersey. Must be a fan” Jessie blushed but brushed them off. She was a grown woman! she wasn’t getting ‘gooey eyed’ over a pretty stranger who happened to dance like an angel. 

*** 

The next day Jessie made her way up the street to the studio with a purpose. She needed to see you. Even if she didn’t know you, even if she didn’t speak to you, She wanted to see you, To make sure it really was you at the game. 

When she reached the window she didn’t hesitate to lean into the glass and look into the warmly lit room. Instead of an empty room like a few day before, there where lots of young children in tiny too-toos. The music was light and bouncing and the kids laughed and screamed as they pointed their toes and spun around. It was a moment before the instructor came into view and, just as jessie had thought, it was you. You stood at the front of the room in a  skirt that matched the children’s, a glowing grin covered your face as you corrected the movements of a few stray kids. 

Jessie couldn’t help but smile as she watched you dance around the group, movements just as fluid as before but playful, full of joy, childish. 

She blinked and you disappeared, the class still dancing to the music inside. 

“excuse me? can i help you” You asked, head sticking out the door into the frosty air. Jessie turned, startled, only to watch your face change into a similar look of surprise. 

“I’m so sorry! I walk by here to get to my work and i usually stop to watch you dance! I didn’t want to interfere.” Jessie squeaked, feeling suddenly guilty. 

“no no! don’t worry i just- I’m sorry I’m y/n.” You smiled and stepped onto the front step, your breath making clouds in the air. 

“I’m jessie” she grinned and held out a hand for you to shake. You blushed and took it. 

“Jessie…” you breathed. “well Jessie, I wish i could chat for a while but these kids might light something on fire if i’m gone too long!” You began to turn back inside when she touched your arm to stop you. 

“i’m sorry this is so unusual but… Did you go to a football game last night by any chance?” Jessie questioned, wondering if there really was any way to ask this in a not creepy way. 

“i did yes. My uh, My favourite player was playing” you grinned and turned back inside. Jessie stood there on the step for a minute after you closed the door. It was you she had seen in the crowd, and you had a favourite player… Jessie wasn’t sure why that made her stomach flip. She wanted to be your favourite player. The thought hit her like a tone of bricks. She barely knew you for christs sake! yet here she was, standing in the snow outside your studio thinking of every way she could make you like her. 

***

The next match came faster than expected. It was a friendly up in toronto and the team was buzzing. Jessie had spent the past few travel days planning how she could impress you. Honestly this wasn’t her thing and maybe she was being crazy but that didn’t stop her. The day of the game was cold, the pitch was hard and the game itself even harder. 

It was second half when the penalty was given to canada: the wall was set up and jessie (the designated kicker) was lining up the shot. 

The crowd roared and she spared a glance at the stands. It was then that she spotted you, sitting right by the goal in a thick Canada jumper. 

The whistle blew and jessie kicked. The ball sailed through the air, spinning and spinning. The crowd had already begun the rise when it slipped past the goalies fingers and slammed into the back of the net. 

Jessie ran forward towards the crowd and lifted her hands above her head, arching up into her toes and lifting her head to the sky mimicking the movement of a ballet dancer. At the last second, before the team ran into her, she looked at you, making sure you had seen the celebration. Sure enough, you stood in your seat, grin plastered across your face giving jessie a thumbs up. It was pretty easy to say that was the best game all season. 

***

The damn heating system had broken down. On the plus side, the kids classes had been canceled that morning because of the snow, on the down side: You now had an extra hour of empty studio time in the freezing Canada cold.  You switched the music on, adjusted your jumper and started to dance. You had finally finished the number, ironed out the kinks and gotten past the tricky timing. The movement flowed easily and you let your muscles relax and you danced. You were so engrossed in the music that you didn’t hear the door open or the footsteps on the floorboards. Only after the dance ended did your intruder announce herself. 

“sorry i didn’t know your coffee order so i just got hot chocolate” You wizzed around at the sound of her voice and saw her leaning against the mirror with to steaming cups and a sheepish smile. 

“Jesus Jessie! you scared me!” You tried to look angry but couldn’t, instead breaking into a grin and grabbing a cup from her outstretched hand. The drink warmed up your hands and you took a moment to let the heat seep through your bones. 

“you look so peaceful when you dance” Jessie all but whispered, looking down at her own cup. 

“oh… Thank you. I use dance to… center myself i think.” You leant against the mirror next to her and watched her watch you for a moment. “Nice goal the other day by the way. Very impressive. The celebration was a nice touch even if your form was a little off” 

Jessie blushed and rolled her eyes at herself, still in disbelief that she had done that. 

“well, I needed something to get your attention didn’t i?” she muttered. 

“you already had all my attention. I told you i was there to see my favourite player didn’t I?” You unzipped your number and turned around showing her the large “17” on your back. Jessie opened her mouth into a little ‘o’. 

“oh! I’m your favourite?” She smiled with wide eyes. You just laughed and shook your head.

“of course you are!” 

jessie grinned and ducked her head, embarrassed. Here she was making a fool out of herself for a pretty girl who already liked her. 

When she looked up she found you watching her with warm eyes. You admired her for a moment: Even in the cold of the audio Jessie seemed to radiate a warmth, a cozy energy. Her cheeks were pink (from blush or cold you couldn’t tell) and her eyes sparkled in the warm light. 

“I love hot chocolate by the way” you stated, holding up the cup. 

“oh yeah? Lucky guess i suppose.” Jessie took a large gulp of her own drink leaving a fine line of chocolate froth of her top lip. 

“oh wait you have- let me” Before you could think, you leant forward and wiped the foam from her top lip with your thump. Jessie let out a sharp breath making you pause, thumb still resting near her mouth. you looked at each-other for a long moment, your hand not moving, your eyes traveling from jessie’s eyes to her lips and back again. 

The door opened with a bang causing you both to jump apart. 

“Y/n!! we need to get the bloody heater working before tomorrow or i will freeze!” One of the other dancers yelled before noticing the awkward air in the room. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t know you had a… guest?”

Jessie coughed and stepped back. “no that’s ok I was just leaving” she turning and walked towards the door quickly. 

“wait jessie-“

“see you later y/n” jessie gave you a wave and a lopsided smile before stepping outside and out of view.

***

You couldn’t make it to the next game because it was in another province but you watched on TV. Jessie was glowing the whole game: running like lightning, tackling the opposition seamlessly. When she made an epic assist you stood on your sofa and cheered. And when the ball hit the net and the whole Canada team copied Jessie’s celebration from the other night (arms up, toes pointed like a squad of muscly ballerinas) you couldn’t help but gasp and slap a hand over your mouth. She knew you would be watching, Of course she did. 

Maybe it was this elation that possessed you to walk to the training center in the small hours of the morning on the day the team was set to arrive back. Maybe the thought of jessie smiling as she pretended to dance on the field was the thing that had you waiting for the bus to pull up and the doors to open. Whatever it was, there you were: the sun not yet risen, freezing in your ‘Fleming’ jersey in sub zero temperatures as jessie, looking tired and sore, got off the bus with her team. 

You waited no time running towards her, pausing only a second so she could drop her bags and open her arms. When you hugged her, all of a sudden you felt like no music or dance in the world could explain your feelings. 

“Jessie- I saw on TV! Did you ask them to do that with you? I saw-“

Jessie cut you off, placing a hand on your neck and finally putting her lips of yours. Her lips were cold and yours tasted like lip balm but you didn’t care. You pulled her closer and kissed her. Vaguely you could hear the team cheering but you paid it no mind, holding your girl close. 

This was all you needed. She was all you needed.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 26

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military Universe

Words: 5k

TW: Violence

Masterlist

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 Wednesday, December 23; 8:00 PM - Home

A few days have passed since I returned to Barcelona. I’ve never enjoyed a vacation so much. There hasn't been a single moment of boredom. Mapi has practically been living at my place since I got back. As usual, her parents are off living their own lives without her, so she’s living hers without them. Sunday was fantastic. Joan was over the moon when we took him to the amusement park. He hadn’t realized I’d be staying for two whole weeks, so when he understood I’d be here longer than usual, he was ecstatic.

I haven’t told him yet that I’ll be leaving earlier for New Year’s, but he’ll probably be too busy to notice. As always, my mom and Marcus will take him to celebrate New Year’s with friends who have a child his age. In any case, I’ll make a resolution to keep in touch with him more regularly. He’s missed me so much that she hasn’t left our side even once. Not during our movie and TV marathon on Saturday, not during our day at the skate park the next day, and especially not when we went to the ice rink. Those were incredible days.

Today, we decided it would be a relaxation day. Joan is at a friend’s house, so we spent our morning at the beauty salon. We got waxed and had our nails done for Christmas Eve. My family will be coming over tomorrow. I usually take care of myself, but this time we wanted to be pampered. Well, it was mainly Mapi who was dying for it. She couldn’t let go of the idea. So, I sucked it up and wore clothes that didn’t require me to undress completely. She’s lucky I appreciate the results. We continued the day with lunch at a restaurant in town, and then we went to the pool. It was so much fun. It seems like it just opened, so there weren’t many people, and we could relax as we should.

Now, here we are, standing in line for the cinema. It must be around 8:00 PM. It’s a way to do something relaxing without being cooped up in my room. I found out while she was in the shower that she’s been harassed by Ana. Apparently, Ana is sorry and wants Mapi back. I was relieved to see she hadn’t responded to any of the texts, but also slightly hurt that she hadn’t told me. I respect her silence, though. I haven’t brought it up with her, afraid she might shut down. That doesn’t stop me from being a good friend. I noticed she’s been glancing at her phone whenever she gets the chance today. I sense she’s about to crack, so I’ve done everything in my power to keep her busy. It’s clear she’s not doing as well as she pretends, although I imagine our days full of activities help her not think about it.

It’s time to pay for our tickets. I don’t even know what movie we’re going to see. I let Mapi choose since I haven’t been keeping up with new releases while I was at Camp Wiegman. We have similar tastes, so I’m not worried. Mapi insists on stopping by the concession stand for some popcorn. I take the opportunity to grab a drink, which she ends up getting too. We then have our tickets validated and head into our theater. We’re half an hour early, so I’m not surprised to find the place empty. We settle in a corner at the top. Mapi is never quiet during a movie, no matter where we are. She has the annoying habit of commenting on every action. Needless to say, it annoys everyone around us. It used to irritate me too, but over time, I started commenting with her. We’ve gotten to the point where if we’re watching a movie at home, we pick one we’ve already seen to make sure we understand the content.

I still make the effort to go to the movies with her, thinking I can always rewatch the film online if it seems good. It reminds me that Lucy had offered to lend me some movies, but she never did. I doubt she remembers. That conversation must have been over a month ago. I feel a pang of guilt, realizing I haven’t written to her since returning to Miami. Then again, she hasn’t written to me either. After all, she’s just my supervisor; I shouldn’t worry. She’s made it clear more than once that we can’t be friends while I’m her student.

"Isn’t that Miller and Bryan down there?" Mapi asks me.

I scan the area, looking for two heads that could be our friends. I smile when I spot them a few rows below us, completely on the opposite side. It’s impossible for them to see us. I notice their little gestures of affection, which are so cute.

"Yeah, it looks like it."

"Should we call out to them? I mean, we could see them at the same time."

"They’re on a date, leave them alone. We’ll catch up with them after the movie."

Mapi nods in agreement. The lights dim shortly after. To be honest, I’m still having a hard time seeing them as a couple, but they’re so adorable. To think that a few years ago, it was us as a couple and them as best friends. At least Mapi and I were lucky not to lose each other. She clumsily apologized for kissing me spontaneously. I couldn’t blame her for needing affection. Few people manage to stay on good terms with their ex, but I’m glad we did. She was my rock back then, and I won’t forget what she did for me. My feelings were mixed when we first reconnected, but I quickly pushed them aside, realizing it wasn’t mutual anymore. I never knew if that was truly the case, but I guess she was just protecting herself.

The ads fade away, and the movie begins. As I predicted, Mapi comments on every action, but today it’s a bit different. She also starts complimenting the women in the film. She seems to find them beautiful and amazing She’s lucky I’m  lesbianand find some truth in her words; otherwise, I’d get bored quickly. I join in, telling her my preferences. I’ve always preferred brunettes, even dark-haired ones,I find them more attractive and mysterious.

“Tell me an actress you find hot.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Just because. Someone you’d want in your bed.”

“I don’t want anyone in my bed.”

“You know exactly what I mean! Like if you had the chance to go on a date with an actress... Or a celebrity, whatever. Who would you choose?”

“Your question is really dumb.”

“Come on, play along. Give me a name.”

I think about it, running my hand through my hair. I have no idea. I don’t have a favorite actress or anything like that.

“I don’t know. Mila Kunis?” I say randomly.

“Mila Kunis?” she repeats. “Hmm… Not bad, true. Does she look like Bronze?”

I roll my eyes. And there she goes again, bringing up the subject. I don’t know what’s gotten into her with Lucy lately, but she keeps asking me questions about her.

“No,” I shut down.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just that I wonder what she looks like. I have the right to be curious. Here, compare her to Mila Kunis so I can get an idea.”

I can’t believe it when she pulls up a picture of the actress on her phone. I already know she won’t leave me alone until she gets her answers. I sigh and look at the photo carefully to make a comparison.

“Lucy has a much finer nose and much fuller lips. As for her eyes, they’re almond-shaped and green, much more sparkling than the dark eyes Mila Kunis has in this picture. And her hair leans more towards a brown shade than black.”

Mapi nods seriously. She seems to be creating an image of my supervisor in her head. Her silence makes me wonder if I went too far with my details. I realize just how much I’ve observed her to know so much about her appearance. She finally turns to me with a small smile forming on her lips.

“She must be cute.”

“She is.”

“Is she taller than you?”

I think back, trying to recall moments that might give me an answer to this question. I nod eventually.

“Yeah. But only by a few centimeters.”

“So, you claim you’re not interested in her, but you can tell me details like that about her?”

A smug smile spreads across her face, and I realize my mistake. I knew it was a bad idea to tell her all that.

“You’re exasperating, Mapi.”

“And yet, I didn’t even point out that you called her Lucy. So that’s her little name?”

I groan at her teasing. I slowly run my hand over my face to avoid losing my temper.

“Where’s her part in her hair?”

“Mostly in the middle, but sometimes she moves it to the left side.”

The words slip out before I can hold them back. I’m surprised myself at how easily I answered. How did I retain such subtle information about her? Damn brain. Mapi mocks me without restraint.

“Just as I thought.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” she smiles foolishly.

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumble. 

I sink into my seat, crossing my arms, clearly upset that my mind could betray me like that. How did I answer so instinctively? Lucy is my supervisor. Sure, she’s beautiful and attractive, but that doesn’t mean I’m interested.

Mapi tries to insist one more time, but she’s met with "shhhhht" sounds from all around. I think we’ve reached our chatter limit. It doesn’t seem to calm Mapi, who starts laughing at every scene that’s even slightly funny. No matter how much I ask her to calm down, it feels like she’s doing it on purpose to annoy our neighbors. They’re starting to get really angry, but fortunately, the movie is coming to an end. I wouldn’t have bet on our safety if it had lasted any longer. We hurry out of the theater as soon as the credits roll to avoid facing the hateful glares of the other viewers. Sometimes I wonder if we’re really civilized. Right now, I’d say no. I instantly regret our rush when we run into the one person we would’ve wanted to avoid on this earth. Mapi instinctively takes a defensive stance in front of me. Feli doesn’t take her eyes off me for a second, as if I’m the only one there.

- "Ona-..."

- "Don’t talk to her," Mapi interrupts in a sharp tone.

- "That’s not for you to decide."

- "Forget it. Let’s go, Mapi..."

I grab her arm, and I couldn’t say if it’s to pull her away with me or to stop her from doing something she might regret—or not. Mapi stays rooted to the spot, glaring daggers at my ex. I can understand her urge to tear her apart for what she did, right here and now. However, this is neither the time nor the place. All I want is to get out of here. I realize that’s not her intention when she violently shakes off my grip.

- "Get out of the way," she growls.

- "No," she says, stepping forward. "You know, Ona... I thought I’d see you again after what I injected you with."

A shiver runs down my spine as she admits this, never taking her eyes off me. No... I can’t believe it. She didn’t just say that.

- "I’m disappointed to see you in such a normal state..."

I feel myself wavering as she manages to slip past Mapi’s defenses to stroke my hand. Her gesture, which should be gentle, sends me spiraling back into a whirlpool of memories. I’m disconnected from my senses until Mapi’s fist slamming into Feli’s face brings me back to reality. Her punch is so powerful that she crashes to the ground, her mouth agape.

- "That’s for what you did to my best friend. And this is for sleeping with my girlfriend, you bitch!"

Her words are followed by a kick to her stomach. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mapi this angry. I’m so caught up in the scene that I jump when an arm wraps around my shoulders. I struggle against the unexpected contact, but calm down when I see Bryan by my side. Meanwhile, Miller is grabbing my best friend by the waist, pulling her away from Feli before the situation escalates further. Security has been called. They arrived just in time to restrain my ex, who was about to fight back. The guys managed to defuse the situation by announcing our departure. However, Mapi isn’t willing to leave it at that.

"Don't let her go!" she spits out. "She's gone mad, and she's stalking my friend. She even just admitted in front of everyone that she drugged her to get her back! You better not let her follow us, or I'll press charges against you!"

"Mapi, that's enough," says Miller, trying to calm her down.

"No, it's not enough! That bitch deserves what’s coming to her!"

"Let's just leave, please."

Bryan nods and leads me towards the exit. Thankfully, Miller is strong enough to drag Mapi out with us after apologizing to the officers. I'm struggling to process the whole encounter. It feels like I'm in shock. Mapi keeps cursing under her breath to vent her frustration, which isn't helping me pull myself together. If the guys hadn't intervened, things could've gone really wrong. It's only when we get outside that Mapi notices my state. She immediately pulls me into her arms.

"Are you okay?" she murmurs.

I want to answer her, but no words come out. I try to nod to reassure her, but it’s all lies. Feli drugged me. She really drugged me to make me relapse. How can I be okay? I can't even tell if she went further because I have no memory of it. For all I know... No, I don't even want to think about it.

"How about we forget this whole incident by grabbing a drink?" Miller suggests. "We wanted to catch up, so now's the time."

Mapi agrees without consulting me, so I have no choice but to go along. Miller drives us there in his car. Mapi and I are in the back. She's set her anger aside to try to lift my spirits. It's a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort. When we get to the bar, I wait just long enough to order a drink before excusing myself. I need to be alone and get some air. Mapi didn’t want to let me go out alone, but Miller convinced her. I couldn’t be more grateful. I sit on the curb once outside, burying my head in my arms to collect my thoughts. The evening has gone by too fast. I can't fully grasp everything that happened. After a while, I pull my phone out of my pocket and fidget with it, debating whether to call her or not. I realize I should've done it days ago. I muster up the courage to do it now. One ring... Two... Three... My heart stops when the beeping ends.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoes in my head. I can't find the words to speak. My lower lip trembles so much it affects me. I never thought hearing her voice would make me feel so relieved.

"Ona?" she presses, sensing my silence.

I let my head fall back into my arms as a sob escapes, one I can't hold back. Why do I always turn to her only when I’m not okay? She deserves so much better, even if she doesn’t want me as a friend.

"I'm sorry for calling so late..." I say between sniffles.

« It’s not late in Manchester " she replies calmly. "What's going on?"

"No... I—We’re halfway through the week... I- I should’ve called you much sooner," I murmur.

"It doesn’t matter, as long as you're okay. But you're not, are you?"

"I'm sorry for only talking to you when I need something," I say, choking up.

"Hey, that’s not true, and you know it."

"Yes, it is!" I cry out.

"Don’t raise your voice like that," she scolds me.

"S-sorry... I-I shouldn’t have."

She sighs long and hard, making me cry even harder. I feel so pathetic. I shouldn’t have called her now. I couldn’t even talk to Mapi, so there’s no way I’d be able to do it with Lucy either. I should've waited until I was more composed.

"Hey, Ona. I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to tell me something. Anything," she orders sternly.

"You don’t have the right to give me orders from afar," I say, managing a weak smile.

I joke to lighten the mood. I hear her laugh, which warms my heart. I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and tighten my jacket, remembering I’m wearing hers. I couldn't find one that suited me when we were at the mall. I guess it’s because I’m already too attached to this one.

"I have every right over you. Have you forgotten?"

"It seems I have," I murmur.

"Enough joking... You didn’t call for no reason, did you?"

I groan, shaking my head. I feel foolish now that she's voicing the truth. I would've hung up a long time ago if I were her.

"Come on, spill it. You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t need to."

I rest my head on my arm, thinking for a moment. I do need this, that’s for sure, but how do I say it without breaking down completely? A silence falls between us that neither of us breaks. She’s waiting for an answer.

"It’s her..." I finally whisper.

"Her? You’ll have to be clearer if you want me to understand anything," she chuckles.

"Feli, my ex, the junkie. S-she’s the one who drugged me the other night. W-We ran into her with Mapi, and she admitted it. I—"

"Hey, calm down. Why are you reacting like this? Isn’t this supposed to be good news?" she asks. "It proves it wasn’t you who did it. That’s what you wanted to know, right? I think it’s a good thing. You didn’t relapse on your own."

How does she manage to find something positive in this mess?! I’m tearing my hair out, tormented. I know she's trying to reassure me, but she’d change her tune if she knew how seeing him again affected me. She can't know because she doesn’t know what he put me through.

"Well... If you say so..."

"Come on, dry your tears. You look so much cuter with a smile on your face."

She’s really trying to cheer me up. I smile timidly and run my fingers under my eyes to wipe away the black streaks of makeup that have probably run.

"So, how’s your vacation going, besides all that?" she suddenly changes the subject.

"Good... I’m enjoying it like you advised me to. And you?"

"Same here. I’m seeing my family and leaving for Portugal early tomorrow morning for a few days."

"You’re so lucky. I wish I could go back there too..."

"I can imagine. How’s Mapi? Is she doing better?"

"Yeah, she’s okay. We’re spending all our days together."

"Do you already have plans for New Year’s?"

"Yeah, I’m heading back to Manchester early. Leah and Alessia are hosting a party at their place."

"Oh. So Mapi agreed then."

"Yeah, it’ll be good for her to get a change of scenery. It was either that or we’d spend the night alone at my place."

"I see," she laughs. "That wouldn’t be the worst thing either."

"For you, maybe, but definitely not for Mapi. She’s never experienced anything like that at home."

"That’s a shame. Do you already know where you’ll be staying before school starts again?"

I stay silent. Honestly, I haven’t thought about it. Lucy laughs heartily. I hide my smile, rubbing my cheeks against the sleeves of my jacket. Damn. I’ve missed hearing her laugh so much.

"You haven’t thought about it, have you?"

"Not really, no," I admit with flushed cheeks. "I guess I’ll try to negotiate a spot with the Leah and Alessia, and if they can’t put me up, I’ll get a hotel room."

"A hotel?" she scoffs. "Don’t be silly. If you really have nowhere to stay, let me know, okay?"

"Oh no, don’t worry. I’ll manage."

"I’m serious. I’m not going to let you stay on the streets. Knowing you, you’d get lost."

"Ha ha ha, very funny!" I laugh sarcastically.

"It’s true," she giggles. "By the way, where are you? I can hear cars passing by."

"In the street, outside," I say with a smile, knowing how she’ll react.

"Excuse me?"

I can picture her frowning with a stern look on her face. Why am I still smiling like an idiot? Lucy must have this effect on me.

"I’m in the street, outside a bar," I repeat.

My smile widens even more. She’s definitely going to scold me. I start an unconscious countdown in my head. I reach zero just as she raises her voice through the phone.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"

"No."

"Oh, so let me get this straight. One bad moment, and you’re ready to get wasted? If that’s your plan, you’d better head home!"

"Relax, I’m not alone. Mapi’s with me."

"And that’s supposed to make me feel better?" she grumbles. "She was with you last time too!"

I laugh, realizing she’s right. That night, she left me for her girlfriend, and she wasn’t in any better shape than I was. I don’t think Lucy noticed when she had her on the phone. If she had, she wouldn’t have trusted her to get me home. One thing I know is that I did the right thing by calling her. Without her, I would’ve ended the night with a brain in pieces.

"I’m with two other friends. I don’t intend to drink. If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting on the curb talking to you. I’d be inside drinking."

"Hmm," she says, skeptical. "You’d better text me every five minutes to update me on your sobriety once this call is over."

"If you want," I say with a smile. "Aren’t you going out tonight?"

"No. I have to get up early, so I’m enjoying a quiet evening in my apartment."

"Oh, I’m bothering you then."

"Don’t be ridiculous. I’m happy to talk to you."

"Oh really...? Me too," I admit. "I never thought I’d miss your bossy attitude this much. I keep thinking about what you’d say when I’m in an awkward situation," I chuckle.

"It’s been a while since you’ve called me that. I hope you’re at least listening to that little voice if you’re hearing it."

I hold back a laugh. If she knew all the trouble Mapi has gotten me into... I’d end up doing more than just laps.

"Come on, you have to tell me all the nonsense you’ve been up to now."

I finally laugh softly. My long silence must have given me away.

"No, it’s better not to."

There’s a silver lining to the distance after all. She can’t reach me, let alone intimidate me with her eyes and gestures.

"I’m not kidding. If you come back as that little kid from the very beginning, you’re going to hear from me."

"Hey!" I exclaim, offended. "That girl is long gone."

"Hmm, she’d better be."

I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder. I look up to see that it’s just Mapi. She’s leaning her head to the side with a small smile. I relax my muscles and timidly return her smile.

"Feeling better? You seemed really upset when you came out."

"Yeah... I’m feeling better," I reassure her without taking the phone from my ear.

"Who’s on the phone? Is it the person who managed to bring that smile back to your face?"

"Hmm," I shrug. "It’s Bronze."

I instantly regret being honest when I see a dreamy smile appear on her lips. I’ve just fueled her imagination. Those mental movies of hers won’t be going away anytime soon

- "Hey, I thought I told you not to use my name anymore," comments Lucy through my phone with a hint of playfulness.

- "I'll call you whatever I want!"

- "What does your boss want?" asks Mapi.

- "Nothing. How's your hand?" I ask, noticing an ice pack on her fist.

- "Hurts, but it was worth it," she giggles.

Both of them start talking at the same time, as if they're having a conversation with each other even though they can't hear each other. I don't know where to turn my head. I can't even decipher their words. I groan as I run my hand over my eyes.

- "For heaven's sake, shut up!" I groan.

I open my eyes again when the silence finally falls. I glance at my best friend, who is staring at me with wide eyes.

- "Thank you," I sigh. "How's your hand?" I finally ask Mapi, noticing the ice pack on her fist again.

- "Hurts, but it was worth it," she giggles.

- "Thanks again..."

- "It's normal," she smiles softly. "Well, I'm going home. Don't stay out too late."

I nod as I watch her go back inside. I groan, massaging my temples. I hope she won't be too upset with me for raising my voice.

- "You guys just gave me a headache."

- "At least now you know how it feels when you drive me crazy," Lucy giggles.

- "Are you kidding? I've never yelled in your ears, and I'm not that crazy!"

- "Oh yes, you were! At least, you used to be," she giggles. "You still have your moments, but now I find it adorable as long as you don't overdo it."

- "Oh, come on," I mumble, hiding my blush.

- "The worst was during exam revision when you wouldn't let anyone say anything to you."

- "Hey! Sometimes it was worth it, I was right!"

- "It only happened once!"

- "Once, but that question was on the exam! Believe me, I answered it correctly."

- "Well, good for you, if you can remember things like that."

- "Yeah."

- "Okay, I'm going to let you go; you must be expected. Enjoy your evening, but not too much."

- "Already?"

I have a hard time hiding my disappointment. I would have preferred to spend the evening talking to her. Am I crazy for wanting that?

- "Yes," she laughs. "Enjoy your time with your friends. We'll have plenty of time to talk when you get back. And don't forget to moderate, or even avoid alcohol, okay?"

- "I'm twenty, Luce. I can moderate myself."

- "Hmm, you never know.The past proved me wrong."

- "Not here. Do you have Snapchat?"

- "Snapchat? Why are you asking?"

- "If you give it to me, I could send you pictures of my drinks to make sure I'm not drinking."

- "Of course," she laughs. "Even if you send me a picture of a soda, who’s to say you haven't mixed it with vodka? I'd need to smell the drink instead, don't you think?"

- "As far as I know, there's no app that can do that yet."

- "You're silly," she giggles. "Okay, I'm letting you go. Don't forget I want texts. I wouldn't want you to do something stupid again."

- "I promise. Goodnight, Lucy."

- "Goodnight to you too, Ona. Don't stay out too late."

I put away my phone after we hang up. Now that I'm alone again, all my thoughts come flooding back. I sigh as I stand up. I pat my jeans to get rid of any dirt that might have clung to them. My butt is cold now from sitting on the ground. That wasn't very smart of me. I look at my phone, which is already vibrating. I smile when I see the handle, which I guess is her Snapchat: LBronze22. Wow, I can't believe it! I didn't expect to get it. My request was just a joke. I could know her whole life if she posts stories regularly. Then again, it's not impossible that she might block me too. I add her immediately on the app, then I head back inside. They're talking about the couples that formed among the people who were with us in high school. The room goes quiet when I sit down.

- "Don't stop on my account," I say.

- "How are you feeling?" Miller asks me.

- "Better. I just needed to step out."

I catch Mapi's smug smile, which I quickly avoid. She can smile all she wants because I do feel better thanks to Lucy. Thinking of her, I decide to kick off the fun by sending her a picture of my glass of soda. I caption it saying it's my one and only drink. I also take the initiative to write her a message, as she asked me to do regularly. I force myself to join the conversation to reassure my friends. I ask about some people I liked back then. The evening continues here for another good hour. I kept texting Lucy discreetly so as not to attract Mapi's attention. We decide to leave the bar around half past midnight. When I told Lucy, she seemed happy that I was being reasonable for once. Our last message exchange happens just as Miller drops us off at my place. We wished each other goodnight. I didn't want to bother her any longer, and besides, I planned to go to bed once I was in my room. I go to the bathroom first, then I join Mapi. Unlike the past few nights, it's Mapi's turn to hold me as we sleep. That's why I adore her. I don't need to talk or pretend with her. She knows me too well for that. Luckily for me, sleep caught up with me before I reached the point of insomnia.

[lambilegs]

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more lee harker headcanons (pt. 2) bc the devil works hard but special interests work harder

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love language is definitely acts of service. she often struggles to voice her affection and appreciation for others, for a variety of reasons -- including she's just not used to it, she feels at a loss and overwhelmed at having to voice it out, and she's not used to such vulnerable communication. she shows her affection, therefore, in other ways. like, making sure to show up and keep her promises (ex. when she tells ruby she'll be there at her party), doing tasks to help others without being asked (like, buying her loved ones food when they casually mention being hungry) and overall being attentive and always having the consideration for others at the back of her head

super strong sense of justice. she'll never take shortcuts and the easy way if it means doing things right (like, when carter tells her to just accept that they have longlegs in custody, and she presses on to discover the accomplice in order to save any future families)

not the best at taking care of herself. she gets so swamped in work, and also just doesn't give herself the attention she deserves. this translates to skipped or rushed meals, and not getting enough sleep

picks her lips when focused and rubs and twists her hands when she's contemplating or feeling uncomfortable

spent her childhood liking the quiet nature of heading into an empty church. she loved the history of the buildings too, and all of the art and architecture. as she's grown up, and has strayed from religion, she can't help but feel uncomfortable in them now. she feels like an outsider creeping in secretly, and her lies to her mom about praying always hang over her in those moments.

keeps a bible in her home because it reminds her of her mother, and because, in spite of her own distance from religion, it just brings a sense of familiarity

gets cold easily and likes to wear clothes that'll cover her up and keep her warm

also hates the heat vehemently LMAOOOO so prefers any other season to it (probably has a soft spot for fall)

sits out on her porch when it rains and snows sometimes, just leaning in a chair, or sitting on the floor, watching the water fall, the steady motion of it relaxing her

felt uncomfortable in highly feminine clothes as a kid, and grew up to still feel uneasy if she considers wearing such an outfit

LOVES oversized clothes -- doesn't mind at all that her FBI jacket is so big on her

sometimes gets dragged to lesbian bars by her friends, but she usually just wants to talk to them or people watch. if there is someone she's interested in, she'll do nothing but quietly watch and pray they telepathically hear her thoughts and come her way lol her friends usually need to intervene

has instant noodles and cereal way too much. she knows it's not good for her, and hides it from her mom when ruth asks how she's eating

goes on jogs in the woods in the morning (wearing a tank top or sweatshirt like HOTTTT), and usually has her walkman on when doing so, just losing her thoughts to the music and using the opportunity to clear her head

sometimes needs a moment after questioning a suspect in the interrogation room, or even interviewing someone like a witness or relative to the victim. not many of her coworkers know this (probably only the ones who have worked close with her, like browning or carter), but the cases do get to her emotionally. the brutality, the disgusting nature of what's done, the impacts this has on families, the lack of justice -- it has her feeling an entire spectrum of emotions, from discomfort to rage to devastation to determination to do what she can to help.

feel like she has a guilty pleasure for spicy food and has a surprisingly good tolerance for it

[stylesispunk]

"would you kiss me under the mistletoe?"

Ceo!Joel Miller x f! Reader

summary: Christmas is coming, and the annual party at the company might be the night you get to kiss your boss. Warnings: none. Just fluff. word count: 3k>

a/n: I wrote this one yesterday during my break, so since Christmas is around the corner I got inspired by the magical spirit, I hope you enjoy it 🤞💌 reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

masterlist

dividers by @/plum98

Christmas wasn’t special for you. You had never celebrated the night over dinner surrounded by your family, at least not since you were a kid. 

The holiday season was just a reminder of the absence of belonging somewhere, to a home, and those sweat-warm nights with your family had been left behind, the laughter, and the joy of the anticipated wait for Santa was just a tear slipping down your heart, becoming memories fading away each passing year. 

But you still love it. You loved the twinkling lights, finding solace in the love filling the air, even in people losing their minds over finding an important gift to give to their loved ones. And you just loved the scent of freshly baked cookies, and the songs playing on the radio. You just found magic in the season in a certain way, creating your little bubble of coziness inside the four walls of your apartment. 

Even at work, the lights and decorations seemed to envelop the place into a festive atmosphere that made your heart melt. 

The days leading up to the company's annual Christmas party create the joyful spirit of the upcoming holidays in the atmosphere. Everyone around you received lovely greetings and well-wishes from your coworkers. You couldn't help but admire and smile at the picture because it was the closest you could get to being surrounded by a crowd during these days. Before returning home to an empty apartment with a tiny Christmas tree in the corner of your living room, next to a door and a picture of you and your mother who was thousands of kilometers away.

You were engrossed in your own self-pity and didn't notice Joel approaching you. He'd been your employer for the previous year and a half, and his cute face had been on your mind from the day you walked into this office for the first time, and his kind personality didn't help you get rid of the crush you'd developed on him.

Joel, seemingly oblivious to your internal struggles, flashed a warm smile. "Hey you”

You, shaken from your thoughts, managed a smile in return. “Mr. Miller”

Joel chuckled, “How many times I’ve told you just to call me Joel”

"I-I know, it's just... force of habit, I guess." You stuttered, feeling the red rushing into your cheeks.

Joel's laughter filled the air, and he leaned casually against your desk. "So, any exciting plans for the holidays?"

You sighed, glancing toward the horizon, almost picturing the small Christmas tree in your apartment, the twinkling lights casting a soft glow in the dark "Not really. Just the usual. Quiet night at home, maybe watch some movies."

He laughed, perhaps thinking it was just a joke.

“Are you coming to the party tomorrow, right?” he asked you, his eyes shone under the soft light of the day.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'll be there. It's a good time."

"Great! Looking forward to it," Joel said with a smile, the kindness in his eyes reflecting a genuine excitement “Besides, secret Santa tomorrow? Exciting!”

You beamed at him, lost in the urge to kiss him right now, and ending with the thoughts that had tormented you for over a year. "Yeah, I guess so," you said. "Last year I had Betty, I'm glad she liked the present I got for her"

"That's because you're attentive and nice," he explained, "and everyone here is aware of it. "This is why we all love you."

Your eyes widened, and your heart stopped beating.

"I mean, why do they love you," he clarified, clearing his throat.

He panicked when you didn't respond.

"And you're my best employee." he added, trying to dismiss the words that escaped from his lips "My favorite," he added, just to make you smile.

As Joel's words remained in the air, the hot flush spread across your cheeks.

"Yeah," you said, your voice a little lower than normal. " Thank you, Joel. I'm grateful."

He grinned, obviously oblivious to the effect his words had on you.

Then, the conversation shifted to work-related topics, yet the questions lingered.

Why does he appear more excited about my presence this time? You questioned yourself.

The next day, the sharp winter frost made you shudder, and the frozen ground, now draped in a white cloak, rushed the coolness into your rose cheeks, leaving you with a soft blush of pink color on your skin.

However, soon you entered the workplace, you were embraced by the warm atmosphere of everyone gathered together, and all the cold bones in your body melted. The lights and laughter were buzzing with excitement for the approaching party.

As you approached your office, everybody greeted you with infectious smiles that made your heart skip a beat. When you arrived at your desk, your eyes were caught up by a small, carefully packaged gift placed in front of your computer. You couldn't stop yourself from being curious.

“I hope you wear these at the party tonight”

-Your secret Santa

The corners of your mouth curled in a smile. It was a nice gesture, and you couldn't help but appreciate the time and effort that went into selecting such an appropriate and beautiful gift for you.

You caught yourself stealing glances at everyone throughout the day, wondering who may be your secret Santa. All you wanted was for it to be Joel.

Amid your thoughts, one of your colleagues, Lisa, burst into your office with an animated expression. "Hey there! So, who's your secret Santa? spill the beans!"

Lisa's enthusiasm made you chuckle, a combination of enjoyment and a little embarrassment. "Well, Lisa, it's a secret. That is the entire purpose of Secret Santa."

"Hey, what's all this excitement about?" Joel inquired; his tone lighthearted as he stepped further into the room.

Lisa, unable to contain her curiosity, smiled at him. "We're attempting to determine who this lady's Secret Santa is!" "Do you have any ideas?"

Joel pretended to be innocent for a minute, scratching his chin as if deep in contemplation. "Hmm, let me think about it." Isn't it a real mystery?"

You flashed him a playful gaze, thinking he was hiding something.

"Oh, Joel, come on. You can't keep us waiting forever." Joel's face softened into a discrete giggle as Lisa demanded. "All right, okay. I might know something."

Lisa's eyes expanded with excitement. "Of course, you're in charge!

You lifted an eyebrow, meeting Joel's gaze. "How do you know this?"Spill it!"

Joel leaned in, his voice low, as if passing on an exclusive secret to you. "Well, I heard your Secret Santa got you something just perfect." Something that will make you happy."

You lifted an eyebrow, meeting Joel's gaze. "And how do you know that?"

He laughed. "Let's just say I have my sources"

Lisa giggled, fascinated with the enigma "So, do you have any guesses, Joel?"

Joel pretended to think for a bit, then smirked and pointed at himself. " We'll find out at the party, I'm sure." The secret will stay till then. That's our tradition"

Just as Joel was going to say something else, Tess's voice echoed from a distance, desperately calling out for Joel. Tess and Joel exchanged a few words before Joel excused himself to join her, leaving Lisa and you behind.

Once Tess and Joel were out of earshot, Lisa turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, those two would make such a hot couple, don't you think?"

Your heart sank a little at the thought, and you managed a weak smile, trying to brush off the sudden wave of emotions. "Yeah, they do seem to get along well."

It was true though, starting by Tess being Joel's business parter to her being gorgeous and closer in age to Joel, they had always gotten along. They had the same kind of fancy life, they had always traveled together everywhere and shared time beyond office hours. They were just made for each other, but that didn't mean it hurt you less.

As the workday came to an end, you and Lisa couldn't get your minds off the upcoming Christmas party. The light interaction with Joel added an extra element of enticement, and the mystery surrounding your Secret Santa kept the optimistic mood intact.

When noon arrived, you and Lisa exchanged stressed glances before heading home to prepare for the evening's festivities. The excitement swelled within you as you went out into the cool winter air, and you couldn't help but wonder what surprises the night wold unfold.

So, once you get home, you carefully pick an ideal dress for the occasion. The dress you chose was a deep emerald green with delicate sparkles that would capture the light of the night. It moved with flow, reflecting the essence of the season. You paired it with the silver earrings your Secret Santa had given to you to wear tonight.

Later that evening, as you approached the building, the bright lights and festive decorations revealed the start of a beautiful night ahead. The sweet smell of festive treats filled the air, and cheerful chattering boomed around the venue.

You were greeted by the warm glow of fairy lights and the enthusiastic energy of your coworkers as you entered the party. The area had been transformed into a winter wonderland, with the season's magic filling every corner.

Joel, dressed in a traditional black suit, stood near the entrance, smiling as he welcomed everyone. A small connection lingered when your eyes met his, in a timid exchange of smiles between the both of you, anticipating the red flush of your cheeks. 

Once inside the party, the atmosphere was electrifying. The sparkling bulbs, giggles, and music generated a happy atmosphere. Coworkers chatted while exchanging anecdotes and enjoying the festivities.

As the Secret Santa reveal arrived, you found yourself scanning the room for a glimpse of Joel. The mystery of the gift, as well as his fun demeanor, had piqued your curiosity.

Joel subsequently joined the guests, arm in arm with Tess, your heart tugged at the sight, however, his eyes met yours, and he smiled at you, timidly. 

You didn't mirror his expression, instead, you focused on what was happening in front of you instead, at the moment of Secret Santa reveals.

The room buzzed with anticipation as each person shared and received their gifts. You couldn't help but appreciate the effort and consideration that went into choosing each present, smiling at the thought of it.

When it was finally Joel's turn, everyone was expectant. Since he was the boss, all the employees wanted to know who was the lucky person receiving the gift of the head of the company.

He stood in the middle of the room, with a beautiful wrapped box. The anticipation in the room grew as you, along with everyone else, awaited the revelation.

Then, he walked toward you, handing over the carefully wrapped box. The entire room seemed to stop breathing, and all eyes were on you and Joel.

The room seemed to fade into background noise, and all focus was on this exchange between you and your boss.

You could feel the strong beating of your heart in your chest, leaving a way for blood to rush all over your cheeks.

"Looks like I got the honor of being your Secret Santa," Joel replied, his eyes twinkling.

You smiled at him, receiving the gift in your hands. A delicate friction between your hands sent shivers down all over your spine.

As you unwrapped the gift, you discovered a charming necklace, a delicate pendant that caught the light of the room on it.

Joel's gaze was drawn to yours, and a real smile flickered across his lips. It had a delicate beauty to it; the unspoken connection you and Joel shared grew in that right away, but only both of you could feel it.

Before you could utter a thank you, everyone in the place cheered, and Tess came, leaning over to Joel and whispered something into his ear as applauses kept feeling the room. He nodded in return, his gaze fixed on you, walking away with Tess. and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at that.

But the party had to continue, and you found yourself engaged in conversations with your colleagues, even when your thoughts kept d drifting back to Joel and his gift.

As the night progressed, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Tess, wearing a mischievous grin. "Joel's Secret Santa choice was spot on, don't you think?"

You smiled a hint of blush on your cheeks. "Yeah, it was a really beautiful gift."

Tess leaned in a little closer. "He put a lot of thought into it. You can tell. It matches your earrings"

Tess pointed out the matching elegance of the pendant with your earrings, and your smile widened. The subtle coordination hadn't gone unnoticed by you, and it offered a further level of appreciation for Joel's considerate choice.

Tess laughed, her suspicious grin persistent on her face. "You should know that Joel isn't just good with gifts." He's been talking a lot about you."

You couldn't help but raise your brows in surprise, and you couldn't help but feel a curiosity"Really? "What exactly has he been saying?"

Tess shrugged, her humorous look still on her face. "Oh, he just thinks you're pretty amazing at your job and stuff. However, you did not hear it from me."

After that, Tess went away, leaving you with an increased feeling of affection and awe.

Later that night, while you were drowned in a sea of joyful beams and festive ornaments, you felt a soft tap on your shoulder. When you turned around, you saw Joel standing there with a real grin on his face.

"Hey there," he greeted, his eyes reflecting warmth. "I hope you're having a good time."

You returned his smile, the connection between you palpable. "Yeah, it's been great. Your gift was really thoughtful. Thank you."

Joel's eyes held a glint of appreciation. "I'm glad you liked it"

"It was really beautiful" you whispered, touched by the sincerity of his gesture.

"I just thought it would complete the set," he replied, his eyes holding yours.

Joel lifted his hand, and his fingers delicately tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a soft heat spread through you. The air around you seemed charged with a different energy, and the festive lights of the party contributed to a magical moment.

"Thank you, Joel," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The connection between you felt more profound with each passing second.

Joel's gaze lingered on yours, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. The world around you faded away.

“You look breathtaking tonight”

A warmth spread across your cheeks at Joel's compliment, his words adding a touch of sincerity to the already enchanting evening. The festive lights and laughter seemed to dim in comparison to the connection you shared in that moment.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a genuine appreciation for his kind words. "You don't look too bad yourself in that suit," you added playfully, a smile dancing on your lips.

Joel chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "Well, I figured a classic suit is always a safe bet for these occasions."

You nodded, the emerald green dress and silver earrings reflecting the joy in your eyes.

Joel's gaze held a twinkle in his eye. "Having a good time?"

"Absolutely. And thank you again for the lovely earrings. They're perfect."

Joel's smile widened, and he glanced around the festive atmosphere. "I'm glad you like them. It's the least I could do for my favorite employee."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, you felt the weight of their meaning.

Joel, with a genuine smile, continued the conversation. "So, any exciting plans for the holidays? Family gatherings, maybe?"

You chuckled, a hint of wistfulness in your response. "Not really. It's just going to be a quiet Christmas at home. I've gotten used to spending it alone."

Joel's genuine smile faltered slightly, replaced by a look of surprise and concern. "You're kidding, right?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine disbelief.

You shrugged, trying to downplay the weight of your words. "No, it's true. Christmas has never been a big celebration for me. I'm used to spending it alone, just enjoying the quiet."

His eyes searched yours for a moment, a mix of understanding and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "Well, that's not right. Christmas is a time for joy and togetherness. No one should be alone during the holidays."

You appreciated his concern, but a part of you felt a little embarrassed for sharing such a personal detail. "It's okay, really. I find my own ways to make it special. Movies, maybe a good book, you know."

Joel nodded, and his smile softened, and he excused himself to make a call, leaving you momentarily alone in the midst of the festive celebration. As you stood there, a sense of vulnerability washed over you, wondering if you had shared too much with him.

As you stood there, waiting for Joel to return after what felt like an eternity, a sense of disappointment settled in. The celebration continued around you, but a subtle shift in the atmosphere made everything feel a bit less magical for you.

After about ten minutes of waiting, you couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that maybe you had shared too much, that Joel's concern had led to a sudden change in the dynamics of the evening. He may have felt pity for you and you debated whether to stay or make your way out, with a mix of vulnerability and disappointment.

With a heavy sigh, you decided to leave the party. The twinkling lights and cheerful laughter seemed to lose their polish as you made your way through the crowd toward the exit. Each step felt like a retreat, not just from the party but from the unexpected connection that had briefly sparked between you and Joel. But it seemed to be just in your imagination.

Once in the elevator, you decided to call it a night and head home, where the glow of your Christmas tree awaited.

Meanwhile, Joel couldn't get you to leave the party without saying goodbye. He felt a magnetic draw toward you, a want to be near you. He followed you outside, trusting his intuition, only to find you standing alone, staring at the city lights from the lobby. 

Joel paused for a beat before approaching you. As you glanced into the distance, looking deep in focus, the city lights shed a lovely glow on your face and he felt his heart squeeze at the sight.

"Hey," Joel said gently, breaking the silence. You turned to look at him, surprise and something he couldn't quite decipher in your eyes.

"I noticed you left without saying goodbye," he continued, his voice filled with a warmth that mirrored the glow of the soft light of the city.

You offered a small smile, "I thought you were busy. Didn't want to interrupt."

Joel shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "You're never an interruption, trust me. I was looking for you. Didn't want you to leave without a proper goodbye."

A quiet connection flowed between you two as you stood there. As Joel took a step closer, the city seemed to fade into the background, the space between you narrowing.

Joel's eyes moved up, and a soft laugh escaped him, as if on instinct. You followed his gaze to realize you were standing just beneath a mistletoe, hanging in the door of the lobby. 

He chuckled a genuine and welcoming sound that echoed through silence. "Well, would you look at that," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh along with him, the suddenness of the situation providing a magical touch to the night. The noise and bustle of the city appeared to vanish, leaving only the two of you standing beneath the mistletoe.

Joel took a deep breath, a vulnerability in his expression. "I've been trying to deny it, even to myself, but I can't ignore it any longer, you know?”

You listened closely, the air thick with anticipation. The city lights built a protective shell around you two, pointing out your fragility.

"I think I'm… kinda in love with you," Joel admitted, his voice echoing with devotion.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand motionless. The revelation sat in the breeze, and you could feel the importance of his words. It was a confession that went beyond the cheerful mood of the night. It was a confession that contained a time of words held back. 

Joel's eyes were filled with both optimism and anxiety. "Would it be too forward if I asked to kiss you under the mistletoe?"

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied, "No, Joel, it wouldn't be too forward."

Joel leaned in, his eyes stuck on yours, under the soft glow of the city lights and the mute witnesses of the mistletoe, your lips touched in a tender kiss, and the world around you distorted.

Joel stared at you with pleasure and joy as you pulled away. "I've been wanting to do that for a while."

You laughed, your heart humming with new sensations. "The feeling is mutual."

"So, about tomorrow," Joel began, his voice soft, holding your face in his hands. "There's no way you're spending Christmas alone."

You looked at him, surprise in your eyes. "Joel, I appreciate it, but you don't have to—"

He gently interrupted, "No, I want to. Christmas is a time for love and joy, and I can't bear the thought of you spending it alone. If you're willing, I'd love for you to join me and my family for Christmas dinner."

The lights continued to twinkle around as Joel's gaze lingered on yours. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, and he leaned in once more. The soft press of his lips against yours sent a thrill through you, a continuation of the connection that had deepened under the mistletoe.

As he kissed you, his hands traveled from your face to your hands, interlocking your fingers. When he pulled away, a playful smile danced on Joel's lips. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, his hand still holding yours "I have better plans to spend the night."

[darkserenity24]

Haunted

GIF by afreydycat

Dark! Loki x Reader/Thor x Reader

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘖𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙢𝙖𝙟𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙣-𝙘𝙤𝙣/𝙙𝙪𝙗-𝙘𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙚𝙩𝙘.

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘎𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Chapter 1

A nasty storm covered the beautiful countryside for the third night in a row.

You cursed silently as you stared out of the large window in the hallway, barely able to see the mess of wind-whipped trees, stray branches, and flailing leaves violently swirling about through the thick waterfall covering the window. You had no idea how you were going to get home in this weather, as it had gotten worse as the days passed. 

You overheard on the bus this morning that there was a warning for a possible hurricane in the county area where the Odinsons lived, but you paid it no mind, not wanting to have an excuse to miss a day of work. So you took the hour ride to your place of employment and were met with the flood of heavy rain as soon as you stepped off the bus.

Anyone else would have thrown in the towel and stayed within the safe walls of the manor to avoid the treacherous weather outside, but not you. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome here. Sure, one half of the Odinson's were kind but the other half you were a bit wary of. 

You didn’t want any of them thinking you were trying to freeload off of them just because of some bad weather. After all, you were just one of the many housekeepers that worked here. Your only business in a place like this was to keep it as pristine as possible. Nothing else. 

You flinched slightly at the sudden vibrations coming from the pocket of your uniform, tearing your eyes away from the darkness outside of the window and pulling your phone out. You sighed, being reminded of the other reason you couldn’t stay here tonight. Your baby sister.

“Hey Buttercup, what’s up?” you answered.

“Do you see the weather outside? It’s insane. When are you coming home?” The concerned voice of your younger sister rang out from your outdated smartphone. 

You sighed heavily, moving away from the window and down the dimly lit hall. “I don’t know, sweetie. It may take me a few hours longer to get home tonight, but I promise I’m still coming.”

You entered Odin’s study. It was currently empty and was a good place for you to take quick, discreet phone calls. The fireplace was still lit, embers gently crackling as the flames burned and you appreciated the warmth that was radiating throughout the room.

“Oh, okay. I can wait up for you. Just, um, be careful, please. They’re saying this is the worst storm we’ve had in years.”

“Yeah, they always say that. Dramatic beings, these weather people are. But don’t worry, I’ll get home soon enough. Maybe we can watch half of a movie before bed? I know that tends to relax you whenever you get nervous.”

She’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “Y-yeah that would. I’d like that.”

“Okay, then it’s settled. See ya soon, Buttercup. Oh- and make sure you eat dinner soon since I may be late. I think we still have leftovers in the fridge.”

You could practically envision her rolling her eyes at your mothering. “Yeah, I will. See you soon, Blossom.” 

“Love you.”

You end the call quickly, grabbing the nearby iron poker and using it to spread out the flaming logs in the fireplace. You only had fifteen minutes left until your shift was over and needed to finish checking the rooms on the second floor before making your much dreaded trek to the nearest bus stop which was a ten minute walk from the manor. You shivered, partially at the lack of warmth that covered the room after the flames were put out, and partially at the thought of how soaked you were going to be once you arrived at the semi-sheltered bus stop.

“Are you truly planning on leaving in this disastrous climate?” the cool voice of an unseen person inquired.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, snapping your head over to the doorway where a tall shadow lingered. 

Immediately recognizing the shape of the imposing figure and their refined regal voice, you let out a breath of partial relief, grip tightening on the fire poker you still held in your hand.

“Oh, hi, Loki. You, uh, startled me for a moment there.” You send him a pained smile, doubting he could see it through the darkness that covered the room.

He only tilted his head, his dark curly locks falling to the side with the movement. He was still crowding the middle of the doorway, hands in his pockets as he simply… observed you.

He did this quite often, and it was always just as chilling each time. He observed you more than he spoke to you, so when he did, it always put you in a state of momentary shock. Out of all of the Odinsons in the manor, he was the most quiet, slinking around the house as if it was his job to watch over everyone. As if it was his job to watch over you. Sometimes he’d simply observe you, watching as you dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floors, or cleaned the laundry. He seemed curious for the most part, but other times you’d catch a glint of something else in his gaze. Something a bit less innocent and more nefarious. Darker. 

At this moment, you couldn’t tell how he looked, only witnessing the shape of his familiar silhouette.

You gulped. Setting the poker back into its place before walking over to the lamp on a nearby desk, switching it on with a click. Warm light flooded the room and you were glad to finally be able to fully see the youngest Odinson of the manor. It was strange to think of him as the youngest, as he was still several years older than you.

Blue-green eyes were still focused on your figure as if he was waiting for you to say something.

You self-consciously smoothed down the errant curls at the back of your neck that had escaped your bun. “I was just finishing up here, as um, you can see. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

He raised a dark brow at you. “You still have yet to answer my question.”

You frowned, rummaging through your tired brain to figure out what he was talking about before your mouth formed into an ‘o’. “Oh yeah, s-sorry, I'm kind of tired so my mind’s all over the place. Yes, I’m going to leave in a few more minutes, just finishing up here.”

“Why?”

His question caught you off guard. What’s it to him? 

You considered yourself a professional, so you often made it a point to answer your superiors, regardless of how strange their questions were. 

“Well, I need to get home. Mr. Odinson said I could leave an hour early because of the storm.”

Loki blinked, his brow twitching slightly as he glanced away before meeting your hesitant gaze again. “That’s absurd. We have plenty of space as you obviously are also aware. You can stay for the night and retreat in the morning once the weather calms.”

Your mouth opened as you considered his words. Out of the five years you worked in the Odinson home, you had never stayed the night once. It was not something you were comfortable with doing because it was not your home. You had your own home- well, apartment near the city. It was small, and not nearly as regal as the Odinson manor but it was yours. Yours and your sisters.

You spewed out an excuse. “Um, that’s very kind of you but I think I’ll be okay. I need to get home to my sister. She’s waiting for me.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with waiting for you to arrive tomorrow.”

“No, sir, I'm afraid she needs me.” You bit your lip, not missing the way his analytical eyes lowered to the nervous habit you had. “I’m all she has, and her only caretaker.”

You knew you were giving him way too much unnecessary information about your personal life but you needed to make him understand that you weren’t staying the night here. His offer was kind but what you said was true. Zuri needed you.

The young Odinson looked as if he wanted to protest, staring at you as if you were defying his orders before his gaze dropped to the floor as he sighed.

“Alright, if you must,” He looked back up at you and you felt some relief at his words, but not for long. 

“However, I’m taking you home myself.”

You tried your best, you really did. But if Loki wasn’t a lot of things, he sure was a stubborn man.

He ignored your carefully crafted words of decline at his offer- no his declaration to take you home. Nevertheless, you found yourself in the passenger's seat of his sleek back car that probably cost triple the amount or more than your yearly salary, holding on tightly to your bag as he maneuvered you both through the nearly flooded streets. 

His car was way faster than a bus, and you knew you’d be home in no time. He didn’t say a word on the car ride home, only keeping his eyes on the road before him.

You glanced over at him from time to time, seeing the dark shadows of the rainy night pass over his face. Loki was absolutely stunning. Along with his older brother Thor, he was a beautiful specimen of a man, and from what you know of him, he was also ridiculously intelligent. It was completely unfair. He had the money, the brains, and the looks. All of the Odinsons did, but unlike the rest of them, Loki was the only one who intimated you. 

He was not as kind as Thor or Frigga, he was more like his father, Odin. Odin had a similar quiet yet unnerving demeanor as his youngest son, but he still never made you feel the way Loki did. The man was not known as being very kind to the staff at the manor, or really anyone else. He seemed to barely tolerate his family, throwing disinterested remarks to Frigga from time to time while insulting his brother and ignoring his father. You’ve even witnessed him reprimanding another housekeeper for entering his room without his permission. Luckily enough, he seemed to save his words when it came to you, preferring to watch you like a hawk instead which was just as unsettling.

Loki reminded you of the treacherous and highly dangerous weather you were both driving through. He was like a silent storm, just lurking around the manner, sneaking up on you and looking as if he was going to reign down terror on you at any moment. But he never did.

You were just a housekeeper, no one important, yet here he was taking you to your hole-in-the-wall apartment building that was miles away from his family’s secluded home in the countryside. You didn’t know why he was doing this, but you were also too afraid to ask, not wanting to offend him in some way. You were fine to just assume that he wanted you to get home in one piece so you didn’t show up for your next shift at his home sick as a dog because you were stubborn enough to try to take the bus home in this weather. That made the most sense to you, and you liked things that made sense.

When Loki arrived at your apartment building, you tried your best not to cringe in embarrassment as he observed the surroundings. The neighborhood you lived in wasn’t terrible, but it was not as clean and fancy as the one he lived in.

You pulled the handle to the door, attempting to open it, yet it didn’t budge. You slowly peeked over towards the man in the driver's seat, not surprised that he was already watching you.

He ran his eyes over your tense frame before turning his head towards the front window of the car. 

“I expect this storm will not prevent you from tending your duties at the manor tomorrow, correct?”

You blinked at his question before nodding. “N-no sir, of course not. I will be there for my shift in the afternoon as soon as the weather clears up.”

He nods stiffly, squinting his eyes as if something displeased him. You thought about your answer, trying to figure out if you said something wrong.

“Very well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Odinson.”

Though he looked reluctant, he unlocked the door and you exited the car, heading into your apartment building and up the three flights of stairs.

When you got inside, you headed into the bedroom, seeing Zuri sound asleep in her bed. Your shoulders dropped in relief to see she was okay. You knew she got nervous when she had to be alone for a while. 

Quietly you walked over to the small window, peeking between the blinds. You were surprised to see the familiar black car still idling by the curb in front of the building. 

It was another five minutes before it left, speeding down the dimly lit and water-flooded streets.

Story Masterlist

DarkSerenity's Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ;)

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 13

(co-written with @schemmentis): Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Summary: You and your wife spend some much needed time together, only for it to go up in flames.

WC: ~2.5k

When Melissa comes in, she finds you with both arms wrapped around your girls, them curled into your sides. She sees the tracks of the tears that had been pouring down your face earlier in the night, the pout of your bottom lip, the way that even in sleep and holding your girls you seem to be in distress. 

Melissa quietly gets ready for bed before slipping in between the sheets. Rosie gladly curls up to her when she gently shifts her to her chest so she can shuffle closer to you. The hand not resting on a small back reaches, the backs of her fingers lightly caressing your cheek, imagining she can wipe the now dried tears away from you. “Ti amo, vita mia.” She whispers in the dark of the bedroom.

You blink awake in the dark a few hours later. Your girls are still softly sleeping. You roll over and nearly start crying again when you see your wife asleep and holding Rosie. You knew she would be home, eventually. Still, seeing her is a relief. You curl in closer to her as you close your eyes again. Maybe you can get an hour or two of actual good sleep now that Melissa is here. Before your girls try to pry your eyes open again.

You somehow manage to wake before either of your girls, or your wife. You convince half awake twins to settle for kissing Melissa's cheek and whispering good morning before you get up and get them breakfast. You don't even have to remind them to be quiet when they go back to do the same to say goodbye before taking them to school. You know they miss her, even after only one late night. You do too. But you'd hate to take any more rest from her.

You hug the girls goodbye at school and are walking across the lot back to your car when your phone rings. Your brow furrows. Your phone hasn't rung since you were taken off the salon. You tug it from your pocket, your confusion growing at Tony's name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Could you come down to the salon? It's kind of important.”

“Isn't all that your job now, Tony?” You all but sneer. 

“Look, we gotta talk about some of the financials. So I need you to help me sort it out, alright?”

You roll your eyes. “I'll be there in a minute.” You reluctantly agree, hanging up before Tony can say anything else.

Despite you not being a part of the operation anymore, you still step through the back entrance of the salon. Tony wants to call you in? Then you're going to come in at the business end of it. 

You stop halfway down the hall at the door of the back office being open. When it was you; you never left it open and unlocked. Too many important things were kept there. You glance inside, raising an eyebrow at the near emptiness of the office. The file cabinets are gone, and so is everything from on top of the desk. The room is empty aside from that desk in the middle of it.

“There you are.” Tony says as he turns down the hall. “C’mon.” He tugs you lightly by the arm into the office, shutting the door behind him. 

“Quite the rearrangement, Tony.” You comment, putting your hands in your pockets as you pace around the desk. “What's goin’ on, huh? What'd you suddenly need me for?”

“The ledger.” Tony says, cutting to the chase. “We need the ledger for the other business.”

You look at Tony, head turning to the side. We? You think to yourself as you study him. Suddenly it's we. And you're not a part of that we. “No.” You finally say.

“What?? What d’you mean no? Look, Y/N, my ass is on the line now, and we need that ledger that you have to have.”

“Oh, I have it.” You say. For all intents and purposes, you do. Only you and your wife know where it is. “I just ain't giving it to you. Tell whoever you're answerin’ to that if they want it; they better talk to me directly. ‘Cause I ain't trustin’ it with you, Tony. I wouldn't have trusted you to balance the cash register drawer.”

He goes to argue, but your phone ringing interrupts him. You roll your eyes at him as you leave, answering it.

“Hello?”

“Babe, where are you? Why didn’t you wake me?” your wife nearly shouts into the phone. “I just woke up!”

“Honey, you needed the sleep,” you tell her softly.

“What I needed was to see my girls off to school and to check on my wife before heading into work- on time!”

Her shouting at you makes you tear up all over again as you slam the door to your car. “I’m sorry. I’ll come pick you-”

“Don’t even bother,” Melissa huffs. “I’ll walk the few blocks.” And then she hangs up on you. 

Your heart nearly shatters in your chest, and your eyes instantly well up with more tears that threaten to spill over. “Mel,” you whisper out softly.

You do still drive the way to her work, and when you get there, she’s just storming in. It’s clear she’s on a warpath as she slams the back door and throws her bag on the chair in the office. You step in a few seconds later, sending a sympathetic look at Valentina; she looks horrified.

“Mel,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around her waist, trying to stop her anger. She just shrugs you off. “Mel, please.” Your voice breaks as your heart actually does shatter this time. 

She turns around at the hiccup in your voice, and there’s a fire in her eyes that dies out as soon as she sees the redness in your eyes and the tears that are there.

“Mi amore,” she whispers as she pulls you in.

“Mel, I- I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry I didn’t wake you this-”

“Hey,” she hushes you gently. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I got so frustrated and yelled. I just… this all has me stressed to the max, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

You cry into her shoulder, and your wife is quick to kick the door shut with her heeled foot. You cry just as harshly and abrasively as you did last night, although this time you don’t have to stifle the sobs that come bubbling out of your body.

“Honey,” she whispers as she rubs your back soothingly. “Baby.”

“I- I don’t even know,” you continue to shake with the sobs that rack through your body. 

It takes you much longer to calm down than she hopes. But eventually she does, and after checking her progress on the ledger, she ushers you out of the building. She shouts to Valentina that she’s in charge, at least for this morning, and if someone comes in with an envelope full of money to just leave it on her desk.

“Melissa, you can stay,” you whisper as you wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “I’ll be- I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Melissa answers, leading you to the passenger side of your car. “If anything big goes on; Val will call me. Right now, you’re more important, amore.” She squeezes the hand she’s been leading you out by lightly, her head nodding for you to get in.

It’s only once you do that she closes the door for you before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat. She reclaims your hand once you’ve buckled your seatbelt, kissing your knuckles as she pulls out of the parking lot.

“You really could have stayed.” You say quietly.

She squeezes your hand again, glancing away from the road just long enough to raise an eyebrow at you before looking back. “I’m not gonna leave ya when you’re clearly not okay. And don’t go saying you’re fine. I know when you’re lyin’, remember?”

You sigh, leaning back in your seat for the short drive back to your home. “I’m just…over emotional with all the changes. It’ll pass. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine, that much is true.” Mel agrees though she keeps a hold of your hand held in her lap. “But I’m not going to just expect this to pass. It’s been a lot lately, yeah. But it ain’t like you to just…” She sighs, without finishing. “You’re gonna tell me ya weren’t this way last night, too? Before I got home?” She asks softly instead, her thumb gently passing repeatedly over your knuckles.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Melissa nods, with a half grin on her face. “Which just means yes.” She says. “This is more than just everythin’ goin’ on- even if it has been a lot lately. For right now, stop tryin’ to fight me on stayin’ home, and consider talkin’ to me and lettin’ me help instead, huh?”

You don’t say anything else on the rest of the short drive. Instead, you consider everything over in your mind. As if you haven’t already a hundred times. By the time you’re following Melissa into the house, you could have another anxiety breakdown without much push.

You gladly slip into her side on your couch, her arms that had been held out in invitation instantly wrap around you. You sigh, though you don’t begin crying again. You return your wife’s embrace equally, clinging to her as much as you’re curling up to her side.

“Talk to me, tesoro.” Melissa repeats quietly, kissing your temple as she holds you close.

“Did Sammy tell you I almost turned myself in the other week? When they had you in the station?” You can guess her answer before she gives it based on how you feel her briefly freeze against you.

“No.” Melissa finally answers, one of her hands gently rubbing across your shoulders. “He didn’t. Probably ‘cause he already knew I was seconds away from tearin’ somebody to shreds that day. You really almost did?”

You nod, sniffling slightly. “I just…didn’t know what else to do. All this pressure on us and then gettin’ you so involved….them tearing apart Twelve Tables… God, that was as bad as watching somebody beat you, Mel. It’s like the same thing. You worked so hard for it and they ruined it because of me and—”

“Shh,” Melissa murmurs, tugging you into her lap to hug you even tighter. “None of it’s because of you, amore. We talked about all this plenty before we got serious, didn’t we? Then all over again before we got married? Don’t go actin’ like I’m some innocent little housewife over here, huh? You treat me better than that. You treat me like your partner, your equal, in everything. Includin’ all this. I knew what we were gettin’ into when we started, baby. We both did.”

“I know,” you mumble into her side. “But now... it’s so much more than just us and the business. We have your restaurant now. We have the girls now. The only thing that stopped me from turning myself in was the girls. I- I couldn't turn myself in and miss everything for the next ten to twenty years... the teen years, graduating and sending them off to college, high school boy or girl drama... potential grandbabies.”

“If either of them has a baby before they’re twenty, we are going to have problems,” Melissa chuckles lightly.

“Well... if I wasn’t there, you know that data shows kids with one absent parent statistically are more likely to fall into...”

“Not our girls,” your wife states firmly. “If anything happens to one of us, I have full faith that those girls will stay on the right track because of whoever is left with them.”

You just sigh into her, inhaling the scent of the perfume that she has on. You take a few shaky breaths, tears threatening to spill over again. They don’t though. You have your anchor right now.

“What do you need right now?” your wife asks you gently, once your breathing becomes more regulated. “Comfort, a solution, or to just... sit in the shit together?”

You shrug against her, and she only kisses your head as a response. You end up falling asleep, and when you wake up, Melissa is no longer next to you. In fact, the only reason you wake up is because your two tiny terrors are jumping on the couch next to you despite your wife’s quiet protests.

“Girls, let Mam sleep,” you can hear the redhead sigh as she drops their backpacks at the door.

“We are!” Rosie protests. “We just want to cuddle her and make her feel better after last night!”

Your response is to pull them both close to your chest with a soft sigh as you keep your eyes closed. “Mam needs some Cat and Rosie snuggles.”

“‘See?” Cat tells your wife pointedly. “Mam needs us!”

You hear Melissa’s low chuckle before she exhales quietly. “Is Mam going to be okay if I head to the restaurant?”

“Can we come with you?!” Rosie asks. “I miss Auntie Val.”

“Stay with Mam,” you tell them gently as you pull them further into your lap. “Cuddles, some pizza, and-”

“I only like the Pizza that Vince makes at the restaurant,” Cat tells you.

“We can order takeout from Mommy’s restaurant then,” you try to placate.

“Why can’t we just go there?” Rosie whines out as she tries to break free from your hold. For such a small little thing, she sure is strong. She ends up getting out of your restraint, and she’s quick to put her shoes on and grab her backpack before taking hold of Melissa’s hand.

“Girls, why don’t you... go grab some coloring sheets and crayons from the basement?” your wife suggests. They run off.

“They are not going to the restaurant now that it’s the front,” you tell her.

When you expect your wife to agree, she merely shrugs. “There are usually other kids with their parents, and the guys drop off in the back.”

“Melissa!” you say sternly. “My girls are not going to a front!”

“They are our girls,” she tells you firmly. “And I think... I think that if they’re at the restaurant, and the Feds show up, having the girls there will help fool them into thinking we aren’t up to anything.”

“Melissa.”

She just shrugs. “You want them off our backs? I think this is the best way to get them off our backs.”

You go to protest her idea again, but the girls come running back with new boxes of crayons and a multitude of coloring sheets in their hands.

“Come on, sweet things,” she says softly. “We can all go to Twelve Tables.” The redhead takes both of their hands, grabs their backpacks, and leads them out the door. You fume as you follow behind her. You can’t believe she would go against your wishes and make such a big decision on her own.

Tags: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[cumulo-stratus]

Hi!! Could you do a Spencer Reid x male reader where reader comes home upset about Strauss (or someone else at work) yelling at them about something so Spencer comforts reader as he breaks down? PLEASEEEEE

Home is with him[s.r]

Spencer comes home to find you struggling, and does his best to help

WARNINGS- angst, villainizes strauss, talks about being yelled at, crying

Spencer Reid x male!reader ][ hurt/comfort ][ masterlist!!

a/n- this was such a cute request!!! sry it took so long

1.65k

Your feet felt like lead blocks as you trudged up the too many stairs to Spencer's apartment.

The bag on your shoulder felt just as heavy as it weighed your shoulder down even more than your posture had already sagged. 

You felt like you didn't even have the mental energy to be annoyed when you couldn't get the key into the old jinky lock that was always hard to open.

But it felt particularly annoying today as you grimaced to yourself and flared your nostrils slightly while jimmying with the key

When the door finally jimmied itself open, it creaked with the age of the building through the empty corridor.

You were met with an equally empty apartment in front of you. 

Even though you knew he wasn’t there, there was some part of you deep down that still hoped to call out his name and hear a response from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

”spencerrr! i'm home! Are you in the bedroom?” you called out hopefully. The phrase was followed by a pang of disappointment when there was no response, just the quiet creaking of the old building settling. 

you had known that your boyfriend was on a case, and you knew that he rarely came home before 10 pm on cases. 

but a small part of you still hoped, maybe being the amazing genius of a boyfriend he is, he'd solved it in hours and flown back to take you right into his arms. 

you imagined Spencer encasing you in his embrace, the way he always does, and used it to give yourself the strength to put your things away. 

By the time your work bag and shoes had been left by the door along with your keys and your grimey work clothes had been shed there was a lump in your throat that you couldn't swallow down. 

You shoved the aforementioned work clothes at the bottom of your hamper, trying to push away the bad joojoo lingering on the pieces of cloth. 

It felt impossible to not keep recalling the harsh reprimanding and even harsher insults that Strauss had thrown at you. She had decided that today was the day to rip into you over something as simple as some paperwork. 

According to Strauss, she won't accept idiocracy or carelessness in her employees. Apparently, this ‘moronic’ mistake could've caused miscommunication, which could've caused a field agent to be injured or killed. 

her harsh words clawed at your thoughts as you leaned against the counter in the kitchen, lost in thought. 

when you finally forced yourself to make some dinner, you couldn't bring yourself to make an actual meal. So you opted instead to munch on a bag of trail mix. 

without the distraction of figuring out what to eat you felt the lump rise again in your throat, strauss’ words ringing in your thoughts.

the lump grew to a burning behind your eyes as you sunk down into the old leather couch that smelled like worn pages.

Spencer's whole apartment smells like old books, that was one of the things that you'd always loved about your boyfriend's apartment.

Usually the smell was a comfort, but today it only furthered to remind you of his absence. Everything reminded you of Spencer when he was gone. 

The apartment smelled like him, the kitchen had remnants of Spencer's rushed breakfast that you hadn't the will to clean. And of course every book littered on almost every surface.

You almost hoped the leather would open up and swallow you so you wouldn't have to think anymore. But when no matter how much you willed it to happen and it didn't, you instead opted for the tv. 

Friends almost immediately became static. And in this static you felt a warmth on your cheek. A tear. And then another one, and another. And another. 

Soon the floodgates were open and your lip wobbled. The only thing you could do was pull your knees up to your chest as you leaned to lay sideways with your head on the pillow, and hope that Spencer would come home soon.

Soon the mixing of the TV, the AC unit, and the dehumidifier all became one collective static noise to your ears. 

It felt like moments later when you blinked your eyes open from a sort of half sleep half trance. But then you realized what had woken you; the door unlocking and creaking open across the small mudroom area.

You could hear the faint sound of shoes sliding off, and a bag slumping on the floor as you tried your best to rub off the tear tracks and rub the redness from your eyes away as Spencer approached. 

When your boyfriend had arrived, the first thing he noticed as the door closed behind him was that most of the lights were turned off, and that friends was playing faintly on the tv. 

All this led Spencer to deduce that you had fallen asleep by the tv waiting for him. It was only 9 pm, but he assumed you'd had a long day at work. That was an understatement. 

As he rounded the couch, where he expected to find your sleeping frame, he instead found you, with eyes reddened from tears that had long since been shed. 

Spencer's face immediately twisted into a concerned frown, a knot between his brows forming as he took you in. 

You looked,, tired. Spencer could see the obvious rementants of tears on your reddened cheeks and in your tired, tired eyes. 

When you finally looked at Spencer, he cupped your face in his hand, using his thumb to softly brush away the tears. 

No words had been spoken yet, your lip only wobbled the tiniest bit. That was when Spencer finally spoke, “oh honey,”.

Spencer spoke so softly if he hadn't been inches away from you, you wouldn't have heard him. His voice was murmured and gentle.

The sound of Spencer's voice is what caused you to break. You're pretty sure your body was aware that it was finally safe, now that your boyfriend was here. With Spencer you were safe.

The wobbling lip turned to broken sob, and a new round of tears streaking your cheeks. Spencer could feel them hitting his fingers and wetting them. 

You needed to be held, and Spencer knew that. So he moved from standing in front of you, to sitting with you in his warm embrace finally.

With you in his arms, you could finally let out the tears comfortably. Their warmth wet Spencer's work shirt, the thin material becoming darker. 

You had immediately buried your face in his neck, allowing his scent to overtake you. He smelled like the worn pages of a book and coffee grounds. 

It filled your nostrils and made you breath in a deep sigh. Spencer had inadvertently helped to stop you from crying. 

He had that effect on you, bringing peace. “You wanna talk about it?” Spencer asked, again speaking with a murmured and ever so gentle tone. 

Spencer could feel you sigh into his neck, it was the only response you gave him. Spencer took this as you needed to talk about it, but refused to.

So he asked again- “darling you should at least tell me what happened- please?” Spencer spoke with the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

The only reason you could see the puppy eyes Spencer was so good at was that he had forced you (gently guided your head with his hands) to look at him. 

But he was right in doing it, as the look on his face made you cave. You just couldn't not- it was Spencer after all. 

Spencer noticed this shift almost immediately. His face softened more than it already had if that was even possible. 

“Come on love,”

The furrow between his brows was so tight with worry for his boyfriend you thought they might become one conjoined eyebrow. This thought made you let out a little chuckle through the tears. 

With a final sigh, you begin, “well Strauss yelled at me today in front of everyone over a filing error, she said that- that idiotic mistakes like that get agents killed in the field..” you trailed off, not wanting to continue the story as your voice had cracked. 

Spencer could tell there was more, but he didn't pry. He just went into helpful boyfriend mode and started rubbing your back gently, allowing you to rest your head back into the crook of his neck.

“My darling I'm sorry-” His voice had a slight gravel to it from how low and soft he spoke. 

You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he spoke, and the way the soft skin under his jaw moved in tandem. 

You tried to use this to distract yourself from the tears still making their way down your cheeks. It didn't work. 

Instead Spencer took your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Would you like some tea, I got a new one you might like at the shop the other day” Spencer said hopefully. 

You nodded pitifully, your shoulders still heavy. Spencer just pecked your temple as he stood up. 

Only minutes and the sound of a whistling tea kettle later Spencer came back with two mugs. They were a matching set that had Mr. on each, reminiscent of Mr. and Mrs. mugs. Penelope had gifted them as a half joking present a couple years ago.

He placed both on separate coasters on the worn coffee table before pulling you back into his lap. His lanky arms wrapped around you gently and brought you close to his chest. 

You relaxed back into him as he gently played with your hair. He spoke calm, soft, and reassuring words to you.

He also peppered small kisses against your hair and behind your ear and anywhere else he could find as you eventually fell asleep against him. 

The End

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[shady-tavern]

Missing Piece

@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!

Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!

*.*.*

For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange. 

Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.

The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.

"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked. 

Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.

Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.

But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.

Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.

"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.

"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"

Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."

The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.

Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.

"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.

Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.

"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open. 

She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."

As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.

Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries. 

The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.

She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.

"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."

The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.

*.*.*

The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house. 

Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.

Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.

"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."

The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.

Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.

It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.

As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.

Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.

Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.

She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.

It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.

There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.

"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."

He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.

Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.

"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.

It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."

"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.

"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.

He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."

She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.

He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.

That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.

She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.

She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.

Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.

The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.

"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."

"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."

His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.

The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.

As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.

It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.

The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.

She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.

An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.

On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.

So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.

It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.

No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.

"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.

The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.

"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."

He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.

He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.

"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.

She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.

The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."

She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.

The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized

"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.

Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.

The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.

Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed. 

The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.

The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.

"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.

"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"

"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"

Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.

"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"

"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."

She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.

"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."

"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.

She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.

"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."

He wasn't wrong.

When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake. 

The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.

Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.

She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.

He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.

"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.

He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"

She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.

Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.

It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."

"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."

The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.

He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well." 

He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."

She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.

"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.

She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."

He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"

"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."

"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."

She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.

"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.

He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.

When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.

The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage. 

She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.

No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.

Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.

She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.

Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.

They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them. 

The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.

They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.

Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.

How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.

Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.

"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.

"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.

Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.

That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.

They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.

"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."

Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."

"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."

The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.

"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.

"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."

Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.

She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.

She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.

Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing. 

Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.

And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden. 

And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.

"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"

"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."

She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?

She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.

He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.

Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.

"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."

He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.

"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."

He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.

"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."

*.*.*

It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway. 

They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.

Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.

The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.

"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."

She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.

"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"

He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.

With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.

The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.

"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.

"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."

He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.

It was time to get back what belonged to them.

She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.

Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.

A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.

That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out. 

He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward. 

The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.

The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."

"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.

A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people. 

For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.

It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.

"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.

Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.

The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.

The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.

Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.

Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.

His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.

"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.

Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.

"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"

And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.

She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs. 

And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.

"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.

They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.

"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."

He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.

Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.

Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.

*.*.*

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[tkwrites]

Our Heroes Meet - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Our Heroes Meet

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Beginning: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 

Warnings: None? First dates, first meetings, so many firsts. 

Summary: When Quinn and Sarah meet, they’re pulled into each other's lives in a way neither one expected. 

Word count: 4,300

Comments: This is the beginning snapshot of Quinn & Sarah. 

I posted this earlier, and took it down less than 4 hours after. I felt that the ending, while cute, wasn’t true to character. After re-working it, here it is again. 

It’s so cute and earnest and I just love it so much. 

Thank you so much for all the support and love for these stories. I really can’t say it enough. 

Our Heroes Meet

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

On a rare free afternoon with the prospect of the following day off as well, Quinn found himself wandering Stanley Park. He hadn’t really set out with the park in mind, but after being home for a few hours, playing an hour or so of Call of Duty with Jack and Luke before their pre-game naps, he needed to get out of the house. Long stretches at home alone didn’t suit him anymore after COVID, when he'd been contractually stuck inside anytime he wasn’t at the rink. It reminded him too much of those long, lonely days.

The Park was touristy, but he liked it. He liked the water, and all the trails, and there was always something new and interesting going on. 

It began to drizzle as he wandered. Within minutes, as it so often did in Vancouver, the rain picked up, pounding into the pavement in sheets. 

Cursing himself for not checking the weather before leaving his apartment, Quinn darted under the awning of the aquarium to keep from getting soaked to the skin. His first thought was to turn away and run back to his car. He didn’t need to be with big crowds of people, especially when everyone was rushing to get inside. On the other hand, he'd never been to the aquarium, and the thought of returning to his empty apartment made him squirm more than the thought of a crowd. 

So, he bought a ticket and wandered into the building, keeping his distance from others, hat pulled low so less people would recognize him. 

He was wandering the BC exhibit when he stumbled upon a pretty young woman speaking to a group of school aged children, explaining to them how octopus camouflage worked. He'd missed most of her talk, but she had several graphics attached to the tank. A little girl in the front was holding a plastic model of an octopus like it was the best gift she'd ever been given. 

The woman's dark hair was pulled up into a bouncy, wavy ponytail. Something glinted in her ears, but she wore no other jewelry. She had a curvy figure, highlighted by the jeans and t-shirt she wore. She looked put together, but not overly so. 

The thing that really made him pause was the light in her eyes when she talked. She was obviously passionate about her work and it was infectious to watch. She answered every child with the same thoughtfulness and enthusiasm. From deeper questions about how the changing environment was affecting marine life, to the little girl holding the model, who asked why octopus have eight arms. 

“You know, we haven’t really figured out why eight is the magic number for them, but they use all of them, so I guess they got to eight and decided they were done.” 

Quinn found himself chuckling while the kids giggled. 

The classes wandered away,  and she began cleaning up her display, putting models and diagrams into a bucket before easing the graphics off the tank glass.

Something pulled him to her as if he'd been hooked in the navel and reeled in. Maybe it was because Millsy had just been chirping him about being too quiet to get a girl. Maybe it was the longing he felt wandering the park alone. Maybe it was fate. Whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to talk himself out of it. 

Standing there like a fool, he watched her work for a few heartbeats too long. 

Quinn didn't like to talk to strangers if he could help it. It’s not that he was scared, necessarily, but he was quiet and often just didn't know how to break the ice. Talking to someone when he didn’t have a middle man to bridge that first interaction made him nervous.

“Can I ask you a question?” he finally said. Lame. Lame. Could he be any more fucking lame? 

“Hi there,”  she said with a bright, friendly smile that took him off guard with its forced cheerfulness. It was such a different look than she’d just been wearing that he found it unnerving that she could flip that quickly. “Where can I direct you?” 

“Oh, no,” Quinn gestured at the place he’d been standing, “I missed part of your talk,” he said, feeling his cheeks begin to blaze. “I wondered if you could tell me more about their camouflage?”

The light that had been in her face came rushing back, as if someone had flipped a switch. She met his eyes and smiled. Something twisted in his stomach. 

He was even a few inches taller than her. More boxes checked off his list.

“Sure, what would you like to know?”

Mostly, he wanted her to keep talking. Finally, his brain came up with something semi intelligent, “do they have all those colors in their skin and just bring them up to the surface when they want to?” 

“Sort of. Their skin is full of chromatophores, which are basically specialized cells that have an elastic sac that’s filled with one of a few pigments, and as they expand and contract the muscles around those cells, more or less pigment is visible. Octopus, and other cephalopods have a nerve attached to every one of those cells, so they can change almost at will. Some scientists are trying to understand if they even need to think about changing, or if it’s just an autonomic nerve response.” She stopped abruptly, “I’m sorry, that’s probably more information than you were looking for. ”

“No, it’s really interesting,” he assured. “How do you know all this? Are you just in charge of the octopus tank?”

“I'm getting my masters degree at  UBC in marine zoology. I do research with one of the octopus we have named Walter, so they ask me to do these talks while I’m here working on that.”

He laughed, “Walter? That's quite the name for a fish.”

“Right?” she agreed, resisting the urge to correct him that Walter was a cephalopod, not a fish. They were two very different categories of animals. “I didn't choose it, but it suits him. He's kind of a curmudgeonly old man sometimes.” 

His phone buzzed, reminding him it was nearly time to eat lunch. 

“Hey, I swear I don't usually do this,” he said, more for his own benefit as he silenced the vibration on his phone, “but do you want to grab some lunch?” 

She glanced at her watch and he felt his face flame as the reality of what he’d just said sunk in. He'd asked her to lunch? While she was working? How out of touch was he? Not everyone worked in the morning for a few hours and basically had the rest of the day free. 

“I have a break coming up at 1, but I'm giving another talk at 2:30, so we couldn't go very far,” she said apologetically, hoping it wouldn’t put him off. 

Quinn felt like he'd won the lottery. He just wanted to keep talking to her. It didn't matter how far they went. For all he cared, they could go to the aquarium cafeteria. “That’s fine.”

A relieved smile spread over her lips. 

Pulling out his phone, he checked the time. “So, I’ll meet you out front in twenty?” he suggested, gesturing vaguely to where he thought the front of the building was.

She nodded. 

As Sarah headed backstage, Rick, one of the aquarium staff, saddled up beside her, waggling his eyebrows, “he was cute.”

She went to scoff and wave him away, but found that she couldn’t. Her mystery man was cute. Lovely brown eyes, a few inches in height on her (which if she was being honest, wasn’t all that difficult), dark hair along with a dark shadow of a beard on his jaw, and a prominent, interesting nose that was somehow distinctive and at home on his face all at once. On top of that, he came up to her, obviously interested in what she did, and that in itself was incredibly attractive. 

He hadn’t even paused when she threw out her graduate degree, a kind of douche litmus test she’d devised to tell right away who would be too intimidated by her education and who would be cool with it. 

“I know,” she said, a little surprised by her own sincerity.

“Did he get your number?” 

“No.”

“Please tell me you got his. It’s the twenty-first century, girl. You don’t let a man like that pass you by.” 

“He invited me to lunch,” she said, feeling that overwhelming sincerity wash over her again. It was a bold move on his part, making his intentions known right away. She wasn't sure she'd ever been asked out so quickly or decisively. 

“Well, I guess that works,” Rick shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t the route he would have taken.

Twenty five minutes later, Sarah rushed to the front, dodging the local hall so she wouldn’t be pulled away to answer a question, which happened more often than she’d ever anticipated after taking this research position.

He was standing near the entrance, looking at his phone with a kind of studied practice. Like he was trying hard to seem absorbed in whatever he was looking at, but the set of his shoulders made him look like he was bracing himself.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, halting her progress, “I got stuck talking with my research supervisor.” 

He smiled, finally lifting his head, “It’s cool. Glad you didn’t stand me up though.” 

A relieved smile took over her face. “I’m Sarah by the way, I didn't get your name.” 

“Quinn,” he said, extending his hand. 

He’d forgotten to introduce himself. He'd been so caught up in keeping her talking that he forgot the most basic part of polite conversation. Internally, he rolled his eyes. 

A small spark raced up her arm when their hands touched with the formal shake. 

“So,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what else to do with them, “where do you wanna go?”

“Oh, I…” she paused, looking out to the park, “do you have a favorite place?” 

“I'm not down this way much, so I don't really know.”

“Do you like bao?” she asked. 

He just looked at her, so she continued, “they're like dumplings with different things inside. They're Asian. There's a great place just up the street I go to sometimes.”

“I've never had it, but sure?”

Leading the way, Sarah started out of the building in confident strides that spoke of someone who had little time to waste in getting from one point to another. The rain had let up to a light mist that would do little more than dew the grass. 

“So… are you from Vancouver?’ she asked, glancing over at him. He kept pace with her easily. 

“No, I'm kind of from all over, but mostly from Michigan.” 

“Oh, cool. I'm from Nevada.”

“That's a long way for school.”

“Well, it's a bit hard to study the ocean there,” she teased, “being landlocked and all.”

He laughed. “So, you're a student and you do research, what else do you do?”

“I honestly don't have a whole lot more time. Grad school is kind of a joke that way. I hang out with my roommates,” she added, feeling incredibly lame. “What about you? What do you do?”

He cleared his throat. This conversation always went one of two ways. “I play hockey.” 

“Like, for a job?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. 

“Yeah. For the Canucks.” He gestured around himself, acknowledging the city as a whole. 

She looked at him, and he held his breath, hoping his gut reaction wasn’t about to be proven wrong. 

"That must be a wild job.”

A sigh let go in Quinn's chest. “It is. I feel really lucky.”

“So you're what, 20?”

“I hope I look older than that!”

"Sorry," She laughed. "I'm so bad with age. Especially with dudes. The facial hair always throws me off, so I usually aim low.” she said, gesturing to his jaw.

He grinned at her and her heart did a pitter pattery little jig against her ribcage. 

“In any case,” she said, flipping her hands, “aren't all the guys in the NHL really young? Like, you have to be drafted before you're 20 or something?”

“21, technically,” he said, looking very impressed. “Do you follow hockey?”

“Not really, but my roommate is obsessed with the Canucks, so I've picked up a few things." 

Quinn hoped she was the good kind of obsessed. 

“So how old are you then?”

“24. You?” 

“Twenty-six.” 

The guys were going to give him so much shit when they found out he took out another older woman. 

He couldn’t help it. He liked older women. They were more likely to have their lives together in the way he did. It was easier to be himself - a little more serious and quiet than his peers - with older women, who seemed to appreciate those qualities more. 

It seemed he was naturally drawn to someone older, even when his basic instincts took over.

After 10 minutes of walking, they were seated in a cozy little restaurant, and Sarah made sure he was facing the middle, where the chef was assembling the dumplings. 

Quinn looked over the menu, feeling instantly overwhelmed. There were so many things he didn't know here. “What's good?” he asked, trying to calm his nerves. 

Truly, what the hell was he doing? He felt so out of his element. He dated, but never like this. Usually via set up and occasionally from an app, but he always knew something about his date before they met in person. 

This was all his least favorite parts of getting to know someone in a situation that felt too high-stakes. He wasn’t even sure why. Sarah was pretty. Not in the overly stunning instagram pretty way Jack usually favored, but more girl next door kind of pretty, in a way that made him interested to know her more, but he didn't feel intimidated or uncomfortable around her. Something about her tilted him off his axis enough to make him go out of his comfort zone enough to ask her to lunch. For the first time, he found himself thinking, this could really go somewhere, and that scared him shitless.

“Everything I've tried is good. You should at least try the rainbow dumplings. Then you can try all the flavors.”

He nodded and set the menu down. 

“We could split an entree too?” She suggested, sensing his unease. “The dumplings aren't really a total meal.”

“Sure. You pick.”

“Anything you don't like? Any dietary things?” 

Quinn shook his head, “no, I’m off tomorrow, so I’m not watching what I eat.”

They locked eyes over her menu, “do you have to do that a lot?” 

He nodded, “it comes with the territory. Gotta stay in peak condition, you know?” 

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. 

He took off his cap and nervously ran his hand through his hair before replacing it. His hair was thick and a little wavy, she saw. It made her like him even more. 

After holding eye contact for a beat too long, she tore her eyes away to look at the menu again. “Do you mind if I do something a little weird?” she asked. 

When she dared to meet his eyes again, he was looking at her like he was bracing for something that was going to ruin his whole reputation. 

“I mean with ordering,” she said, laughing. 

“Oh,” Quinn felt his whole body relax, “sure.” 

“Were you worried I was going to ask for pictures of your feet or something?” 

Laughter burst out of his mouth, splitting his face into a natural, easy smile that suited him. The childish scrunch to his nose coupled with the wide, sure-of-himself smile made him look somehow younger and older at the same time.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit.” 

“I can’t even imagine,” she said, laughing. 

The waiter came up to the table then. 

Sarah glanced at Quinn, a smile still playing on her lips.

“You order,” he said, feeling childish. 

“We’ll have two orders of the rainbow dumplings, and whatever main dish you want to bring us.” 

Quinn choked a little on the water he was drinking. 

“Just no seafood.” 

The waiter nodded, like this wasn’t an unusual request, “spice level?” 

Sarah looked to Quinn for guidance. 

“Mild,” he said. 

“Mild, then.” 

“No allergies?” 

Sarah shook her head, and the waiter walked away. 

“Do you do that a lot?” he asked. 

“Sometimes. I have a friend who does it every time we go out. It’s a great way to try new things.” 

“And no seafood?” he asked, “has your work turned you away from it?” 

“No, not really, but I only get it if it’s sustainably sourced, and I didn’t want to have a whole conversation over who their seafood supplier is, and most waiters don't know that stuff anyway, so it’s just easier to say none.” 

Their conversation slipped into a silence that wasn't completely uncomfortable. 

“So,” she said, starting to fiddle with the things on the table, a soy sauce decanter and a square ceramic container with a tiny spoon in it. “Tell me more about yourself.” 

“Like what?”

“Like,” she paused, filtering through the questions that raced through her head, “what's your favorite movie?”

“Star Wars.”  

“Which one?”

“I like all of the original trio, but probably The Empire Strikes Back most.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Why?”

“Oh, I dated a guy a while ago who told me his favorite Star Wars movie was The Phantom Menace and I almost broke up with him on the spot.”

Quinn laughed. 

“What's your favorite?”

“Oh, I have so many,” she said, “For Star Wars: A New Hope. Overall, it kind of depends on the day, but I have some go-to comfort movies, like any of the original Marvel movies, Lord of the Rings, and this chick flick called In Her Shoes I used to watch a lot with my mom.”

Feeling more and more like he really had won the lottery, Quinn smiled at her. It was strange to think a girl like this existed and had been existing in the same city as him for some time. A woman that was cute and curvy and had so many of the qualities he always said he was looking for. Passionate about what she was doing, didn't take herself too seriously, was a bit of a nerd like he was, but not too nerdy, didn’t want to date him for clout or money.

People in his life had often wondered if the list was too long to find in a real person. He'd started to wonder the same thing over the past few months. Part of it was that it felt easier to have a long list so he didn’t have to worry about looking for someone while he was so busy. He'd always figured he'd meet someone later on in his career or even after it was done. Then he would have the time to dedicate to dating and marriage. 

Despite all that, here Sarah was, smiling at him over a lunch table like fate had just dropped her into his life. 

Their food came and they continued talking. Sarah could tell he was a quiet guy, always taking time to think before he spoke. Despite that, she didn't feel like she was carrying the conversation. It was a pleasant surprise for a first date. 

At one point, Quinn looked so lost at how to eat the dumplings that she took pity on him and gave him the instructional card from the table. “I was lost when I first came here, too,” she assured. 

When they finished, and Quinn had shut down her offer to pay for half of the food, she glanced at her watch, surprised to find that it was already 2:05. Their conversation had been so consistent and comfortable, she hadn’t realized how much time had passed. 

“Oh, shit,” she said. “I’m sorry. I have to get back.” 

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, standing and putting  a cash tip on the table. 

Sarah felt a little dizzy. Everything felt so sudden, like Karma had finally noticed all her pain and delivered her something good for a change. She’d gotten so used to slogging along, enjoying what she was doing, but not really looking forward to the future with any big hope or optimism. The sudden change had her reeling.

When they got back to the Aquarium, Quinn stopped at the entrance, tucking himself behind one of the pillars to provide a little more privacy. 

“I, uh,” he found himself saying. How did you end a date with a woman you were beginning to feel might just be your soulmate? 

“I had a really nice time,” she said. 

“Yeah, me too.”

He leaned in, trying to gauge if she wanted to be kissed, or if a hug would put him too much in the friend-zone. His brothers probably would have chastised him for not going in for the kiss right away, but the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. 

They did a short, awkward dance, neither knowing what, exactly, to do. It struck Sarah as the most uncomfortable thing on their date thus far. 

Finally, she took charge and wrapped her arms around his neck in an embrace. 

 Quinn sighed as he gathered her against him. 

His willingness to wait for her to dictate the level of physicality they shared ticked another box on her list. She wouldn’t have minded kissing him, but the fact that he respected that boundary right off the bat had game show-winner bells ringing in her mind. 

“I know you have to go, but can I get your number?” he asked, stepping back from the embrace, letting his left hand linger on her hip.

She giggled a little, thinking what a weird formality it was that he had to ask at this point. She gave him her number and he texted to make sure it was right. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, showing him. 

“I’ll see you later?” she asked. looking up into his face. She wasn’t surprised to find the same hope she felt reflected back at her. 

He glanced at her lips before meeting her eyes again, “yeah.”

Another glance at her watch had her stepping back from him. “I’m sorry, I’m late,” she said, turning away before turning back at the last second and brushing her lips over his cheek. “See you later.” 

He watched her run down the hall before turning around and heading back home, feeling like he could stomach an evening alone with Sarah on his mind. 

Later that night, studying in her room, Sarah finally pulled her phone from her backpack and typed out the message that had been pulling at her thoughts all day, making it impossible to really focus on anything else.

Some of her friends, she knew, would tell her she was putting too much out there too soon. Perhaps she was, but losing her mom had given her a fuck that attitude to many things - not expressing her true feelings being one of them. If it scared him off, that would tell her all she needed to know. 

She hit send, hoping she wasn’t wrong. 

Quinn was in his own apartment, not really paying attention to the Devils-Hurricanes game playing, mostly trying to figure out when it would be okay to text her. With the way everything had gone that day, he felt like any time would be the right time. The anxious part of his mind battled against that thought, worried about coming on too strong or seeming needy and messing things up. 

He pulled his phone out, finally deciding that he should just say something. 

It dinged in his hand, and her name flashed across his screen. Shocked, he dropped the phone and had to fish it out from under the couch before he could read her message. 

Thank you for today. You were such a welcome surprise. 

It was so heartfelt, he sat on the floor between the couch and coffee table for a while, re-reading their conversation.  

This is Quinn. 

Thank you for today. You were such a welcome surprise. 

The embarrassingly earnest part of him wanted to tell her all he was feeling, but he knew it was too soon to tell her he thought they could go the distance. It was too soon for him to be voicing those things to himself. He didn’t really even know her. Yet.

Sarah watched his text bubble appear and disappear several times before she clicked off her screen, unable to watch.

Her heart was rioting in her chest. Yes, fuck that, but also if he proved her wrong, she knew she would be crying herself to sleep. 

Finally - finally her phone buzzed. Hands shaking, she struggled to unlock it, eventually having to put her code in twice before it worked. His message slid onto the screen, and she released the breath she’d been holding. 

I feel the same way. I can’t wait to see you again.

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