#but god i am daydreaming. what if. what IF i had a nice cozy little cluster of people in varying degrees of intimacy....

[genderfluid-druid]

on the razors edge of saying things that would start conversations i KNOW are destructive to both me and other people so hello tumblr. I'm posting here instead because those people are not here

[dudumax4ever]

Love in The Fast Lane

fanfic ⭐️

Lando Norris

authors note- i hope u all love it, this took me forever lol but it’s very cute

warnings - none. kissing ig? but very normal other wise( unlike my other fics)

Please note this if you like it! if u can leave a comment that would be nice too!

Enjoy!

There you sat in a cozy little bookstore on a rainy afternoon. The shelves are lined with old novels and the air is filled with the scent of coffee and vanilla. You came here to do some silent reading by yourself, but little did you know that fate had something else in store for you that day. You have always found your close friend, Lando Norris to be pretty attractive. But in your fear of ruining your relationship as friends you never acted on it.

You entered the library at around 6 in the evening. The sky was absolutely pouring and the smell of rain filled your senses. Upon entering the library, you shake the rain off your umbrella and spot Lando sitting near a window.

"Hey Lando! can I join you here?"

"Sure y/n! I would love that" he says politely.

Lando had always been a gentleman. It's one of the reasons you found him to be such a good friend and also the reason you were sort of crushing on him. "Thanks Lan. So what are you doing here in the Library?" "I honestly don't know, I've never been much of a reader, I guess I was bored." " Nice, I'm going to go fetch a book, see you in a minute". Lando nods at you. You get up and go to the romance section of the library. Romance books are your favorite kind of books to read. While searching around for a book you zone out and start thinking about Lando. The ways his eyes change color depending on the weather, the ways his eyes shut when he's smiling too much, or the way his smile can melt hearts and disarm the toughest individuals. Suddenly you realize your thoughts are going somewhere else, so you gather yourself grab a good book and walk back to where Lando was sitting.

"So, what book did you pick out y/n?" Lando inquired. "Oh, just some random romance book I spotted, I think I might issue it" you answered him cheerfully." Daydreaming about someone?" Lando joked. " What? No!" you answered with an exasperated expression on your face. " Relax, I'm only joking! But now I'm curious y/n" " Lando, I swear to God, I will kill you today and _I'm_ _not_ joking."

"So, what book did you pick out y/n?" Lando inquired. "Oh, just some random romance book I spotted, I think I might issue it" you answered him cheerfully." Daydreaming about someone?" Lando joked. "What? No!" you answered with an exasperated expression on your face. " Relax, I'm only joking! But now I'm curious y/n" " Lando, I swear to God, I will kill you today and _I'm_ _not_ joking." Lando looked at you with an amused look on his face. Oh my God. You could kiss him. You looked into his eyes for a second. He looked directly into yours. As you gazed into Lando's eyes, the world around you melted away. His piercing blue irises held you captive, their warmth and kindness enveloping you like a gentle embrace. you felt lost in their depths, drowning in the intensity of his gaze, your heart fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. Suddenly you felt your gaze lingering too long, and your cheeks flushed with sudden shyness. You snapped your eyes back to reality, breaking the spell, and pretended to study the nearby bookshelf instead. His eyes were etched deep into your memory.

You pull out a little book in which you were writing the points to a small romance story that you planned on releasing in Wattpad. "Hey, what's so captivating?" Lando asks, peeking over your shoulder.

You jump, startled, and try to compose yourself. "Oh, just writing a scene for my book."

Lando's eyes scan the page, and his eyebrows rise. "Ah, I see. And what's this I see? Am I the inspiration for the dashing hero?"

You feel your face flush, and you try to play it cool. "No way Norris."

Lando chuckles and leans against the desk, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "And what's this romantic gesture the hero is making? 'Lando's eyes held you captive, his gaze burning with intensity"

You laugh, feeling a bit self-conscious. "Well, I might have gotten a little carried away."

Lando grins mischievously. "I think it's great. But don't you think it's a bit...cheesy?"

You laugh, and he joins in, his deep voice rumbling. Together, you laugh so hard that tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

As you wipe your eyes, Lando asks, "So, does the heroine get her happily ever after?"

You smile slyly. "You'll have to wait and see."

Lando raises an eyebrow, still chuckling. "I'm on the edge of my seat."

You both continue laughing, the tension between you palpable, but in a good way.

You sit on the couch, Lando beside you, the tension between you increasing with each passing moment. Your laughter from earlier still lingers in the air, but now it's mixed with a nervous energy. You both know that the conversation is about to take a turn.

Lando turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours. "Hey, can I ask you something?" he says, his voice low and husky.

Your heart skips a beat. "What is it?" you reply, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Lando hesitates, his eyes searching yours. "Do you...feel it too?" he asks finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You know exactly what he's talking about. The flutter in your chest when he's near, the way your skin tingles when he touches you, the way you can't seem to tear your eyes away from his.

You take a deep breath and let your guard down. "Yes, I feel it too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's eyes light up with hope, and he leans in closer. "I've been trying to ignore it, to tell myself it's just friendship, but I can't deny it anymore," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

Your heart races as you realize that you're both on the same page. "I've been feeling the same way," you admit, your voice shaking slightly.

Lando's face inches closer, his breath mingling with yours. "I'm so glad I'm not alone in this," he whispers, his eyes burning with intensity.

You feel like you're drowning in his gaze, but in a good way. You know that you're both crossing a line, but you can't help it.

"I'm glad too," you whisper back, your heart pounding in your chest.

Lando's eyes drop to your lips, and you know what's coming next. Your heart skips a beat as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

The world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the moment. You feel like you're home, like you've finally found what you've been searching for.

As you pull back, gasping for air, Lando takes your hand in his. "I've been wanting to do that for so long," he admits, his eyes shining with happiness.

You smile, feeling like you're floating on air. "Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's thumb strokes your hand, sending shivers down your spine. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship," he admits, his eyes filled with vulnerability.

You squeeze his hand, feeling a deep connection. "I was afraid too," you reply, your voice filled with emotion.

You both sit there in silence for a moment, hands entwined, hearts beating as one. You know that this is just the beginning of something special, something that could change your life forever.

Finally, Lando speaks up, his voice filled with excitement. "So, what do we do now?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with hope.

You smile, feeling a sense of joy and freedom. "We take a chance on each other," you reply.

Lando grins, his eyes shining with happiness. "I like the sound of that," he says, leaning in for another kiss.

As your lips meet, you know that this is just the beginning.

part 2 at request in comments

[koopadumpling]

tagegd by @iamgwenslongroadhome! Thank you Jana! 💜

tagged by @abnormal-as-expected

1. Are you named after anyone?

My middle name, Rose, is something of a family name. There’s my aunt Rose, a great grandmother with Rose as a middle name, etc etc.

2. When was the last time you cried?

lmao what day goes by without me crying, really? I am an emotional person, which is something that I like about myself. Tears aren’t always bad, after all!

3. Do you have kids?

Nah. I like kids, but I never had the desire to have my own. Just not for me.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes. I wouldn’t say a lot, but I guess like? an average amount?

5. What is the first thing you notice about people?

I’ve ... never thought about that before. I don’t know if it’s the first thing I notice, but I think I’m good at noticing beauty in people? Even if I’m not personally attracted to someone, I tend to notice like, oh they have nice eyes or, that’s a nice hair color. That kind of thing.

6. What is your eye color?

Brown.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings!!! I mean I also enjoy a drama with a sad or bittersweet ending, but I do love the cozy feel of a happily ever after.

8. Any special talents?

I’m good at reading body language, someone’s mood, etc. I pick up the VIbes of a room well, and I’m good at responding kind -- being gentle with someone if they need it, comforting someone, or if they’re in a jokey mood, joking along with them, etc. I’m also not half bad at putting together an outfit.

9. Where were you born?

In a hospital in a city with a religious name.

10. What are your hobbies?

Video games, crochet, model kits (gunpla and miniatures, mainly Warhammer), reading, drawing, toy collecting, looking at fashions online and daydreaming about having All the Money for pretty dresses (and helping friends out of tight spots and etc but ALSO, pretty dresses). I also like to listen to podcasts and audiobooks.

11. Do you have any pets?

I live with my girlfriend’s family, and their dog Gertie is The Light of My Life. She was rescued from a bad situation and can have some behavioral issues, but the thing is that, she will warn you. If she’s feeling grumpy she’ll signal to you that she needs space. As long as you respect that space, she’s not gonna snap at you or anything.

And the thing is, she really is a very sweet puppy. She loves pets and gives you little kisses and likes to feel safe next to you. You just gotta pay attention to her needs, you know? Which is not so different from any other pet, or from people!

Also she is somehow the most buff small dog I have ever met. Why does a poodle have so many muscles??? The world may never know.

also also when she wants your attention she waves her leg at you and it is THE MOST ADORABLE OH MY GOD

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I never really got into sports. I kind of wish I had though. Sometimes I have wild fantasies about getting into a martial art lmao. Not like, competitively, just. To enjoy it. And pretend that I’m a Street Fighter character.

13. How tall are you?

5'6.5"

14. Favorite subject in school?

Social studies, creative writing, art, literature.

15. Dream job?

Honestly, I’d love to just have a job a local bookstore. 🤷🏻‍♀️ A life among books ............ you know???

[autocann1bal]

part seven of my playlist analysis!!

part 1 <;- part 2 &lt;- part 3 <- part 4 <- part 5 &lt;- part 6 <- soup soup soup welcome home - radical face lucy's return to portland row, lots of crying, lots of hugging, holly is very confused. very nice atmosphere. burn - malibu '92 lucy before l&co. just existing in that horrible horrible town working that horrible job. but she just. cant. leave. she cant leave. yet. look whos inside again - bo burnham LOOK I HAD TOO IM SORRY. its very lockwood after showing lucy and george whats in the room on the landing. he feels stuck. he feels like he cant get out of this damn house. every memory is still there, just fading. something super sweet - rory webley ik the actual song is about abusive partners and all that shit but if you thnik about it differently its. its lucy. lockwood keeps drawing her back no matter how hard she tries to get away. mr brightside - the killers OK THIS ONE IS SO FUNNY. HEAR ME OUT. after lockwood sees kipps and lucy talking outside he starts blasting this shit from his room and everyone can hear it and hes playing it as hes getting ready and lucy is gettnig ready in her room and is just like ????lockwood wtf and oh my god its so funny hes using a comb as a mic and is putting on a whole performance its hilarious. i bet on losing dogs - mitski oo different vibe from the last one LMAO. lockwood has fallen asleep in her lap after a long cry session, shes running her fingers through his hair and hes sleeping surprisingly peacfully, just thinking about how he might not make it, she starts to cry. looking out for you - joy again lucy after holly shows up, she feels replaced and like lockwood likes holly more, she feels like she should stop being so "obsessed" (in love) with him because he has holly now. she is so so wrong. cigarette daydreams - cage the elephant lockwood is in lucys lap again (im so origional and creative im sorry im just a sucker for pathetic men in their badass gfs lap) and hes talking about jess. she feels bad just cuz he was such a little kid, he didnt deserve to see that. you stupid bitch - girl in red self explanatory??? i think?? maybe i was boring - wilbur soot idk ik the songs r sad and all but it has such cozy reading together on a rainy day vibes. freaks - surfcurse this is so :(((( its so lockwood. OK i know what the lyrics are so dont come at me but if hypothetically the lyrics where "i am just a phase" itd make even more sense. the adults are talking - the strokes a song lucy blasted walking through her tiny town, maybe getting groceries or something like that. goodbye to a world - porter robinson gives lucy talking with the visitors vibes. fallen down - toby fox ermmm lets skip this one LMAOO ignore it arms tonight - mother mother oh boy this one is sad if you think about it for too long so dont think about it for too long :). cause for concern - lovejoy lockwood being reckless and throwing himself directly in harms way just because he wants to die so bad then whenever lucy or george try and ask about it he says its 'no cause for concern'. IT IS VERY MUCH A CAUSE FOR CONCERN. phonograph - piper madison lockwood and his dysfunctional brain and dysfunctional routines. garden in the backyard - bl lucy is sick and locky is takin care of she :>>. runaway - aurora lucys mind while on the walk to the trainstation, and walking through london, getting turned down by agencies over and over before finally arriving at lockwood and co.

this one is weirdly short but anyway ONTO PART 8 SOBS

[pascalpanic]

Lovely Josie! Can I request a Frankie piece? Where reader is part of the friend group and really into Frankie. She knows he's also into her but just typical insecure Frankie. So she flirts with him and tries to seduce him every chance she gets until one day she's had enough and really goes for it. And if course Frankie likes it 😇 Merci!

Spicy-Sweet (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

summary: ^^

W/C: 4.3K

Warnings: lots of talk of alcohol, food, god Frankie’s an idiot but a cute one, so much pining and flirting, implied age gap and Frankie’s insecure over it, Frankie has a brief and mild anxiety attack but is comforted

A/N: this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Bucky- that was what the men called you. When you’d first joined the group of men, it’d been as Pope’s friend, a shock to all of them; you weren’t sleeping together, weren’t sneaking around. Just friends. That threw them for a loop. You were always at his side, his right-hand wing-woman. Frankie had been a little put off at first that he’d been replaced, but he grew to like you just as much as the other men. That’s how you’d earned Bucky: Cap’s sidekick, Pope’s sidekick.

When you finally bonded with the rest of them, became friends with them, you were less Pope’s sidekick and more yourself. You grew to love the men for different things. Benny was always there to cheer you up, full of bad jokes and energy. He’d take you out when a date stood you up, buy you a beer on your shittiest days. Will Miller was a shoulder to cry on. He was smart, strong, emotionally intelligent. Wise beyond his years, Ironhead always had the best advice for you. Pope was the partier, and was the one who got things done. Organizing plans was his forte. He loved getting the group together to hang out, and was the only one who could rally the group.

Frankie was all of that and more. Everything. Frankie had caught your eye the moment Pope introduced you to the men. Frankie was the quietest, even quieter than Will. He never enjoyed the spotlight, especially when you were new, but he loved making his friends laugh. He was comforting and helpful, lending you a jacket or helping you with a manual labor task you couldn’t quite get.

Frankie is the one you have a crush on. All of the men have their attributes, and you have to admit that any of them would make a good boyfriend and surely a good lover, but they are and always have been brotherly first. Frankie was something different. You wanted to stay in his arms forever, wanted to kiss the bald patch on his jaw and steal his Hawaiian shirts. You tease him endlessly to hide your feelings, though never in a mean way at all. Always soft and joking, always reciprocated by the teddy bear of a man.

You were the same to him; the first time he saw you, he thought he wanted to marry you someday. He loves your laugh and your humor, loves the way you nudge his side and even though it’s a little painful, wants you to do it again just so he can feel your body touching his. He loves how you can hold court over the men with your stories, can get them to agree on the most divisive of issues. He’d even proposed once that you become Cap, not Bucky. You were clearly a leader. But Santiago brushed it off by saying that Bucky was getting his own show now, so he’s just fine, and besides pendejo, you can’t change a nickname once it's been given.

Emotionally constipated Frankie is just fine to sit to the sidelines. If he has one principle with love and friends, it’s that he’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. That’s why he doesn’t necessarily openly flirt with you, why he suppresses his feelings until it’s late at night and he’s alone and can daydream about your pretty face and tight jeans and the crinkle of your nose when you smile.

You’re different. You wear that green shirt you know Frankie always ogles you in when it’s a night out. You buy him a drink or two. You insist he dance with you, take him on errands with you on a Saturday morning. You can read the man; you’re pretty damn sure he likes you too, but you don’t want to ruin it. Rushing him is the last thing on your mind.

-

As you wander through the farmer’s market on a spring Sunday morning, you shiver as the breeze rushes past your bare arms. Frankie doesn’t notice; he’s too busy admiring a booth selling hot honey. You can’t help but laugh as he delightedly samples a spoon of the syrupy-sweet-spicy product, and turns to you with wide eyes. “Bucky, you gotta try this,” he insists, handing you a sample spoon.

Nodding, you give in and taste it. The flavor on your tongue reminds you of Frankie if he were a flavor: a little spicy, but more of a warm feeling. Infinitely sticky-sweet, floral and tasting of sunshine. There’s heat, just a little, enough to awaken your tastebuds and mingle with the honey perfectly. “That’s good shit. How much is it?” You ask the vendor.

A few minutes later, you walk away with two bottles. You hand one to Frankie. “Here. This is for you,” you tell him with an earnest smile.

Frankie’s brows slide together beneath the brim of his favorite ball cap. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you shrug and pat his cheek, your path curving to the right as you approach a bakery stall.

The morning is sunny and just slightly cold, making you shiver every so often. Sweet Frankie walks dutifully at your side like the dogs and their owners similarly strolling the tent-lined sidewalk. His eyes light up as he sees breads and flowers, homemade jerky and beautiful jewelry. The variety is exciting, and you often hear Frankie shouting for you from a new booth.

While you admire the jewelry made of local stones, something warm and soft covers your shoulders. You look down to find that it’s Frankie’s suede brown jacket. “You looked cold,” he tells you and turns a little pink before patting your shoulder and wandering off.

At the end of the day, you have a full reusable bag, brimming with goodies: a small bright bouquet, two loaves of bread, cookies, fresh berries, and a bottle of hot honey. Frankie’s is similarly stuffed, though it’s with much more unhealthy choices. The two of you sit on a grassy hill, munching on a pack of thumbprint cookies Frankie purchased.

The morning sun is just starting to warm up, but the jacket you’re now wearing is cozy. You lean your head on Frankie’s shoulder as the two of you rest there without words, lost in your own thoughts.

God, he’s so cute. So sweet. A little stupid. Just how I like them. Is my flirting not obvious enough to him? You wonder internally.

Frankie’s thoughts are similar but different. She’s so sweet. She’s so nice to me. I wonder if she’d ever like me like that.

-

Partying is Pope’s favorite pastime. The man enjoys getting shitfaced and taking a similarly drunk date home. Lord knows what they do; you’re glad you don’t. That leaves you and the Millers and Frankie. You and Benny dance and sing karaoke, twirling and shouting the lyrics to the song blasting in the bar. Frankie and Will sit on the sidelines.

That’s exactly where tonight has found you. A surprisingly sober Pope has gone home with a pretty girl he flirted with briefly before she tugged him by the jacket sleeve. He shot a look of excitement at the four of you before leaving.

Now, Benny requested his favorite song through the pay-per-tune machine in the corner. You’d squealed and dragged him out, dancing with him on the wooden floor the bar provides. Frankie can’t help but think the two of you would make a good couple. The two of you are full of sarcasm and energy at most times, around the same age. Frankie’s a bit older, and he can’t help but think that it would be weird for you, that it would prevent him from liking you. If only he knew.

Benny does, actually. He’s annoyed that your group doesn’t give him enough credit for his smarts. He might be mostly muscle, but he’s packing brains too. He’s great at observing social interactions, and he can especially tell that there’s something between the two of you. He’s learned his best friend like he knows how to drive or what his own phone number is. Benny knows Frankie, and he knows he won’t make the first move for fear of upsetting you. That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to be your blonde, blue eyed Cupid and queued up Frankie’s favorite song next.

You know it’s his favorite song. Of course you do. When it comes on, you turn to the bar with wide eyes and wave to catch Frankie’s attention, then wave him over. Benny says something or another and wanders off. It takes some nonverbal persuading, some pleading eyes and pouting to the man, but Frankie eventually adjusts his jeans and gets up, leaving that suede jacket behind on his barstool.

“It’s your song!” you exclaim as you throw your arms around him, starting to dance along with him. He moves back with you, though nowhere near as fluid or free.

He shakes his head but smiles, and you flick the brim of his cap. “Oh come on, you love this song. Don’t be such a dope,” you tease and grab his hips, forcing him to move them a little more than the stiff motions he’s making.

“I am a dope,” he mumbles and you roll your eyes, moving in a way that invites Frankie to move back against it. It’s a two-person dance, and you’re starting to get him moving.

Chuckling, you look up at him. “You ever seen Footloose?” you ask him.

He blows a raspberry into the air, laughing. “Of course I have. It’s my favorite movie.”

“Then how come you can’t dance?” You tease.

Frankie makes a noise of mock-injury, clutching his chest. “Damn, Bucky. Right in the heart.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. “I was going to say that you remind me of Willard. I guess that’s fitting though. You can’t dance.”

His scent is the only thing you can think about, the way his cologne is spicy and sweet on his flushed skin, warm from having you in such close proximity. “Does that make Pope Ren?”

“And it makes me whatever the girl who dates Willard is named,” you shamelessly flirt, swaying him to the side as the song changes in keys.

If there was anything in Frankie’s mouth right now, he’d be choking. Maybe it’s just because you’re dancing together, he rationalizes. Maybe it’s just because you wouldn’t want to date Pope. It can’t be because you like him. That’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. “Ha. Sure,” he shakes his head, taking off his cap and teasingly placing it backwards on your head.

It’s loose on your head, and you laugh as you look up at him. Frankie has that feeling again in his gut: he’s going to marry you someday. It can’t be the alcohol, not in either of you. You’ve both only had a drink each. No, in this moment he realizes the depth of how bad he wants you, but he cannot comprehend that you want him too. There’s no way you could ever love a man like Francisco Morales, he tells himself. But he wants you to. He aches for you to.

The song ends and the ache only grows. Frankie is not a dancer. This is his time to retire to the barstool. “Well, thank you for holding my hat,” he teases you and steals it back, putting it on himself and patting your side before wandering back to his spot next to Will.

You frown, but then Benny finds you again and the energy returns somewhat. You long to feel Frankie’s arms around you again, to dance with him and whisper jokes next to his ear so that you can feel the way his laugh buzzes in his chest. You consider buying another play of Frankie’s song later, but that would be suspicious. You’ll have to find another way, but you have to do it soon; you’re not sure how much longer you can last before you combust from not getting to kiss his soft lips, to feel his scruff beneath your fingertips as you cup his face and finally close the gap between the two of you.

-

Frankie is much too old for parties. He’d decided that even a few years ago now, that that sort of thing was best left to the young bucks who could drink endlessly and awaken with only a mild headache. How the hell Benny had talked him into attending this party, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that you’d be there and that was enough for him.

You’re not a big partier either; you can get wild, but only around your friends, usually only with Benny there to egg you on and hand you shot after shot. You don’t particularly like getting drunk, just enough alcohol to make things a bit lighter. Benny and Santiago were the ones who’d insisted you and Frankie come along to this party a mutual friend of theirs is hosting.

Of course, the boys wanted you two there but had failed to mention they were each bringing dates. When you wandered in with Benny and a girl flung herself onto him, peppering his blonde stubble with kisses, you’d quickly learned that you weren’t going to get a good night with your favorite guys. Santiago was similarly taken, a girl draped across his lap in a busy living room, each of them holding a drink. He’d given you a two-finger salute as you wandered to the kitchen, kind of annoyed.

You’d dressed a little nicer, though nothing too special, and you immediately hoped at least Frankie and Will would be around tonight to hang out with. Will’s not a big partier, though he’s a little more social than you and Frankie. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and your face falls as you read the text.

Ironhead: sorry guys. Not gonna make it out tonight.

He provides no explanation why; Will never does. You know better than to question it. Your only hope now is that Frankie doesn’t blow you off.

Frankie could never. The promise of you being at the party was enough for him to meticulously shave and spray that cologne he knows you love on his flannel, which you’ll surely ask for because you’re always cold. He’s not here yet, so you lean against the kitchen counter and crack open a hard seltzer as you look around. Bringing your drink with you, you hit the bathroom and when you return, there’s a familiar ball cap poking above the crowd, labeled with Standard Heating & Oil. Frankie.

Sneaking up behind him, you snatch the cap from his head and put it on yourself. “Hey, pilot,” you sing as he turns and his face lights up to see you. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, leaving an indent in those curls from where the cap was.

“Goddamnit, Buck,” he laughs and tries to steal it back, but you dodge out of the way.

“Looks like it’s just us tonight, flyboy,” you sigh as you prop an elbow on his shoulder and look around, finding Benny and his girl making out on the dance floor and Santiago playing with a woman’s hair on the couch.

Frankie has to admit he’s okay with that. “They didn’t tell me they’d be bringing dates,” you grumble. Frankie holds back a chuckle. This was most definitely planned, Wingman Benny embracing his role in forcing the two of you together. Frankie couldn’t say he was too upset about it, in all honesty. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” you shake your head and grab Frankie by the bicep, trying not to shiver at how muscular his arms are.

In the kitchen, you toy with the hem of his shirt as he mixes himself an old fashioned from the vast cocktail bar. “I love this one,” you murmur absentmindedly, admiring the worn fabric and the ripping seams at the hem. It’s so perfectly Frankie: an old black Fleetwood Mac shirt, nearly falling apart. There are holes in the hems and under the left armpit but it always smells sweet and spicy, just like him, and feels like a security blanket. “Looks good on you.”

“Looks like a piece of shit. I need to just throw it out, but I can’t bring myself to,” he chuckles as he finally takes a sip of his drink. He knows the reason he can’t: you love it too much.

“Good,” you nod and set down your hard seltzer, making yourself a drink.

“What you got there?” he asks as he watches you stir up a concoction.

“Essentially the same as you. Old fashioned but with Fireball instead of regular whiskey.”

“You seem to like the spicy-sweet thing, don’t you?” he teases.

God, if only he knew. “Spicy-sweet, just like someone else I know,” you tease him and nudge your shoulder with his. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

Frankie’s heart does several backflips in a row, complete with a roundoff and a cartwheel. He’d earn the gold in the Olympics, the way his heart tumbles and turns in his chest. “Ha,” he laughs dryly, looking down at his own drink, swishing it and watching the ultra-sweet cherry spin through the dark liquid.

The music gets louder from the other room as you and Frankie drink in silence, both of you leaning against the kitchen counter as the amount of alcohol per cup steadily decreases. “I’m gonna go see if I can find Pope,” Frankie finally speaks over the loudening noise, nodding to the living room where everyone is clustered.

“Sure,” you call back, even though he’s just a few feet from you.

It’s practically a maze, trying to find his way through the people. They’re all moving and bouncing, the sound overwhelming him. It’s like a goddamn mosh pit, he thinks, or how it must feel to be buried inside one. How did this party become something like this, and why the hell is he here? Frankie wanders through, getting turned around as the group moves and sways.

His breathing gets heavier, and suddenly Frankie feels suffocated. His primary objective no longer is finding Pope, it’s getting the fuck out of here before this herd stampedes him to death. He feels pathetic and small, like a single fish in a giant school wandering through an abysmally deep sea.

When the tide loosens its hold, when Frankie sees a path, he takes it out. He’s not sure how long he was trapped in there- 20 seconds, a minute, five minutes, but he’s overwhelmed and his head is spinning, his drink somehow gone and lost in the shuffle.

You see him stumble out, looking terrified, and rush over. “Hey, hey, Frankie,” you murmur as you grab his forearms. “Are you okay? Did you find Pope?” You ask, your thumbs tracing over his pulsing veins.

He shakes his head, and you take it as a no for both. “Okay, come on, did you drive here? Is your truck out there?”

He nods and grabs his keys, putting them in your hand. “Alright, pilot, come on. Let’s get you out of here.” You stick the hat back on his head and hope it could maybe bring a sense of normalcy back to him.

Frankie’s head feels like radio static as you bring him to the truck, unlocking it and sliding in first across the bench seat. He follows in after you and closes the door, and he turns the air conditioning on full-blast, feeling desperately hot.

“Hey, hey. Talk to me,” you beg of him, cupping the side of his face with one hand. You shiver under the quick breeze of the vents, the cold air immediately filling the cab of his truck. “What happened?” You ask, just above a whisper, fingers tracing the stubble of his jaw.

His eyes are getting more normal, less panicked and more sane. He must’ve had some kind of anxiety or PTSD moment in the crowd. “Just… thought I was gonna get crushed,” he murmurs, not looking at you.

“Frankie. Let’s breathe together, okay? Look at me.” His eyes find yours and you smile. “Good. Follow me.”

You ground him nearly instantly, your chilled skin under his hands as he grips your upper arms, your soft lips parting to breathe in and out. The flutter of your eyelashes when you close those beautiful eyes, the one that have such a distinct unique color. He would kiss you right now if he had the courage.

He breathes along with you and is calm enough by the second breath to think rationally again. The wave has passed, leaving his body feeling tired and limp. “I-I’m good,” he assures you, tracing his fingers across your skin. “Bucky, you’re freezing.”

“Frankie,” you give a sad chuckle. “I’m supposed to be calming you, and-“

“I’m super hot, please, take this,” he says as he shucks his flannel and hands it to you. “It would help me,” he says simply, enjoying the way the air conditioning more directly contacts his skin without it on.

“Well, okay,” you laugh and slip it on, breathing in the warm scent that is Frankie and sighing contentedly. “See? I love the sweet and spicy thing, like your cologne.”

He shakes his head and looks away. “Oh, stop. You don’t mean that.”

You frown at him. “Frankie. You’re thinking straight again, right?”

He nods.

“Then how aren’t you processing how in love with you I am?” You ask with a soft laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “I flirt with you endlessly, and it feels like you never pick up on it. So now I’m just going to say it: I like you, Frankie.”

Biting his lip, Frankie looks down at you with slight confusion. “Really?”

You laugh incredulously, burying your face in his neck. “Yes, Frankie, really. I like you a lot. I have since the moment I met you. And I’d like to think you like me too.”

There’s a beat of silence and he nods, taking one of your hands in his and lacing the fingers together. “I really like you too. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met, Buck,” he admits, wide brown eyes looking down at you with all of the love in his massive heart. “I just… didn’t want to assume anything. You’re so good to me, but you’re so good to the other guys too.”

“Do I buy the other men bottles of hot honey? Have I ever brought a date around like the other guys do?” You ask, lovingly and hoping he sees your point. “I’ve been pining for you for so long, Morales. I just want you to get it through your thick skull that I care for you and I’ve been in love with you for quite a while.”

“I feel stupid,” he mumbles, ears turning pink at the tips. “It was pretty obvious. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid,” you assure him and squeeze his fingers. “I personally think it’s fucking adorable that you didn’t want to assume that. I like that, that you didn’t want to do anything first without knowing the same about you. I like all of you, Frankie, from that scruffy beard to these cozy flannels you always let me borrow.”

His heart melts in his chest, reducing him to a puddle. “Then I guess I should ask if you’d be my girl.”

His girl? If you thought he couldn’t get any cuter, you were wrong. You can’t hold back any longer and you swing your leg across his lap, straddling him in the bench seat of his truck. “Can I kiss you, Frankie?” You ask, gently removing his cap and setting it aside.

“God, yes please,” he practically whines as he cups your face in both of his big hands, kissing you deeply and breathing out heavily through his nose.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, Frankie’s body pressed to yours as your lips meet. You both taste that perfect spicy-sweet flavor, the way that’s so Frankie in your head. This might be the sweetest and softest man alive, you think to yourself, and goddamn, you’re lucky, Bucky.

His body radiates the heat of his love and stress and everything, completely melting into yours. You’re never going to stop doing this now that you’ve started. You’re never going a day without holding Frankie like this.

Your legs are firmly planted on either side of him, and Frankie moves his hands to grip your waist and pull you in closer. Shivering at the way he practically manhandles you, you moan into his lips, murmuring his name breathlessly. It’s like the most perfect melody, the way you say it. He mumbles your name back, your real name. Not Bucky.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself tight against him, running one hand through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He tastes like heaven, just as perfect as you’ve dreamed about for as long as you’ve known him. When you break away, you smile softly, admiring the way he’s panting beneath you. His head is tilted back to look at you on top of him, his eyes glazed over and cheeks warmed with pounding blood. You gulp and trace the side of his face with feather-light fingertips, admiring his beauty. “God, Francisco,” you murmur. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[rhaenyratargeryn]

Title: sense

Pairing: Adam x F!detective

Summary: just a little scenario I imagine absolutely happened at some point.

Notes: ao3 link

***

“Oh, thank god— Nate, please be the voice of reason here.”

The detective’s tone was one of intense exasperation, her hand rubbing across her eyes as she stood in the Warehouse kitchen opposite of Adam, who was appearing equally perturbed. A deep line had settled between his brows and he had crossed his arms at her words.

Nate suddenly regretted having not gone the other direction.

“Yes, please. As sense has seemed to have completely evaporated.” Adam countered, his eyes trailing over to Nate expectantly.

At a loss, Nate smiled faintly, “... what am I voicing upon?”

“She is putting herself in a position of unnecessary—”

“Adam doesn’t want me sleeping with my windows open!”

The detective erupts over Adam’s voice, earning a cool glare from the other man. Upon moving his gaze to meet Nate’s utterly bewildered one, his pale skin seemed to flush just a fraction. Realization of just how preposterous the detective’s explanation made him seem flitted across Adam’s eyes for the barest moment before he shoved it down deep.

“It is an issue of safety. Anyone could enter through that flimsy screen.”

“I’m on the second floor!”

“As if such a thing would be an issue for a supernatural.” Adam said, rising up taller, as if he’d won with that statement, “You would be safer staying here if you wished to sleep in such a way.”

“If supernaturals are coming to break into my apartment I don’t think glass or locks would be an issue either!” the detective said, throwing a hand up and out to the side in a gesture of utter annoyance.

Adam had no retort for that.

Nate wondered idly if they would notice if he slipped back out. He got his answer when Adam turned to him, eyes as near to pleading as the older vampire could get.

“She has a point,” Nate said slowly, gauging the way Adam’s expression shuttered.

“Fine.” Adam said with bite, “But do not expect us to come running when you place yourself purposefully in harm's way.”

He turned and exited the kitchen, the detective’s words following behind.

“It’s just a window! For goodness sake!”

Once it was obvious Adam had no intention of returning to the conversation, she sat down with a soft thump into one of the kitchen chairs, attempting to return to her coffee and breakfast with minor success.

“How on earth did this start?” Nate asked after a moment, moving to take a seat across from her with a rueful smile.

“I just mentioned how I was happy the weather was cooling down in the evenings… the air is nice and I sleep so much better at home when it gets all cozy like this.” the detective sighed, “And Adam well— was Adam about it.”

“He just cares.” Nate offered, an insufficient excuse for certain, “This is how he shows it.”

The detective looked doubtful, but did not question the honesty of Nate’s words.

--

There was no way she would stay at the warehouse tonight after that display. The detective returned to her own apartment, throwing open both her bedroom and living room windows the moment she arrived and enjoying the chilly air that had settled in the twilight hours.

She brewed a mug of tea and settled into her plush papasan chair, tucked a few pattern pillows out of the way and opened a book. It took awhile for her to turn her thoughts away from her own act of stubbornness, which had in turn put her back into the argument from that morning.

Theoretical arguments with Adam were a constant daydream, right next to the ones where he didn’t flinch when she reached out to touch his face.

It didn’t help that the novel was littered with romantic subtropes and finally, with a sigh, she closed it after darkness finally settled across the room. The detective closed the living room window a fraction, as was her usual routine and shut off the lights, heading to the bedroom.

That window she left wide open, changing into her pajamas even in full view. No one was typically out on that section of the street this late and she was high up enough not to worry about anyone getting too much of an eyeful. Even so, she changed quickly, keeping her bare back to the glass as she tugged on a large t-shirt.

After, she shut off the lights and curled into bed, sighing contentedly at the way the ceiling fan spread out the chilled, night scent of fresh clean air. It was nice after having to spend so much time keeping the heat out to huddle beneath the blankets and slowly drift off.

The detective had just fallen into a soft dream when her phone chimed. Groaning, she turned her face into her pillow.

The phone chimed again. And again. And then finally began to ring.

Throwing her blankets off, she fumbled for the device in the dark and answered.

“...speaking.” she mumbled, barely annunciating her title and name. On the other end, the familiar voice of a patrol officer greeted her.

“Hey, sorry to bug you so late. You got a sec?”

“Sure, sure.” she yawned.

“We keep getting calls from folks in your apartment block. They say there is some weirdo hanging around. Big hulking type. Got folks worried about break ins. Have you seen anything? I’m halfway across town so I figured I’d save the trip if it was nothing.”

The detective took a deep measured breath, held and let it out.

“It’s okay. I got this.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah. No problem.”

The officer thanked her profusely, apologized again for waking her and then once they hung up, the detective selected a number from her contacts and plopped back against her pillows.

The answer was quick.

“Commanding Agent Du Mortain.” came the clear, professional answer. Too clear. Too professional.

“Where are you?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I am patrolling.”

“Good, maybe you can help me then.”

“Is something wrong?” his voice lifted, the mask of disinterest fading.

“I got a call from an officer. Says a hulking, unscrupulous and unsavory character is loitering around my apartment parking lot.”

Silence.

“Have you seen anyone like that?” the detective continued, unable to hide the smile in her voice.

“Did you tell them it was handled?” came Adam’s terse, unamused response. The detective thought she heard the sound of his footsteps.

“Yes. Ya know, if you want to keep watch? In the future? Do it from inside.”

There was silence for a prolonged moment and then, the detective startled, sitting up and rushing to find the light at her bedside table at the sound that came from her hall.

“I am inside.” came Adam’s voice, both from the phone and the outside of her bedroom door, sounding way too smug.

The detective threw off her covers completely and marched to the door, throwing it open.

“As I said. Entirely unsound. You did not even hear me remove the screen—”

“Adam.” she said, voice terse and annoyed and tired. Whatever she hoped to say next was lost as her shoulders hunched forward and his expression softened a fraction.

It was then he seemed to note more fully her attire, standing before him in nothing but a thread-bare t-shirt that was so large it hung off one shoulder and a pair of boyshorts. The detective felt the sudden tension roil to the surface, warm and familiar and yet distant. Out of reach.

He swallowed thickly and the detective began to wonder just how long he had been outside her window.

“Just stay here… if you’re that concerned.” the detective said with a sigh, turning and crawling back into bed. She turned to look back at him, noting while his body was frozen his eyes had followed her every step of the way, blazing with vibrant green at the sight of her, half-dressed and lazing on the mattress.

“... I… I cannot.” Adam was at a loss, the prospect no doubt making his head spin and his heart hammer as intently as her own.

“You can. Since it isn’t all of the team, you should be able to find a place to sit out there.” she said with a nervous laugh, the spell breaking the moment Adam realized what it was she was offering. Tension rolled off his shoulders, relief in his exhaled breath.

“You meant in the living room.”

“Where else would I have meant?” the detective replied, making a point of lingering near one edge of the bed, leaving the side closest to him open and terribly inviting. For a moment she enjoyed watching the way his breath puffed from his lungs before catching. That tiny flicker of wanting that he snapped back up and hid down deep the moment it dared rear forward.

“I guess you could always bring a chair in here,” she said, yawning and stretching her arms above her head until the t-shirt rose up high on her waist, revealing the bare line of her thighs. She relaxed and watched Adam’s eyes follow the hem back down.

Without a word, Adam vanished from the doorway. For a moment, the detective felt her heart seize, worried she’d pressed too hard.

But in a moment he returned, one of the antique padded, high backed chairs from her small dining table in hand.

He set it by the window, making a point of glancing out over the parking lot before he sat down.

They lingered like that for a moment, the sound of insects, the soft breeze of the wind outside and the gentle whirl of the ceiling fan filling the silence.

“I’m going to turn the light off.” the detective warned quietly. Adam gave a nod. She leaned over and flicked off the switch, sitting for a moment in the darkness until her eyes adjusted and she could make him out.

He was watching her.

She settled under her blankets, stilling once she had become comfortable again and finding the sleep that had been right at the forefront of her thoughts suddenly illusive.

“...well, good night.” she said with a soft, nervous laugh. Her heart was beating fiercely in her chest. She wondered if he could hear it. No. She knew he could hear it. She willed herself to calm, letting her thoughts fade to the daydreams that helped ease her into sleep. Every once in a while she heard him shift, the sound of fabric, of the chair. His presence was a soothing one, even if it did also make her heart skip and patter in her breast.

It took awhile, but eventually her pulse settled and slowly she drifted back off to sleep.

--

The sound of her heart was like that of a rabbit caught in a snare at first, thrumming with beats and the flow of her blood, rippling like a stream. Adam had felt his own racing to match, falling in pace now as it settled and slowed.

He tried not to move. Not to make a sound. As if doing so would make his being here less— real. Less present.

It did not help.

It only took an hour or so before he could tell she was truly and wholly asleep, her soft breaths deep and even. At that point, Adam felt himself finally able to relax, able to set fully to the task of keeping a watch out over the complex.

This was why he preferred her to stay at the warehouse. Where he could stand watch without her ever knowing he was there. Which he did—every night she stayed with them. Distance made his chest ache, restrictive and demanding. Searching. As if his heart would escape his ribs if it could to seek her out, only calmed when she was near.

Adam knew this was not just fear for her safety. Knew it was deeper than that, but still refused to place the words that so obviously described the feeling to it.

But now, in the dark, in the quiet calm, he let them flit through his head.

He missed her when she was gone. Without reason. Without sense. Which was why he tried to attribute something rational, something vaguely resembling reason when he argued why she should remain at the warehouse. With them. With him.

This, Adam supposed, was suitable enough.

She shifted in her dreams, the blanket pulling from her legs as she clung to it. After a moment, she shivered. Adam stood, pulling one of the soft quilts from the bed out and laying it over her. He smoothed his hand down her leg from the knee, resting his palm on her ankle until she calmed once more.

He had to fight the urge to lift his hand, to retrace the soft path it had just taken. When the feeling was well under control, he returned to his spot by the window.

When the sun rose, Adam would be gone.

But for now, he closed his eyes and listened to her breathe.

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius. 

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin​ Sweet Cheeks. 

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked. 

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

 “Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

“Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.  

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

 And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations.  We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point. 

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured.  I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings.  I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator. 

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.  

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt.  I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.  

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

[collecting-stories]

Cramps - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: hiii! i am having horrible cramps rn and im alone so i have to go buy the stuff myself but i kinda always vomit o black out(?) and i have to wait for someone to help me aaAaaand i was thing if u can write something with JJ where he sees u like that and ask u whats wrong and he helps u and cute fluffly shi(maybe they arent dating but he has a crush on u and vise versa?)

A/N: I wanted to write this one right away when I saw it! Hope it helps you feel better!!

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

You pressed your face further into your pillow, closing your eyes and trying your hardest to ignore the sound of your phone buzzing on the end table above your head. Despite the weather outside and the heating pad wedged between your stomach and the back of the couch, you had a hoodie on. One you’d stolen from JJ the last time you’d gone night surfing with him. It was worn and cozy and you had the hood pulled up and the sleeves pawed around your hands. Your phone buzzed one more time and you groaned, finally reaching up blindly, knocking your hand against your water bottle, before you grabbed it.  

“Hello?” You laid your phone on top of your ear and closed your eyes, still half dazed from the warmth you were feeling.  

“Yo, where are you? We were supposed to meet like, 20 minutes ago.” JJ’s voice came through the phone, a little too loud.  

You had forgotten to text him when you woke up this morning and realized that hanging out was impossible. You had woken up to your period and cramps enough that getting from your bed to the couch was difficult enough. Your mom was already at work which meant you were home alone, a curse when you were feeling this sick.  

“I can’t,” you replied. “I have my period.” There was probably a time in middle school when you would have been too embarrassed to even utter the word period in front of JJ but you’d been friends long enough that you didn’t care about mentioning it. You’d been friends long enough too that JJ knew how truly awful your period could get.  

“Alright but you owe me a surf, John B’s fucking terrible.” He replied and you laughed as you heard John B in the background protesting JJ’s claims.

“Give me a few days, I’ll be out there schooling both of you.”

“Schooling? Does anyone even say that anymore?” He questioned.  

“Goodbye JJ, I'm hanging up.”

The worst part of being home alone was the fact that you had nothing you usually kept close. With your mom gone you could only get it if you left the house yourself and that was nearly impossible. The heat from the star shaped heating pad you’d bought based solely on cuteness was starting to cool down and you were beginning to regret not just buying the cheap one that plugged in to the wall. If you could just find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep you thought you might actually survive this absolute torture.  

You tucked your face into the hood of the sweatshirt, trying to see if any inch of it still smelled like JJ when the kitchen door opened with a bang.  

“Fuck,” you groaned, you were going to die in this god awful state.  

“Alright,” And just like that you were craning your neck to see JJ standing on the other end of the side table, looking down the couch at you, “I’ve got saltines, some chocolate cause Kie said chocolate was a must, pills, these giant ass bottles of ginger ale!” JJ held up a liter bottle, “Seagrams cause you’re a pain in the ass. And that CBD shit you like,” he waved the jar of muscle balm before tossing it at you.  

“You just hit me with that.” You grabbed the jar and tossed it back, missing him by a foot and spooking your cat.  

“Good job.”

“I thought you were going surfing?” You asked, pulling the heating pad from under JJ’s hoodie. “Also...heat this up for me?”  

He took the heating pad, disappearing into the kitchen while you tried to sit up on the couch. You reached over and took the jar of muscle balm, undoing the cap and sniffing it.  

“You want me to put in on for you?” JJ asked, coming back into the living room with the heating pad wrapped in a dish towel.  

The offer was too good to pass up and before you knew it you were laying on your back on the couch, hoodie pushed up enough that your stomach and lower abdomen were exposed. JJ sat on the edge of the couch, jar of muscle balm leaning against his thigh. He wiggled his fingers at you, smiling, “ready for my magic fingers?”

“Name of your sex tape.” You laughed.  

“God, get your head out of the gutter.” He joked, winking at you. You closed your eyes, muscles tensing for a fraction of a second when JJ first touched your stomach. He pressed his hand down gently, “relax.” He commanded and you did, relaxing as he kneaded the soft flesh of your stomach and lower abdomen, spreading the muscle balm.  

As you laid there you couldn’t help thinking about what Kiara had said to you before. She was convinced that JJ liked you. It seemed a bit farfetched to you, even now as you felt him adjust the heating pad on your stomach and pulled his hoodie down. JJ couldn’t like you, it was just that you were best friends, except he’d never done this kind of thing for Kiara.  

“When we go surfing-” you started to say, looking down the couch to where JJ had taken up residence, your feet in his lap. “After I’m not shark bait anymore-”

“Yeah?”

You took a deep breath. Ideally you would be dressed in a nice outfit, not close to death, but this was where you were and you didn’t want to keep wondering. Not when he remembered which episodes of Brooklyn 99 made you the happiest or what ginger ale brand you liked the best or any of the things he always seemed to know immediately. You wanted to know if Kiara was right.  

“You think it could just be us?”

“I know John B sucks at surfing but-”

“He does not!” You laughed, “Do you think it could be just us like, a date?”

“A date?”

“Yeah...I know this isn’t my best look but I really like you and, I don’t know, thought maybe you liked me too?”

JJ smiled, “yeah, yeah I do.” He looked over at you, “what are the chances you let me kiss you?”

“Oh no...I haven’t brushed my teeth.” You replied, closing your eyes again. You were jostled when JJ got up from the couch, knocking your feet off. “JJ, what’re you doing?” You didn’t bother trying to sit up this time as he disappeared upstairs.  

A moment later he appeared again, holding your toothbrush and a cup in his hands. “Huh? How about now?”

“God you’re so desperate.” You laughed, holding out your hands.  

-

taglist: @mellilla-rose @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @jolomez @timotaychalabae 

[egcdeath]

cabin fever

pairing: ransom x female!reader 

warnings: very cheesy and unrealistic. lots of fluff, your teeth might fall out. strangers to lovers

summary: when a nasty snow storm ruins your girls trip to a ski lodge, you have to... adapt to your interesting new roommate. 

word count: 2.7k

a/n: and there was only one bed…. oh my god there was only one bed…. 

Come on, they said. A girls trip would be fun, they said. You all needed a break from your routine and work, they said. Who doesn’t wanna kick off their New Year on vacation, they said. Of course, that was all before you arrived at a remote, overbooked resort in the middle of nowhere, hours after your friends’ flights had been cancelled due to an incoming horrendous snow storm.

Now, you stood near the counter in the lobby, biting back tears as you began to desperately rake your brain for solutions to the bizarre issue you were facing.

“God damnit, don’t you know who I am?” a deep voice at the desk thundered.

“Of course, Mr. Drysdale, but you know that we can’t just give this room up to you in conditions like this,” the poor hotel employee told him, trying to keep his composure. “We have way too many clients for you to get a room like this all by yourself!” After hearing this remark, this ‘Mr. Drysdale’ character, who didn’t seem much older than you were, grit his teeth, leaned his head back, and groaned exasperatedly.

You tried not to be too nosy, but it was nearly impossible not to look over at the dramatic scene that was playing out next to you. A grown man, throwing some sort of hissy fit about not getting a room. Luckily for you, he glanced in your direction at the perfect moment to make an uncomfortable eye contact, and suddenly, his annoyed look turned into a devilish smirk.

Oh no.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m not here all by myself. In fact, my girlfriend is right over there,” he tilted his head to gesture to you. Oh no. This was much worse than you anticipated. When you saw that smirk, you thought that maybe he’d hit on you, maybe even catch you at the bar and make some crude offer to you. You didn’t think he’d be using you in order to get a room.

“Oh, I-” you stuttered, not even knowing where to begin. What the hell was going on? You could barely process the last 5 hours of your life, let alone the scenario you’d just been tossed into.

“Alright, Mr. Drysdale. Sorry about the inconvenience.” The hotel employee didn’t even bother hiding his annoyance as he looked down and began to type on the computer. The man looked back over to you, gave you a little chuckle, then moved a bit closer to you so that he could wrap an arm around you.

You were honestly at a loss for words. What the fuck was happening? Maybe you were asleep. There was no way that this was all real. You were incapable of fighting this situation, or even arguing with this man. To be honest, he was pretty handsome. And it seemed like you two were getting one of the last rooms in the whole lodge, so at least you wouldn’t be sleeping on a couch in the lobby until the snow storms stopped.

“Alright, Hugh, Here’s your key. 2C.” The employee bit the inside of his cheek, enjoying the tiny win of calling the bothersome man a name he hated. Hugh? Really? You thought to yourself while rolling your suitcase away, and keeping up the act of being some stranger’s girlfriend until the pair of you reached the elevator.

As you two stood in silence, the weight of your actions began to sink in. What the hell did you just sign yourself up for? For all you know, this Hugh dude could be a murderer. Or a rapist. Or a crazy murderer rapist. You began to envision your name as the title of some True Crime podcast. ‘The Ski Lodge Slaughter of Y/N L/N.’ You began to feel yourself sweat under your winter coat.

“So, your name?” Hugh asked you casually, as if he hadn’t taken you more or less against your will. He basically kidnapped you. Oh god, ‘The Kidnapping and Killing of Y/N.’ Hugh looked down at you and quirked a brow. “My God, loosen up. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” He laughed. You debated whether or not to even tell this man your real name, but in a split irrational decision, you blurted it out.

“Y/N,” you said, then grimaced after. “Hey, don’t try anything funny on my guy,” you warned, trying to sound tough, but probably not sounding like it. “I have pepper spray on me, and I know your full name. No funny business, Hugh Drysdale.” You warned.

You watched as Hugh’s face went through a rollercoaster of emotions, but the general theme of which being amusement. You swore he stifled a laugh as the two of you exited the elevator and walked through the rather cozy halls. The pair of you stopped in front of a pine door labelled 2C.

“How about you call me Ransom,” he told you before opening the door to your home for at least the next week.

----

You spent the first few minutes in your suite looking around at all the luxuries it offered. It was essentially an apartment, and saying you were impressed was an understatement. The space was truly beautiful, with views like nothing you’d ever seen before. The master bedroom overlooked a mountain, the bathroom was massive and gorgeous, the balcony contained a hot tub, and the living room held a massive fireplace. There was only one problem.

There was just one bed.

Maybe you could sleep in the living room or something. It was definitely large enough. You were simmering deep in your thoughts while staring out the main window in the living room when you heard the words of your new roommate.

“It’s nice right?” He asked while coming to stand next to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“We used to come here every year, you know.”

“Oh really?” you replied, trying to sound intrigued in order to stay on his good side in the event that he actually was a murderer. “Like, you and your family? Or like, you and your friends..?”

“My family,” he looked away from the window and at you. “I can assure you, it’s always this nice.”

You looked up at him and tried to ignore the fact that you felt like you were a character in a Hallmark movie. “Why’d you stop?” you inquired, and he shrugged before turning away. You honestly felt kinda bad for the guy, even if he was just a random stranger. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I was supposed to be here with my friends. But their flights got cancelled because of some impending snow storm.”

You swore you heard a faint chuckle as Ransom began to walk into the bedroom. “That is pretty funny,” he confirmed before you heard the door close. Rude. You thought to yourself, before sitting down on the sofa in the middle of the room, and trying to find a show to hold you over.

----

The flight must’ve taken more out of you than you initially thought, because you woke up early in the morning with a blanket lazily draped over you, and a sharp pain in your back. You dug into your pocket and checked the time on your partially charged phone. Unsurprisingly, it was way-too-early-to-be-awake-o’clock. Damn jet lag. You tossed the blanket off yourself and figured that if you were awake, you may as well be eating something good. Shuffling into the kitchenette, you found a room service menu, and ordered enough for a small army. It wasn’t like you were paying for the food in the first place.

Sometime after your food arrived, Ransom walked into the room as well, and sat across from you at the table. “Morning babe, what’d you get us?” He asked playfully before popping a strip of bacon into his mouth.

You couldn’t help but to quirk your lips. You were kind of annoyed that he hadn’t even attempted to offer you the bedroom and left you to sleep on an uncomfortable couch, but his playful demeanor was infectious. “Basically everything, babe, hope you don’t mind the tab.” You gave him a little smirk as you lifted a mug of coffee to your lips.

“Not a problem, babe. How’d you know I’d wake up with an appetite this big?” He continued to banter with you.

“I just know my baby so well,” you giggled, then abruptly stopped when you noticed Ransom was not exactly laughing along with you. “Uhm, I’m gonna go take shower,” you said quickly before standing up, pushing your chair in, then escaping to the bathroom.

----

Your awkward interaction had been about a day ago, but luckily you hadn’t had any moments like that since. Some time in the afternoon, you sat back down on the sofa and cuddled into your own little corner. A bit later, Ransom joined you on the opposite end of the couch, and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence while watching reruns of classic Christmas movies ever since.

You were honestly shocked at how fast you and Ransom warmed up to each other, and how quickly you’d let down your (nearly nonexistent) guard. But to be fair, what girl had the willpower to resist the kinds of baby blues in his eyes? And his slightly overly confident, yet funny personality was quickly growing on you. Not to mention the way he was wearing the shit out of every sweater he put on. You couldn’t help but to daydream about the man while a pot in the kitchenette warmed up the milk for your hot chocolates.

“Hurry up, babe,” he whined from the sofa, to which you rolled your eyes. What a brat.

“On my way, dear,” you giggled, before finishing up the drinks and bringing him a mug. “You know, I really didn’t know what to expect when you basically kidnapped me,” you stated while sitting down.

“Haven’t you had fun? I mean, I know we can’t really go out in this kind of weather, but I like to think of myself as a fun guy.” he took a sip of the drink, then reeled at the heat’s assault on his tongue.

“I mean, I never really saw myself having as much fun with a stranger as I did when we played Uno last night,” you gave Ransom a shy smile.

“That was pretty great,” he nodded in agreement, and returned your smile with a lopsided grin.

“You know, I really expected you to be a dick. I’ve never seen someone make as big of a scene as you did in the lobby those days ago,” you snickered, then let your laugh die away when you saw Ransom press his lips together, furrow his brows, and stand. “What?” you asked with concern laced in your voice.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said dryly before walking off to the bedroom. This man and his Goddamn mood swings. You set down your mug, and cuddled into the quilt covering your body before attempting to go to sleep.

--

You awoke to a loud thud, and the sensation of goosebumps prickling all over your skin as a visceral reaction to the frigid cold that had suddenly taken over the suite.

“What the fuck,” you’d heard a groggy voice say from the bedroom. Ransom shuffled out of the room, and stood in the hall leading to the living room while pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Did you do this?” he slurred slightly, words heavy from sleep.

“No!” you pouted. “I just woke up in the same freezer as you!” You sat up, and stretched your arms while you tried to think of a reason why it was suddenly so cold in your suite. Maybe the employees were playing a prank on their least favorite tenant. Maybe the furnace was broken. Either way, you were both cold as hell, and couldn’t find a solution. You only had so many blankets. Suddenly, something came to you.

“Go back to your room, asshole,” you said quietly before wiping the sleep out of your eyes. Ransom obliged, and you began your search for as many toasty clothing articles you could manage. Luckily, you were smart when packing, and made sure to bring plenty of cable knit sweaters with you. In your tired haze, you clumsily threw the articles of clothing on, then began your trek to the bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” Ransom asked while pulling on another sweater, seemingly having the same idea as you.

“Get in the bed,” you demanded, before flopping in the bed next to him and yawning. You nearly moaned at the comfort of a real bed, rather than a sofa, but filtered yourself. “Cuddle me. We’ll be like little penguins.” You whispered sleepily, already feeling more relaxed at the heat radiating off your bed partner.

There was not one word of complaint coming from Ransom as he threw a strong arm around you, then buried his nose in your hair. “‘Night, Y/N,” he told you, his voice trailing off.

Even in your sleepy haze, your heart rate quickened when you realized that the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

----

In the morning, you woke up to a soft, yet empty bed. The heat was now clearly back on, and the heat was definitely back on in your face when you began to recall last night’s events.

----

That day was more of the same for you, watching shitty Rom Coms, over-indulging on room service, playing endless rounds of chess, and even more card games. Neither of you addressed the furnace sized elephant in the room of your late-night cuddle session, and you honestly hoped to keep it that way.

Sometime between a game of Solitaire and Crazy, Stupid, Love, you fell fast asleep, and were surprised when you woke up without the crick in your back, and deeply inhaling the scent of pine.

After you’d drifted off, Ransom had decided to carry you into his bedroom. You just looked way too peaceful to have to spend another night in your sofa hole. He set you down on the bed, pulled the comforter over your body, then gave you a quick peck on your forehead.

“What the fuck,” He wondered quietly out loud to himself.

----

Cabin fever was beginning to eat at you and Ransom, and apparently, there was no better way to battle that than to drink excessively. It started when you added a bit of Bailey’s to your hot chocolates, and only escalated as you spent the night raiding the minibar.

After a few too many shots, you grabbed your phone and hit shuffle on a random playlist on your phone. “Come dance with me,” you giggled, pushing his hand away from a bottle of Grey Goose, and grabbing it instead. The pair of you stumbled over each others’ feet for a few minutes, before waltzing into the bedroom together and plopping clumsily onto the bed as a unit, with you straddling Ransom’s thin waist.

“I can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you,” you leaned down and spoke into his face. “Imagine if I wasn’t so dumb, and I didn’t go along with your stupid plan to get this room,” your nose was basically pressed into Ransom’s at this point. You looked deep into his eyes, and he was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he commented out of the blue, reaching up to rub his thumb on your flushed cheek.

“Shut up,” you averted your gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He asked raspily.

“Yeah,” you agreed, setting your hand on top of his hand that sat on your cheek.

The sound of fireworks being shot off in the distance briefly caught both of your attention, leading you to look out the window for a moment, before looking back at each other.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” you were quickly pulled into a sweet, passionate kiss.

And honestly, you couldn’t think of a better way to start the year.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

I can totally see “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” In dancing in the dark in future chapters😲😅 Dancing in the stars is one of my favourite fanfics!!!😍💙

note: i was saving this prompt for something else but I figured y'all deserve a reward for being so patient with my writing block. hope you'll like it.

something like love

Their cozy little corner of the library was deserted that afternoon, filled with the scent of new books. The dim lighting in the back would not have been very conducive for reading if it wasn't for the window which allowed sunlight to seep in. The room itself was adequately warm despite the chill outside—or maybe that warmth was a result of staring at a very pleasant sight.

Aelin's cheeks flushed further when she looked at him again.

Rowan looked so damn nice, books didn't hold much interest for her. His own green eyes were fixed on his book and his silver hair, always so immaculately set were a little tousled today, falling on his forehead. He leaned forward in his seat, emphasizing the muscles in his arms and she had this itch to run a hand over them and see if they were really that—

"You do know staring is rude, right?" Rowan asked, looking up from his book.

Aelin hoped the dim lighting would conceal her blush. "I got bored so I was trying to list the number of faults in your face. It's horribly, uh, assymetrical?"

He leaned back in his seat, arms folded and watched her with a faintly amused smile. "And how many did you find?"

None at all. "Too many to count," she said with a smile. "You interrupted me before I could finish."

Rowan smirked, making her squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. He always looked at her the way she imagined a cat would look at a mouse, right before she made him her dinner. If only he wasn't so hot, thought she. But he was hot and brooding and-and they were barely even friends and god, how was she going to survive the whole last year being friends with him?

Aelin could never be subtle.

Rowan said, "If you want, we can leave now."

"Oh, sure," said she, trying not to sound disappointed; she had thought she could at least stare at him for some time.

So they walked out of the library, arms almost brushing and her face redenned.

Aelin was always too aware of his presence by her side; it only served to fluster her further, especially on days like these, when they were hanging out together—just the two of them.

"Aelin, you're not ill, are you?" he asked.

Aelin tried to sound nonchalant. "I am not, it's just, I don't, that is, I'm tired, I think."

He frowned. "If you'd told me before, we could have left already—"

"I'm not that tired."

"You are! You should see your face, you look so flushed—I think you might have fever. You feel hot too, I mean, that is, your temperature. Not that you don't, I mean, we should go home, yes, home." Poor man looked like he wished the earth would swallow him just then.

"Yeah. Cool. Awesome," she squeaked out, "Let's do that."

The tips of Rowan's ears had turned red. His cheeks coloured too, making him look almost boyish.

Rowan avoided looking at her and they walked on in silence until he said, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

Maybe it was the fact that Aelin had been thinking about him, or that she didn't expect him to talk at all and he broke the silence suddenly or maybe it was just that she had been so flustered for the last hour and things were still so awkward but Aelin stumbled, dropped her phone and turned even redder. Even his deep, baritone voice is sexy, she thought, irritated. No one should be allowed to be that perfect.

Rowan frowned again, bending down to pick up her phone. Aelin hoped she wasn't staring at his ass too obviously.

"I really don't think you're fine, Aelin, we ought to go—" her phone lit up.

Rowan raised an eyebrow, confusing Aelin's already addled brain. What could he possibly be looking so smug about—oh! Aelin was thoroughly horrified to know he was looking at her lockscreen.

At his face on her lockscreen.

Fuck. Fuck. Just—fuck.

"Am I your lockscreen?" he asked.

She couldn't read his face.

"You weren't supposed to see that," she lied, forcing a fake chuckle. "It was a dare, I forgot to change it after it completed."

Rowan still had that inscrutable expression on his face.

Aelin bit her lip.

He looked into her eyes, then at her lips and then back into her eyes.

Aelin's heart thumped so fast, so loud, she was convinced it would stop working any second now.

Rowan kissed her.

Her brain shortwired.

She had convinced herself this was impossible so thoroughly that at first, she could hardly feel anything but shock.

And then it was over.

Aelin could have cried in frustration. This time, she leaned in for a kiss. There's no way it's a dream, she thought. No kiss in my daydreams felt so wonderful.

Her hands travelled up his arms, then she ran them through his air, tugging at a fistful of them. His own hands explored hers and came to rest on her ass, pulling her as close as they could be in the middle of a street with layers of clothing between them.

It was a good thing the street was practically deserted in the afternoons.

"Still want to go home?" he asked.

She pointed out, "You suggested it; not me." The effect of the accusation was ruined by the giddy smile on her face.

"Maybe we should return back to that library after all," he suggested.

Aelin made a face. "Hmm, I don't know... unlike you, I do have an extremely busy schedule."

"You should talk less," he said and kissed her.

"If this is how you'll silence me, I think I should talk more—oh." Both of them found a better use for their mouths and all conversation came to an end for now.

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

@thesirenwashere // @courtofjurdan // @little-crow-corvere // @the-dark-swan-writes // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @aelinchocolatelover // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @curlyredqueen06 // @moondancer-204 // @thesurielships // @witchling-leonor // @ladywitchling // @amren-courtofdreams // @ifinallygavein // @jlinez // @faequeenaelin // @df3ndyr // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @superspiritfestival // @xx-fiona-xx // @stardelia // @maastrash // @miihlovesnoone // @sanakapoor // @abookishfreak // @maddymelv // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @morganofthewildfire // @bellamyblakru // @theilliumbluebell10 // @woollycat22

let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[stardancerluv]

New Developments

Part 7B

Summary: You can be cuddly and sweet when the unexpected happens

The stars twinkled in the clear dark sky, a giggle poured from you as you felt Bill’s goatee brush your knuckles when he gave them a kiss.

You slid him a look and smiled broadly. “That tickles, mister.”

He gave you an impish smile. “Can’t help myself. I was getting jealous of the night sky.”

You gently rolled over to his side of the roof. “You were getting jealous, huh?”

He nodded, smiling while still holding your hand.

You made a soft sound. “That was the best way to distract me.”

He chuckled. “I had hoped it would be.”

“Bill, kiss me.”

It was one of those moments you had read about or dare say daydreamed about; making out with your boyfriend underneath the stars.

Somehow you found yourself under him as he continued to kiss you. It was delightful. One of his hands slipped under your shirt, you arched against him and kissed him deeper. But then what happened next, made the two of you erupt into a fit of giggles.

He smiled down at you, breathless as he came to rest on his elbow beside you. “I suppose I better feed you, huh?”

You giggled. “I am so embarrassed.”

He bent down, slipped your shirt up ever so slightly and gave it a kiss. “I forgive it.”

You giggled and wiggled harder under his kiss. “Bill, oh my god!” You giggled harder.

He only smiled, “What?” Then placed two more kisses. “All right, where shall we go?”

******

There was this cute little café you had been eager to try. When you pulled up, you realized it was empty. Inwardly you were relieved but also upset that no one would see the two of you. You pushed the thought away because to be honest, you really wanted to show him off.

With your fingers interlaced not long after, you and Bill entered the café. You chose a cozy corner and sat next to each other.

“Isn’t this a hang out for the students?” Bill whispered as he leaned in close. Your hands rested on each other’s thighs.

“Yes. Are you worried more young ladies may find you attractive?” You gently teased.

“Your opinion is the only one that matters.”

You flushed. “Oh you.” And you kissed is cheek then.

*****

While waiting for your sandwiches and soup to show, the two of you got lost in him telling you his plans to visit his daughter for brunch this weekend. It made you sad to hear she was acting out. “You’ll get through to her. It can’t be easy just being around Barbara.”

He nodded. “I plan to tell her about the room I put together for her. I think at one point she was worried my new place was just going to be a bachelor’s pad.”

You pressed your lips together. “Barbara is like determined to make you look bad.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m the bad one because I needed to get out.” He sighed.

“Bill.” You squeezed his thigh and leaned in close. “You are an amazing person. You will be in a better place now, not only for yourself but for your daughter too.”

“You think so?”

You nodded. “Yes. You are already much happier.”

He leaned back and smiled at you. “Well, you do work miracles.”

You flushed harder. “Only because I want what’s best for you, for us.” You smiled.

For another time that night, you were drawn in and the two of you shared a kiss.

“Y/N, is that you?”

You both froze mid kiss, your eyes met. The time had come, it was finally time for you to introduce Bill as well yours. You pressed a soft kiss before pulling back. You swallowed, squeezing his hand under the table.

“Hi Vera.” You said brightly.

You watched your friend look from you to Bill and back again.

Taking her all in, you could see how she nervously moved the fingers of her one hand as something shifted in her eyes.

“Is this the one who you said has gotten your heart racing?” She finally asked.

You nodded, from the corner of your eyes you could see Bill look from her to you and back at her.

“Yup.”

A huge smile came over her face. “I knew one of these days you’d fall for one of those romantic types.” She stepped closer. “Are you Dr. Fordham?” She extended her hand.

He nodded and a gentle smile came over his face. “You can call me Bill.” He took her hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Bill.” She looked back at you. “Byron or one of the Brontes?”

“Byron.”

She giggled behind the hand she had just shook Bill’s hand with. “I knew it. May I join the two of you?”

You looked at each other and shared a brief nod.

“Great!” Then she turned to Bill. “My girl Y/N here is a real softy despite having her main focus in History. So you be good with her heart, all right?”

Bill chuckled. “I plan on it. She had been doing good by mine.”

“Good. Because just so you know, I am pre-med.”

“Vera.” You rolled your eyes.

She hooted with laughter. “Look you don’t have any older brothers, someone has to tell him they are keeping an eye on him.” She laughed again.

You leaned in close to Bill but spoke loud enough so she could hear you. “She thinks since she is one year older than me, she can be like a big older sister.”

“But I am.” She grins.

Bill smiled. “Well in all fairness, we all need that one friend who keeps an eye on things.” He looked over at Vera warmly.

You rolled your eyes but giggled. “I am in for it now.”

Then all of you laughed.

@thebeckyjolene @blondekel77 @mrskenobi19 @reiaux

[luninosity]

And - final @evanstanweek fic!

Prompt 7, “holidays,” this time...which, um...became International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And implied imminent sex, and piratical roleplay, and terrible, terrible jokes. And maybe something like a marriage proposal. 1,490 words, no warnings.

Read at AO3 here! Or here on tumblr below.

#

“Hey, Seb,” Chris says.

 Sebastian, lazily settled against Chris’s chest and halfway through reading a script for a potential upcoming Shakespeare adaptation, looks up and says, “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”

 Chris laughs, and retorts with, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” because Chris knows Much Ado About Nothing decently well, too. “Know what day it is?”

 “Saturday?”

 “Yeah, but also International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Scott just sent me like ten terrible pirate jokes. What does a pirate use his cellphone for?”

 “Oh my god,” Sebastian says.

 “Booty calls.”

 “No.”

 “Come on, that was awesome. All of these…arrrr.”

 “I’ll divorce you,” Sebastian threatens, not seriously because he’s extremely comfortable right here in morning sunshine on the pillowy sofa with Chris at his back and Dodger draped over their feet.

 “You like terrible puns,” Chris says, “I know you do,” and then, “wait, we’re not even married!”

 “Exactly,” Sebastian retorts, with emphasis, and goes back to squabbling Shakespearean lovers.

 “You’re thinking about us being married.” Chris points a finger at him. “You love me. And the terrible puns.”

 “If you say anything about a Jolly Roger,” Sebastian says, “we’re not having sex for like a week.”

 “Can I ask if you’re prepared to be boarded?”

 Sebastian sighs, sits up, and kisses the love of his life, mostly because that’s always a good distraction. It works like a charm; Chris dives into kissing him and being kissed with every drop of enthusiasm that makes up that huge rainbow-hued exuberant heart.

 Kind of unfortunately, Sebastian’s head also briefly pictures Chris in a pirate’s hat. With a parrot.

 He resolutely ignores that image, and climbs into Chris’s lap, instead.

  Around lunchtime, Chris asks what he feels like as far as food. Sebastian opens his mouth, and then Chris says, “If we were pirates we could get barr-beque,” and Sebastian throws a couch-pillow at him.

 Chris apologizes for that one, though he’s laughing. Sebastian sighs.

 They get pizza, in the end.

  “Hey, Seb,” Chris says later, as they’re turning toward home, out with Dodger in the afternoon breeze, wandering around under trees like ruffled green dancers beneath a big blue sky.

 “Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, hand held securely in Chris’s.

 “Why couldn’t the pirates play cards?”

 “Because the captain was standing on the deck,” Sebastian says.

 Chris’s whole face lights up. “You know that one?”

 Sebastian narrows eyes at him. “It was the logical answer!”

 “Why’re you anti-pirate?”

 “I’m actually not,” Sebastian says. “I’m kind of pro-pirate. Plundering, specifically. Getting, um, pillaged behind that tree.”

 “I love your ideas,” Chris agrees, and pushes him up against a friendly tree trunk and kisses him and gets hands all over him, pinning his wrists to tree-bark, sneaking under his shirt, pushing between Sebastian’s thighs, with Chris’s body large and hot and hard and adoring and pressed up against him. They make out in the woods until they’re both breathless and giddy and Sebastian’s about one caress away from coming in his pants, laughing, clinging to Chris, a leaf in his hair and mud on his boots, loving everything about his life.

  Chris kind of gives up on the talk-like-a-pirate day jokes, after that. Possibly this is because Sebastian’s distractions via sex have worked, or possibly not; either way, Chris seems apologetic about it, and even makes dinner, one of his mom’s cozy classic pasta recipes. He also opens a new bottle of decently expensive red wine Sebastian hadn’t known they had, and grabs the space-themed wineglass, the one etched with tiny stars.

 “I don’t mind your terrible pirate puns,” Sebastian says. Chris prefers beer, he knows.

 “Yeah, I know. I don’t know.” Chris shrugs. “Just felt like being nice to you.”

 “Why pirate day or whatever it is, again?”

 Chris shrugs again. “Just kinda fun? Random?”

 Sebastian considers Chris’s face, and the wineglass, and his own love. And then looks down at his toes, and tells Chris, “I’m wearing the wrong socks, then.”

 “Huh?”

 “Y’know, for the whole pirate thing. They should be, what…arrr-gyle?”

 “Oh my god,” Chris says, “I love you, I fucking love you, Seb.”

 “I might need more wine,” Sebastian says. “Especially if it’s from the…sand bar.” It’s the actual worst joke he’s ever made.

 Chris starts laughing so hard he has to grab the counter, and also Sebastian’s shoulder.

 Sebastian grins. Even his socks feel smug.

  They’re too full after pasta to do much about pillaging, so they flop down on the sofa and watch a documentary about Mars for a while. Chris gets a fire going, and the wind purrs outside, and Dodger’s snoring in his bed, and it’s so domestic and so perfect that Sebastian’s eyes get a little prickly and his heart feels a little shaky. Sometimes he still can’t believe it: being here, being part of Chris’s life. Himself, Sebastian Stan. Loved so deeply and so well.

 Because he loves Chris so damn much, he leans over to bite Chris’s shoulder. Chris grins and pets his hair, and even tugs slightly, because they both know how that dominance goes right to Sebastian’s head and stomach and happy cock; it does now, too, as usual.

 “You want me to do something about that,” Chris beckons, “maybe take care of you a little, if you’re needing some attention, Seb?” and his voice turns all low and rumbly and commanding, and fuck yeah, but:

 “One sec,” Sebastian announces, and hops up, and runs to their bedroom. He’s got a plan.

 He doesn’t have a whole lot that he can work with as far as costumes, pirates not having been a feature of most of his random daydreams, but he’s come up with a few ideas. A loose open white shirt, skinny black pants, a scarf tied around his waist. Some eyeliner. Some of his older jewelry, chunky extravagant rings and necklaces. He grins at himself in the mirror: some sort of haphazard pirate-steampunk-twink grins right back.

 He runs back out to the living room, where Chris is sitting up and being kind of puzzled, though that expression shifts the second Sebastian pops back in. Chris groans, “You’re just doing this to fuck with me, now, aren’t you…”

 “I was kind of hoping you’d be doing the fucking,” Sebastian says helpfully. “You know. On board with that. You can, um, come bury your…treasure…right here.”

 “Jesus,” Chris mutters, but he’s shaking his head, smiling, trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay, point made. Got it. Aye, captain. Or something.”

 “You’re right,” Sebastian says. “This is fun. Come claim my booty. Your booty. However that works. I’m all yours anyway.” He is. Body, heart, soul: everything he’s got, everything he is. He’s Chris’s.

 “I love you.” Chris gets up and comes over, hands settling on Sebastian’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “Where’d you find the scarf?”

 “It’s an old one. I thought maybe you could tie me up with it. Bend me over the bed—the railing, the captain’s bunk, whatever—and have your way with me.”

 “Are you the pirate, or am I?”

 “Maybe I’m your captive,” Sebastian considers. “You know, the dashing daring pirate adventurer that you keep chasing, good upright naval officer that you are, and you’ve finally caught me.”

 “And I’m about to do everything I can think of to you,” Chris jumps in. “Make you beg for mercy. Make you bend over for me, and spread those pretty legs. Make you take my cock, and like it.” His hand lifts Sebastian’s chin, fingers biting down: not too hard, and he’s grinning, eyes made of wicked loving conspiratorial blue. “That what you had in mind?”

 “Totally,” Sebastian says. “I mean, aye. Yarr. Yo, ho, ho, and rum, and all that. I think I like your holiday. Um. Chris?”

 “Yeah?” Chris’s thumb strokes his cheek, too gently for an angry naval officer. “Somethin’ you need, before I haul you off to my cabin?”

 “What I said earlier,” Sebastian says, “about being married to you…about us getting married…I mean, this isn’t me asking, it’ll be way more perfect whenever that happens, don’t worry, but…I just wanted to say…yeah. I do think about that. I kind of think about that a lot. I want all the weird random holidays with you. Forever.”

 Chris’s smile’s so wide and bright that it fills up the world, every fantasy and every holiday all rolled into one expression. His hand’s still cupping Sebastian’s face; the other comes to rest on Sebastian’s hip, over the scarf, with something like reverence. He says, “Guess what, Seb.”

 “Something about pirates and being a good…mate?”

 “Well, yeah, obviously that. My mate.” Chris leans in to kiss him; Sebastian’s entire body thrills to the claiming. “But also…we’ve been pretty much thinking the same things, about that. If you were wondering. I want all the weird random holidays and terrible puns and fucking perfect pirate role-play, forever, with you.”

[headachecat]

why do we not talk about muriel x asra possibilities

we all know asra wants nothing more than for muriel to find love and happiness, and WHAT IF that happiness could be found in one another?

what if

the beginning

growing up together on the streets brought them close, as they only had one another, Muriel spending sleepless nights, so Asra could rest peacefully and unafraid, tugging him close under his cloak, as it was one of a few things that could keep them both warm

he observed Asra’s deep breathing for hours, closing eyes to feel the slight twitching of his body and petting his arm to ease the nightmares

Muriel sometimes found himself asleep at dawn, as tiredness took him over. Asra would not wake him up in the morning, hugging him tightly and making sure he’s resting well

the world

as they grew up and eventually both found ways to cope with their reality, after escaping Lucio’s coliseum, Muriel stayed hidden in the forest and Asra moved on, traveling.

he would often come back to Muriel’s hut, the only place that would actually feel like home, quiet and cozy. he would bring so many things from all around the world, his eyes shining bright as he put them on the table one by one for Muriel to see.

Muriel nodded at many of them, taking more pleasure from Asra’s excitement rather than the trinkets he brought. he would listen for hours to Asra’s stories, that calmed him down and made him imagine how the world would be if things happened differently.

there were times when Asra would offer to show Muriel the Oasis, where they could spend time and explore, but Muriel declined each time. he had his own way of doing that. daydreaming was Muriel’s escape, even though his body still confined within the hut’s walls, his mind roaming freely, unafraid.

there was a day when Asra’s eyes were shining so bright, as he explained that he finally found someone he can teach magic and Muriel smiled softly, looking away.

the death

when the Apprentice died, Asra was gone. Muriel dreaded the day of his arrival. he would come to the Docks at night, closing his eyes, as he sat down on a brick wall, facing the sea. he would breathe in the smell of the water, shivers running down his spine. Inanna could feel it, as she laid her head on his laps, whining softly. he would then observe the Lazaret from afar, his head spinning with worry for what was to come.

when Asra learned what happened, Muriel was in the forest, resting under a tree, with Inanna tucked under his cloak. he could feel the tension in the air even before Asra arrived. he waited patiently, observing the lake, as lily pads floated slowly on its surface.

Asra found him in the evening. Muriel could hear him approaching, slightly turning his head towards him. Asra looked terrible, as his clothes were dirty with ash, soil smudged on his face, swollen eyes looking blindly in front of him. He fell to his knees next to Muriel, before resting against the tree, with his breath shaking and runny nose.

Muriel watched him for some time, before turning towards him.

“I am so sorry” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on Asra’s cheek. Asra covered his mouth, breaking down in tears, sharp breaths escaping his throat.

Muriel couldn’t bare to see him like that. For the first time it seemed like Asra did not have answers. He did not have control over what happened. He was so, so small, curled up under a tree, shaking with cries. Muriel closed his eyes with a longer breath, as he reached for Asra’s shoulder, touching it softly. He could feel the warmth from underneath the shirt, as he petted it gently. It was the first time in a long time they touched. And it was as soft as Muriel remembered from when they were kids.

Asra looked up at him with eyes filled with tears, cheeks red and dirty. He moved slightly closer, as Muriel’s hand fell on his back.

“Can I- please—“ he breathed out, choking with whimpers. Muriel nodded after a while and brought him even closer, letting Asra’s head rest on his chest. He leaned back against the tree, as Asra wrapped arms around his waist and cried into his skin. “Thank you. Thank you”

Muriel held him for what felt like forever and he did not mind it for a moment

the change

Asra stayed at the hut for a couple of days after arrival. Muriel was more than happy to give him the bed, as he himself lied in front of the fire place, holding Inanna close. He stayed awake some time after Asra fell asleep in the evening, to hear his breathing.

Muriel would get up early, hunt, make breakfast. Asra would awake by the time he was cooking, usually jumping out of the bed to help, clean up and keep him company. Muriel enjoyed these moments, listening to Asra’s comments on the weather outside. It seemed like it was the only topic Asra wanted to talk about and Muriel did not mind it. They would sit outside for breakfast, sharing one pan and making small, meaningless remarks about the clouds. It made Asra smile.

On the third day, Muriel rested in front of the fire place earlier than usual, tired from the intensity of the day’s chores. Asra sat down on the bed, but did not lie down, watching him quietly.

“It doesn’t looks comfortable”

Muriel looked at him briefly.

“It is enough”

“I can sleep there today”

“It is fine”

Asra smiled softly, before moving closer to Muriel and sitting next to the fire.

“Remember how we used to sleep in the forest in front of the fire?”

Muriel nodded, observing Asra closely. The shadows dances on his face, eyes shining as he looked at the fire. Asra’s back slightly brushed against Muriel’s knees. Muriel moved a little, making more space for them both.

They stayed quiet for a long time, just enjoying the warmth and each other’s company. Muriel turned on his side eventually. Asra followed, lying down next to him. Their shoulders touched for a second, before Asra moved away. Muriel let out a short breath. He did not know why, but he missed that feeling. The softness of Asra’s shirt. So, he moved closer, shoulders brushing against each other again.

Asra smiled slightly, looking up at Muriel, but he avoided their gaze. They both acknowledged the contact. They both enjoyed it.

In the morning, Muriel woke up to Asra lying on him, white hair tickling his cheek. He blushed severely, looking around the room. He couldn’t move. He did not want Asra to wake up. He could see the ash spilling on the floor from the fireplace and he sighed quietly. Uncertain, he wrapped his arm around Asra, moving them closer and further away from the ash, eventually laying them fully on top of himself. Asra murmured and breathed out, but did not wake up. He cuddled up closer, his head falling into the crook of Muriel’s neck.

Muriel could swear that he blushed more and more with each breath tickling his skin. Did he mind it? He’s experienced it before, why did it feel different this time. Asra— it was just Asra. Asra. Muriel looked down at him and moved some hair from his face delicately. Why did he do that. Goodness. He looked away again, keeping his gaze fixed at the ceiling for gods know how long.

He bit his lip when Asra moved, a deep breath escaping their lungs. Asra opened up his eyes, surprised at the position they found themselves in. He lifted himself off of Muriel, freezing above him.

“I’m sorry, M-“

“It’s fine” Muriel breathed out, avoiding eye contact.

Asra blinked a few times. He did not want Muriel to repeat himself. He nodded slightly, lowering himself back onto Muriel’s chest. Goodness, how good it felt. Asra breathed out softly, uncertain what to do with his arms. They lasted like that for a short time, one looking at the other discretely, before finally their eyes met. Muriel held his breath, as Asra looked up at him, his hair messy and cheeks blushed.

“Are you sure?” Asra asked in the quietest whisper. His gaze traced Muriel’s jawline briefly, before coming back to his eyes. Muriel stared at Asra long, his eyes opened wide. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s— okay— I guess. Whatever” Muriel murmured back, his face flushed. Asra was so close, so damn near, he could feel his breath, his heartbeat. With every second it seemed like they were getting closer. Asra lifted himself slightly upwards. Muriel looked down, at his lips, for barely a second before closing his eyes and turning his face away, coughing. “I have to— I have to— hunt. Yeah. No. I’ll bring eggs.”

Muriel sat up quickly, holding Asra close to make sure he was comfortable, before releasing him. Asra nodded, smiling shyly and getting off of him. It did not surprise him how quickly Muriel left the hut.

They found him again in the forest, near a cave. He was resting his head against the cold rock, playing with some grass in his hand. Asra approached him carefully.

“Did you find the eggs?”

Muriel looked at him, before dropping his gaze again.

“I— I just thought a walk first would be— nice” he whispered, coughing quietly.

Asra nodded, walking up closer. He reached out to grab Muriel’s hand, before hesitating.

“Can I?” he asked

Muriel blushed again, closing his eyes, before nodding after a longer while. Asra touched his hand softly, squeezing it tight.

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Muriel shook his head.

“It’s not— don’t worry. I’m- fine.” he said quickly, his gaze dropping on their hands.

Asra nodded carefully and Muriel could feel his eyes on him. His heart was racing, his head was spinning. What in the world?

“I need to tell you something, Muriel” Asra said quietly. “I— It’s important.”

Muriel thought he was going to die for a second. It felt like everything stopped. He nodded, unconsciously petting Asra’s hand with his thumb.

“I’m going to do something. That’s— dangerous. I don’t know what will happen or if it will work. But I have to try. If I can— If I can make it happen, it will be— a blessing” Asra voice was peaceful, although careful. Muriel listened to his plan in silence, eyes fixed on their joined hands. His heart was aching, but he did not know why exactly. It was difficult to pinpoint what really was happening inside his head. After Asra was done, he nodded again and again and thought to himself that they were fucking insane.

the fool

The Apprentice seemed healthy and quite alive. Muriel saw them sometimes at the marketplace as they paced slowly, hiding their face from the gossiping crowd. He felt sad for them.

Asra would travel more often now and Muriel haven’t seen him in weeks. Even if he was in town, he would rarely go visit the hut. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was of how he reacted to what happened between them. Has he not been such a fool, has he not act like a coward-

It was a quiet evening. Muriel was feeding the chickens before heading back inside the hut for the rest of the night, when he felt the presence behind him. Asra was leaning against the wall, observing him quietly with a soft smile on his lips. Muriel turned around and put down the seed basket.

“Your apprentice seems to be doing well” Muriel blurted out after a moment of awkward silence. Asra nodded, but a look of sadness run across his face.

“They don’t remember anything from— before. I’ve been teaching them, but there’s only so much I can do to remind them who they are.” they said, taking a satchel off his shoulder.

“It saddens you” Muriel pointed out, jumping above the fence and standing next to Asra. They shook their head.

“No, they are doing splendid. I don’t— regret anything.” he smiled peacefully. “From other news, they seem to be intensely engaged with a certain doctor we both know”

Muriel raised his eyebrows, before laughing quietly.

“Of course they are” he looked up at Asra’s face. “Is this— bothering you?” he asked shyly. Asra giggled, surprised.

“No! No. I’m fine with that. I guess I sort of let go a long time ago” he wondered for a minute “I’m happy for them.”

Muriel nodded, before turning and heading towards the hut. He stopped, noticing Asra followed him.

“Muriel I— want to apologize that I wasn’t here much recently.”

Muriel listened to him, his face displaying a hint of sadness.

“I suppose it’s not enough to just apologize for three years of barely coming here. It’s not— I did not mean to. I was busy with the teaching— it took a lot out of me. I did not want to project my tiredness onto you. Or my other feelings.” Asra scratched his palm, sighing deeply. “I am sorry. I figured you’d like more space— for yourself.”

Muriel closed his eyes, before turning and opening the door to enter the hut. He looked back in Asra’s direction.

“Do— you want to stay for the night?”

Asra smiled cheerfully, grabbing his satchel tightly and following him inside.

He noticed some things have changed. One chair was missing from the table and— was the bed bigger? He looked at Muriel, noticing blush spread across his face, before he managed to look away.

“I— made a bigger bed. Inanna wants to sleep with me more often recently. Figured it would be more comfortable for her”

Asra smiled widely, taking off his shoes and sitting down on the bed.

“I’ve brought some bread. It’s not the greatest quality but it was cheap, so I bought some more for you” Asra grabbed a loaf of bread from his satchel, standing up and putting it on the table.

“Thank you” Muriel dragged himself over to the fireplace, taking of his cloak and laying it on the floor. Asra observed him in silence.

Muriel sat down, squeezing his neck with his hand and sighing, as the pleasant warmth of the fireplace made shivers run down his spine. He did notice that Asra kneeled down next to him, taking of their hat.

“Here, let me” he reached to Muriel’s neck, gently placing his palms on it. Muriel did not flinch or shiver, the softness of Asra’s hands making him relax, as he longed for this touch for such a long time. Asra carefully ran his fingers down the muscles, massaging them and whispering calming words. Muriel did not notice when Asra’s touched moved to his shoulders, his mind focused on the pleasure.

“Can I- get in front of you. I can’t quite grasp it all from this side” Asra whispered, way closer to Muriel’s ear than he expected. He blushed, taking a long breath and nodding.

Asra stood up, walking over and leaning, as he placed hands on top of Muriel’s shoulders. Muriel opened his eyes, watching him for a second, before opening his mouth, like he wanted to say something.

“Hm?” Asra looked down at him, stopping the pressure on the muscles.

Muriel gestured awkwardly towards his laps, before coughing and murmuring.

“You can— just sit here”

Asra took a moment before smiling and agreeing. He carefully lowered himself onto Muriel’s laps, getting a better position. Muriel could not hide the blush on his face, so he just closed his eyes again, avoiding eye contact.

Asra pressed his skin in the most gentle ways, relieving the years of strain and stress from his body. Muriel’s lips parted as Asra’s fingers digged deeper, before suddenly letting out an unvolontary moan. Asra stopped, his eyes opened wide, as Muriel covered his mouth quickly, blood rushing towards his cheeks. He watched as the man completely hides his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry” Muriel muttered “That’s— I’m so sorry”

Asra laughed loudly, his head titling back. Muriel looked up at him, noticing the blush spreading on his cheeks as well. Asra moved hair back from their forehead and put hands on Muriel’s shoulders once more.

“Don’t be sorry! Oh my goodness, I loved that!” he exclaimed, laughing through his words. Muriel’s eyes opened wide, his gaze catching Asra’s stare.

“I- I’m-“ Muriel murmured, feeling his heart bursting out of his chest. “What?”

Asra’s gaze was soft and tender, and Muriel was so focused on it that he did not notice when they moved their hands on his cheeks. He could feel Asra shifting closer on his laps.

“I loved it. I— Loved it, yeah” he repeated, chuckling, his thumb petting Muriel’s skin. Muriel groaned, leaning into the touch, his head resting on Asra’s hands. He observed as they moved close until their noses barely touched. “Muriel-“ Asra whispered gently, observing him with a slightly concerned expression”

Muriel nodded, swallowing loudly and blinking a few times.”

“Can I?”

Muriel took a long time, feeling the warmth of Asra’s touch. How much he needed this, how much he longed for it, how could he deny it.

“Yes”

Asra leaned even closer, closing the gap between their lips, as the warmth spread across Muriel’s whole body. They kissed him carefully and sweetly and it seemed like it should never end. Muriel gasped into their kiss, before slowly kissing Asra back, uncertainly and longingly.

Muriel felt as Asra wrapped his legs around his waist, before parting and breathing shakily.

“Let me— let me show you how” he whispered and Muriel did not wait anymore, nodding, his eyes closing as he leaned into the kiss again and again. Asra lead him, turning his head gently and parting their lips, teaching him the sweetest of lessons.

Muriel was the first to move away, looking at Asra in disbelief. They smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek and jaw and again his lips, before leaning back. They looked at each other for a long time. as Muriel breathed deeply, his thoughts running wild.

He fell back carefully onto the floor, staring at the ceiling, before hiding his face in hand again.

“Goodness-“

Asra laid down next to him, their hands touching.

“Is it okay?” they asked quietly, looking up.

Muriel nodded, chuckling barely noticibly.

“Yes. It’s— yes—“ he repeated himself a few times. They lied in silence, their hands brushing against each other tenderly. Asra smiled widely, turning to the side, as Inanna walked over, placing herself on Muriel’s left side.

Muriel reached to pet her, catching Asra’s eye. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around him as well and bringing him close. Asra sighed and hugged him tightly, covering them with his cape.

Their breaths settled after some time, heartbeats calming down as well. Muriel felt himself drift away, his body relaxing. Asra caressed his shoulder, before chuckling quietly.

“Can I sleep here tonight? It’s very—“

“Familiar” Muriel completed his sentence. He smiled slightly. He tugged the magician closer, hand resting on his waist. “We can use the bed some other time”

Asra gasped and Muriel immediately opened his eyes.

“Not like— I mean to sleep—“

Asra laughed, placing a small kiss on his chest.

“I love it” he breathed out.

Muriel scratched Inanna and moved Asra up, feeling their breath on his neck again. And he loved it as well.

He loved him.

[sacklerscumrag]

Part I of III: Stay With Me Series

Notes: Hey ya’ll so i decided to do a little three part Clyde series with some fall vibes! I’ve been feeling a little off lately so i wrote this last night to take my mind off things :) hope you guys like it, I'm already halfway through part 2 and its a long one 😅 There's something about Clyde and a bookstore that just gets me going. Enjoy :)

Summary: Moving to Boone County, West Virginia a year ago today, your entire life has changed. With owning your own bookstore and your favorite holiday around the corner, could love also be in the books for you?

Wordcount: 1.6K 

      The air was cooler, and the leaves had already changed. It was official, Autumn had arrived in Boone County, West Virginia. It had been a year since you moved here and started helping Sam out at your favorite bookstore. Until about a month ago, when he decided it was getting to be too much work for him to keep up with, so he asked you to take over. You headed to the bookstore early that morning to start decorating for Halloween and take in some new inventory for the holiday season. Hanging some orange twinkling lights along the frame of the windows and doors and setting up pumpkins with black tinsel on the bottom of the large window out front to display some books. The store was small and cozy, so there wasn’t space for much.

     You weren’t expecting too many customers today, seeing as it was Sunday, so you settled behind the counter with a good book and some coffee. Flipping through the last pages of your Frankenstein novel, you heard the door chime at around 11:00 am.

     “Good Morning, welcome to Sams” you said barely peeling your eyes away from your book long enough to see who came in. You stood up, setting your coffee down, and walked over to the entrance.

     “Good mornin’ Miss, uh is Sam around?” you turned your gaze to him, about to give him an answer but were taken back by the man standing in front of you. He towered over you with long, wavy, dark locks drizzling down to his broad shoulders that you just wanted to wrap yourself around and never let go. He had dark, sultry eyes with the most exquisite nose you had ever seen, his lips were full, plush, it made you want to drown in them. You noticed his mechanical arm but paid no mind to it, how could you when the man was built like a Greek god. You were sure you had never seen him in the store before, you definitely would’ve remembered.    

     “Ya alright there Miss?” his deep voice snapping you out of your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you were biting your lip, almost tearing at the skin.

     “Yeah sorry I-uh Sam’s not working anymore so I’ll be taking over. Is there anything I can help you find?” trying your best to compose yourself, interlocking your index fingers behind your back.

     “No ma’am its alri- well actually ya got any good books for Halloween? I’m always lookin to read somethin good for the holidays” he put his hand in his pocket, keeping the mechanical one tightly to his side.

     “Of course, follow me” you guided him through the bookshelves, his heavy footsteps following closely behind you. He was slightly hunching over to fit himself in between the shelves before you reached a small, black table decorated with spiderwebs in the back of the store.

     “These are all my favorite Halloween books I’ve read so far” stepping to the side to give him a better view of the array of books.

     “Ya read all o’ these?”

     “Yeah, I guess you could say readings a hobby of mine” you turned to give him a smile only to see he was already smiling at you. “If you need anything else, I’ll be by the counter” quickly walking away before he could see the heat rising to your face.

     About an hour or so later, he came back with two books in his hand and placed them on the counter along with a crisp bill.

     “On the house” you said pushing them back towards him.

     “I can’t let ya do that Miss I-“ he placed his hand on the books but you cut him off by putting your hand on his.

     “The only form of payment I’ll be accepting is your name” he swallowed hard, looking down at where your hands were still touching then looking back at you.

     “My name’s Clyde” you withdrew your hand from his, already missing the warmth, and settled back behind the counter.

     “It’s nice to meet you Clyde” you told him your name as he stuffed the money back in his pocket.

     “Well, that’s a beautiful name. It’s nice to meet ya. I better head on out then. Have a nice day, and thank ya again” you gave him a smile, noticing the flush in his cheeks.

      “Have a nice day, Clyde” he grabbed his book and headed out the door. It wasn’t until after he left that you realized how flustered he made you, releasing a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

      The following week flew by and as Halloween approached the bookstore got busier. Finding yourself with less time to daydream about Clyde and those alluring eyes of his, you were dumbfounded as to how such a large man could be as shy and reserved as Clyde was.

     When Sunday rolled around, you were looking forward to seeing him again. You woke up that morning, did your hair and applied some light make up. Wearing your favorite pair of high waisted black jeans, throwing on a long black sleeve with a ghost in the center, and your black boots as you grabbed your coat and headed out the door.

     A few customers passed through in the morning, still giving you time to read through your book and tidy up the store a bit. Clyde came in at his usual time, looking as handsome as ever.

     “Mornin” your name sounded like honey coming from his mouth, you could listen to that man talk all day. He stood by the door, hands fidgeting with the sides of his jeans.

     “Good Morning Clyde, how’s your day going?” putting your coffee down to look at him.

     “Gettin much better now” he said looking down, a slight smirk appearing on his face “I loved the book ya recommended for me, finished it last night.”

     “I’m glad you liked it, are you back for another?” you made your way around the counter, suddenly needing to be as close to him as possible.

     “Yes ma’am, do you happen to have Frankenstein? Saw the movie last night n I been dyin to read it”

     “I just finished reading that one actually, it’s a classic. Did you see the original black and white film? That’s my favorite”

     “Yeah, it’s the only one I’ll watch, I love all em black and white movies. Thought I was the only one.”

     “Not at all, those are my favorite too” you said pacing towards the bookshelf, scanning it. “We actually don’t have that one in stock but” walking to the counter, returning with the novel. “You can borrow mine if you’d like”

     “Ya don’t have to, I’d hate to cause ya any trouble.”

     “Clyde, it’s no trouble at all” you said handing the book to him.

     “You have any favorites you can show me? I really wanted to take home more than one today” he clutched the book you gave him close to his side. You both made your way over as you showed Clyde your favorite section of the store. It seemed like hours passed as you both discussed your favorite books and authors. The more you talked, the more you realized you and Clyde had much more in common than you thought.

     After some time, Clyde paid for his book, mumbling something about being late to work as he walked out. Your heart raced watching him nervously fumble with the books in hand.

      Another week went by with Clyde on your mind. Before you knew it, it was another chilly, Sunday morning. You had picked up some cookies and pastries for some of your loyal customers and settled in with your book behind the counter. You saw Clyde’s truck pull into the parking lot a bit earlier than usual.

     “Mornin” Clyde walked in with a book under his arm and two coffee cups in his hands. He was wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt with a black undershirt and jeans that were too tight for your own good.

     “Good morning Clyde, back for something new?” he chuckled lightly at your response while walking towards you.

     “This if for ya” he places the book and a coffee cup on the counter “For lending me this, I appreciate it” the way he smiled at you making something ignite in your core.

     “You brought me coffee? Thank you, Clyde” you damn near melted at this gesture “Anything I can help you find today?”

     He approached the counter, arms tightly at his side and chewing on his lip. You could tell whatever it was he had to say was making him nervous. He placed a hand on the counter and took a deep breath.

     “I just came by to ask ya something. M’ sorry if this is too forward o’ me or if it makes ya uncomfortable but will ya do me the honor of goin out on a date with me? I been meanin’ to ask ya since the first day I came in. I know a girl like you can do a heck of a lot better than me but if you just-”

     “Clyde, I would love to go on a date with you” his eyes darted to yours, almost like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.     

     “How bout a movie then? At the drive-in? Their showin a black and white movie, Frankstein like the book ya been readin. Tomorrow at 7?” he cleared his throat, worried he sounded too eager as soon as the words left his mouth.

     “That sounds wonderful Clyde” he smiled at you before looking at his watch.

     “I gotta go Darlin but I’ll pick ya up tomorrow at 7 then” you nodded as he turned and walked out.

     Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 6

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

THE TAVERN

“Skål!” Eivor and Sigurd said in unison, knocking their tankards together before taking a swig of their drinks. It had only been a short while since they departed from the temple, but the pair of them were already knee-deep in merrymaking and storytelling, chatting away with each other as if they had been conversing for the entire afternoon.

The tavern was rather busy with numerous folks looking to have a quick break from their lives -- whether in the form of a meal or a pint -- and was filled to the brim with vibrant carousing, giving the place a nice, warm feel to it.

A bard entertained customers with a series of enchanting songs from her lute, and tamed the wildness of the tavern with her soothing tones. She plucked the strings in a manner so effortless that it seemed like second nature, and harmonized with its melody using the music of her own voice.

Meanwhile, a lone man sat in the back of the building, waiting patiently for anyone to join his quiet game of Orlog. He fidgeted with the tiny cubes in his weathered hands, and slowly made his way to the bottom of an impressively tall tankard as the light of a nearby candle kissed the wrinkles on his face.

Overall, it was a typical day in the tavern despite the handful of unfamiliar faces dotting its crowds, and there was nothing that could’ve put Eivor off his drink -- including the incident he and Sigurd experienced in the woods.

He just hoped he wouldn’t regret this later.

“So,” Sigurd said after taking a sip, “you mentioned you had a pet raven?”

“Well, Synin’s not really a pet,” Eivor corrected. “She’s more of a companion. That bird’s been at my side ever since I was just a child. She was actually the one who saved me from the wolf that gave me this mark.” He turned his head to the side, revealing the marred skin on his nape.

Sigurd seemed fascinated. “Is that so?”

The other man nodded. “Indeed. It was as if Odin himself sent Synin to rescue me. I don’t know where she came from, but she swooped in just before the beast had a chance to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she really did come at Odin’s behest. The gods seem to have their eyes on you.”

Eivor chuckled. “Our seeress would agree. She believe the gods spared me that day for a specific reason. I have yet to discover what it is, though.” He downed a portion of his drink, flipping the subject to Sigurd.

“What about you? Have you ever had any animals like that in your life? A companion that you could always trust?”

The prince shrugged. “In a way. They weren’t quite as loyal as Synin, but I befriended a wolf when I was a boy.”

Eivor couldn’t help but be amused by the irony of that statement. “A wolf, you say?”

Sigurd laughed. “I know. Out of all animals. But it’s true. I came across this pup when I was, what, roughly twelve winters old? It was alone in the woods, and nearly starving to death. I think it was abandoned. I didn’t really know what to do at the time, so I simply gave it some food and then left. The wolf must’ve followed my scent back home though, because when I woke up the next day, I found it waiting outside the longhouse, begging for more food.”

“Did you take it in?”

He sighed in disappointment. “Sadly, no. My father wouldn’t allow it. Too much trouble, he said. But that didn’t stop the little thing from visiting me everyday. It would always be waiting just by the entrance, wagging its tail like a dog greeting its owner. I’d place some meat at its feet, and it would run back into the forest to enjoy its meal. This routine carried on for a few weeks, until eventually... it just stopped showing up.”

Eivor could sense the disappointment in Sigurd’s tone. “What happened to it?”

“No idea. I remember setting some food by the door to see if that would lure it back, but the wolf never returned. It either died or just... wandered off.” A humorous glint twinkled in his eye. “...Maybe it was the same wolf that you encountered.”

The younger man smirked. “I wish. Perhaps the scar would’ve been smaller.”

The two of them snickered at that and took a moment to finish their drinks, leading their conversation to reach a temporary halt. The music of the tavern filled the gap in between their silence, and only brought more emphasis to the cluster of different voices around them.

When Eivor’s eyes landed on the flesh sitting just above Sigurd’s collar however, the man suddenly felt the need to bring up another question. He wasn’t exactly sure if this was a subject he should’ve broached, but he found himself curious nonetheless.

“Hey, Sigurd,” Eivor said, “may I ask you something?”

The prince extended a permitting hand. “Of course.”

“Well, since we’re on the topic of strange marks on our necks,” he nodded his head towards the one resting under Sigurd’s ear, “do you mind if I ask about that?”

The older man instinctively rubbed the mark upon hearing Eivor’s observation, admittedly surprised that he was able to notice it.

“Ah, you caught that? You have a keen eye. I’ve had it ever since I was born.”

“It’s a birthmark, then? It looks very unique.”

Sigurd smiled proudly. “Indeed. The seeress of our clan, Valka, believes it was put there for a reason. She says it’s a fingerprint of the gods.”

Eivor examined its intricate shape. “I can see why. It’s a peculiar design, even for a birthmark. It seems I am not the only one being watched by the Allfather. Not that I would want to be, anyway.”

“You don’t want the gods’ favor?”

The younger man let out a breath, casually leaning back in his chair. “Perhaps it sounds ungrateful, but I’ve never fancied the idea of being a chosen one. I feel perfectly content living within the confines of Midgard. If I have a place among the gods, so be it. But I don’t wish to spend my mortal life chasing it. I’d rather create my own path.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing,” Sigurd replied. “The life we desire is very often the same one the Nornir have chosen for us. If there is a certain path you wish to take, it’s probably because the gods placed it there for you.”

Eivor gestured to the prince. “And what about you? The gods have led you to Bjornheimr for the sake of a marriage, but... is that what you desire?”

Sigurd came to a pause, hesitant to offer any candour. “I... I don’t know, if I’m being honest. Randvi seems like a good woman, but it’s difficult for me to envision the rest of my life with her. I mean, what are we supposed to do when the wedding is complete?”

His friend shrugged. “What every prince does, I suppose.”

“What, prepare to become king? Start a family? Have children purely for the sake of ensuring that you have enough heirs?”

It didn’t take long for Eivor to pick up on Sigurd’s frustration. “I take it you don’t approve.”

The older man placed his tankard down, staring blankly at the table’s surface in discouragement.

“...No. On the contrary, I eagerly wait for the day that the crown gets passed to me. It’s the only time I’ll be able to make any difference in this world, or do some good. But... being a father? I’m not certain if that’s something I want. Or if I’m even ready for it.”

Eivor found himself intrigued. “And what do you want?”

Sigurd gestured loosely at the environment. “I wish to travel. To see the world. To bring glory to our clan. I wish to ride the seas to my heart’s content, and explore the kingdoms that lie beyond the horizon. But... I’m aware it’s an unrealistic goal. I have responsibilities, after all. And I fear my time for daydreaming has come to an end.”

The younger man took his words to heart, admittedly pitying the prince. He understood the love for adventure, and wished to sate Sigurd’s thirst for wandering.

He thought for a moment, offering a suggestion to him. “...What if I take you fishing tomorrow?”

Sigurd’s curiosity was piqued. “Fishing? Where?”

“We wouldn’t go too far from the village,” Eivor reassured. “We’d still be within arm’s reach, but it could be a nice break from all this chaos.”

A look of regret spread across the man’s face. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I have a busy day tomorrow. My father is eager to set things in motion. Perhaps some other time.”

“Have no fear. We can--”

Interrupting their talk, a firm thud echoed from the tavern’s door as another customer walked in, drawing both Sigurd and Eivor’s attention. A gust of wind blasted through the open frame as the man entered the pub, and the candle standing by the Orlog game flickered sporadically.

Meanwhile, Eivor saw none other than Ulfar himself stepping into the cozy atmosphere of the tavern, allowing the warmth to settle into his chilled bones. His cheeks and nose were tinted red from spending so much time outside, but strangely enough, it didn’t look like he had any intention of staying.

Instead, his iron gaze simply landed directly on Sigurd, and he strode over to the man, speaking as forwardly as ever.

“Sigurd, there you are.” Ulfar greeted. “Your father is looking for you.”

The prince exchanged glances with Eivor, seemingly unsurprised by the summon. “Like I said, he’s eager to start.” He turned to the other man, giving him a nod. “Thank you, Ulfar. I’ll find him right away. And Eivor, thank you for the drinks. I enjoyed spending the day with you. Hopefully we can meet again soon.”

Eivor raised his tankard in a cordial manner. “Good day, Sigurd. You always know where to find me.”

Standing up from his seat, the older man parted ways with his friend despite his reluctance to do so, and made a swift exit from the tavern, leaving the Wolf-Kissed to his thoughts.

As for Ulfar, the weathered warrior stayed in place and watched as Sigurd took his leave, not even bothering to say another word. His arms were crossed in a serious fashion, and if Eivor didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that the man was annoyed.

“Ulfar?” He asked, pointing a hand to the chair across from him. “Care to join me for a drink?”

Ulfar’s expression immediately softened at the young man’s invitation, and a light chuckle fluttered from his lips.

“How could I say no?”

He took a seat at the other end of the table, filling the absence that Sigurd left behind. In the meantime, Eivor poured Ulfar a fresh cup of mead and slid it over to him, eager to get the ale flowing once again.

“Skål, my friend.” He said.

Ulfar grabbed the tankard’s handle and lifted in the air, smiling at him. “Skål, Eivor.”

Bringing the cup to his mouth, the man downed a decent fraction of his drink and let the alcohol loosen his mind, clearly worn out from all the stress that had been piled on him in the recent days.

His eyes sagged slightly with a hint of exhaustion, and the skin on his head glistened somewhat due to the beads of sweat that rested on the surface. It looked like he had just run a lap around the entire village, and the manner in which he slouched told Eivor he was in dire need of a break. Though, that didn’t stop Ulfar from striking up a conversation.

“...So, you and Sigurd seem to be growing close.” He remarked, his tone stiff with skepticism.

Eivor felt a pang of anxiety gripping him in the chest. Why did Ulfar sound so annoyed?

“I wouldn’t say that,” he disagreed. “We’ve only met twice thus far. We hardly know each other, in fact.”

“And yet... Sigurd hasn’t bothered to see Randvi at all. Meanwhile, he’s been here with you, chatting about frivolous subjects for hours on end.”

Eivor paused at that, picking up on his last words. “Hours? Has it really been that long?”

“Yes. Where else do you think I’ve been this whole time? Before I came here, I was carrying out your father’s orders and scouting the woods. Roughly three hours have passed since you returned to the longhouse.”

“I...” the young man stumbled over his thoughts, shocked by the realization, “...I didn’t even notice. It feels like mere minutes have flown by.”

The warrior’s response was painfully short. “I can imagine.”

Eivor tilted his head to the side in confusion, puzzled by the unusual shift in his friend’s mood. “...Is something wrong, Ulfar? You seem... upset.”

Ulfar let out a deep sigh and fell silent for a second, gazing out a nearby window as he spoke. His brow was crinkled with a profound sense of disapproval, and his lips remained flattened in a stern way.

“...Sigurd almost got you killed today.” He finally uttered.

The younger man instantly denied the notion, quick to defend Sigurd. “It wasn’t his fault, Ulfar. He had no way of knowing that Kjotve’s men were traipsing in the woods. There was no sign of danger when we first entered the forest.”

The raider wasn’t convinced. “One of the primary skills a leader needs is to be able to predict danger. Just because you didn’t see anything worth noting, doesn’t mean there wasn’t anything. The fact that we’re tangled in a war with Kjotve should’ve been enough to inform his decision. What Sigurd did today was careless, and it nearly cost you both your lives.”

Eivor tried to offer some perspective. “Well, look at this way. Despite not being prepared for an ambush, Sigurd still managed to get us out of there alive. Isn’t that another important trait for a leader? To be resourceful?”

“Yes, resourceful. Not reckless.”

That only confused Eivor more. “I don’t understand. Weren’t you the one who told Randvi that Sigurd was a man of great ambition and battle-prowess?”

“I was.” Ulfar confirmed. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Sigurd struck me as a cunning warrior when we first met, but his actions today make me wonder if he truly is the best option for Randvi. I’m not sure I like the idea of marrying her off to someone with such poor judgement.”

“You’re being too hard on him.” The young man replied. “Sigurd is unfamiliar with this region. He doesn’t know it as well as we do.”

“All the more reason to practice caution.”

A lighthearted smirk radiated on Eivor’s face. “You mean like you did when you charged into Geirmund’s fortress all alone? Or when you married a woman who killed someone in front of you?”

A quiet laugh scuffed Ulfar’s throat. “...Point taken.”

The Wolf-Kissed leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Listen, Ulfar. I know you’re only trying to protect me, but I mean it when I say Sigurd did nothing wrong today. He can be trusted. Just give him a second chance.”

The old warrior considered Eivor’s words, finally deciding to let go of the dispute. His temperament resembled that of a father scolding his child for their foolish behavior, but the rational side of him couldn’t deny that the young man had a point. Ulfar himself was no stranger to making risky decisions or getting caught in life-threatening circumstances, and he wondered if, perhaps, he was being too harsh with his comments.

His life in Bjornheimr was the result of a hasty choice, after all, and he turned out just fine. 

“...Very well, Eivor.” Ulfar conceded, his tone free of the sharpness from before. “I’m still doubtful of Sigurd’s abilities, but if you believe he’s a man worthy of our trust... then I’ll reserve any further judgement for now. You’ve always had a talent when it came to reading people, and I’ve seen for myself that your instincts are usually correct. I just hope he doesn’t prove you wrong.”

The other man beamed at the sentiment. “Thank you, Ulfar.”

The raider took another swig from his tankard, emptying its contents entirely.

“Well, I think I should return to my duties. This old man has nagged you enough for one day, and the jarl will be waiting for my report.” Ulfar set the cup down and rose to his feet, causing the chair to emit a wooden scrape as it slid back with the man’s movement.

“Thank you for the drink, Eivor,” he said, returning to the gruff yet gentle demeanor that the young man was so familiar with. “And I apologize for being so antagonistic. I fear I was too rash with my anger.”

“It’s alright,” Eivor reassured. “You’re just trying to keep me safe. I appreciate it.”

Ulfar chuckled heartily at that. “It’s a good thing I was talking to you, then, and not Thora. I don’t think she would’ve been as understanding. My ferocity is often met on an equal level when I’m speaking to that woman.”

The warrior turned on his heel and began heading towards the door, bracing himself to collide with the icy weather once again. A muffled whistle could heard howling past the walls as the wind soared freely outside, and a subtle chill already caressed the parts of Ulfar’s flesh that remained exposed.

“Rest easy, little cub,” he told Eivor, placing his fingers on the door’s handle. “And remember to take care of that wound. You may have escaped with your life today, but I don’t want you to end up looking like me.”

“Don’t worry, Ulfar. I’ll be fine.”

“Good. We need your strength, especially these days. It’s clear to me now that Kjotve fully intends on taking advantage of the wedding, and the last thing I want is for any more of us to get hurt. So keep your guard up, and stay close to the village.” Ulfar threw a quick wave. “Good luck to you, Eivor. This is only the beginning.”

[dulce-pjm]

caffeine crush

word count: 4.3k 

genre: fluff, coffee shop!au

summary: all it took was one trip to the cafe to cement a friendship you never wanted. but it’s high time you fess up and call it all off. 

Yes, you’d picked up the habit last August, you’re certain. 

Classes had yet to start but, growing tired of your overbearing family, you decided to head back to campus a week or two early and get a head start while the university was still mostly empty. 

You didn’t exactly get a ton of work done, but those few weeks were relaxing. Cleansing, even. You spent your mornings wandering around campus and the surrounding area, soaking in the summer sun. Your afternoons were spent curled up in a comfy chair in the corner of the library, nose deep in a romance novel. You found yourself eating better, exploring the city and finding new activities and niche locations. At this point, you thought you would make an excellent tour guide if someone hired you. You knew nearly every corner of the blocks surrounding the university. You’d made it a game to leave no stone unturned, memorizing the storefronts and seeing what hole-in-the-wall restaurants and shops you would find next. 

You were playing just this game when you met Seokjin.

It’s not like you particularly liked coffee. It’s always been much too bitter for your taste. No amount of sugar or cream or pumpkin syrup made the drink worth it to you. 

But you set your personal preferences aside for the mission. How could you give coffee shop recommendations to your imaginary tour group if you’d never tried them out yourself?

And it was with that mentality that you tentatively stepped inside the near-hidden cafe, door chiming as you made your entrance. 

The minute you walked in, you fell in love with the atmosphere. The place was well ventilated and cool, perfect for someone like you who preferred to keep the thermostat at ‘obscenely low temperatures,’ as your sister would say. The walls were coated with muted mints and greens. Draping plants decorated the wooden shelves scattered across the far wall and the soft jazz playing over the speakers made you feel relaxed. A large chalkboard menu hung behind the counter, fresh flowers sat by the cash register. The smell of coffee grounds was undeniably comforting and potent, despite your general dislike for the drink. 

This place was perfect. You could imagine your friends applauding your efforts now, praising you for managing to stumble on such an amazing hideout, tucked away from the chaos of university campus yet still within easy walking distance. 

The cafe was almost completely empty, save for a couple about your age camped out at a corner table. You barely paid them any attention except to be jealous of their closeness as they giggled over something on the girl’s phone. 

You approached the counter, curiously vacant of any employees. You looked left, you looked right. But no one appeared. 

The couple, too absorbed in their own world, did nothing to aid you as you stood helpless in the middle of the abandoned store. You gave it a good ten seconds before you felt much too awkward standing here all alone and gave up, turning to leave. 

And just as you did, you heard a collection of scuffles coming from the back and a door swing open with a creak. 

“Oh, I am so sorry. One of our frothers broke and made a huge mess.” You spun around. And your jaw dropped. 

Before you stood the most godly man you’d ever seen. 

The first thing that caught your eye was tufts of soft lavender hair, shining under the cool vintage lights. His eyes were wide and dark and warm, making you shift on your feet when they focused on you. His shoulders were broad and wrapped in a thin, cream turtleneck despite the warm weather. You practically drooled when you caught sight of his lips, full and soft pink.

He looked just like every male romantic lead you’d read about in your spare time. A purple-haired prince charming. A knight in his shining, corporate-regulated apron. 

“Were you waiting long?” His friendly voice snapped you from your daze before your thoughts could roam further to his muscles and chest and-

“No, not at all.” Could he tell you’d just been ogling? You really hoped not. 

“Good, good.” He shoots you a relieved smile that has your knees shaking. “Well, what can I get for you?” 

Shit, he was pretty. The slope of his nose and jaw and the swell of his cheekbones looked like they’d been crafted by god himself. Not that you were particularly religious, but after this encounter, you mused that maybe one day you could be. 

You were already fantasizing about the future the two of you could forge together. Stolen kisses, cuddles by the tv, a cozy house full of little purple-haired kids. His pillowy soft lips looked awfully inviting. You wondered what it’d be like to lean onto the tips of your toes and press your lips on his, to run your fingers through his hair, to-

“Uh, is there something I can get for you?” 

Shit. You’d been caught red-handed. 

“Oh! Um... uh...” You couldn’t focus. The words on the menu were suddenly too blurry as your tunnel vision zoomed in on him and only him. “A latte! A latte is fine.”

Seokjin smiled sweetly, making your stomach flutter. 

“You got it! Just a sec.” He spun away, running back and forth between the different contraptions that look more like convoluted machines from a sci-fi movie than coffee-related appliances. 

You were still trying to collect yourself when his hand brushed yours as he passed your drink across the counter. A shiver ran unwelcomed down your spine. You barely managed to fork over a few bills when the man shook his head adamantly.

“I made you wait. This one’s on the house.”

God, he was hot and nice? How?

“Oh, thanks...” Your eyes found the small name tag pinned to his blue apron. “Seokjin.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling adorably. 

“Not a problem. See you around.” He said it like the two of you were friends and not strangers. Like he was going to miss you when you walked out the door. 

You felt his gaze on your back as you left the tiny shop, bells chiming as went. 

You knew you’d be coming back. 

And come back you did. 

You’d reasoned that it wasn’t because of Seokjin, no, of course not! You liked the cafe, it was quiet and there was plenty of room to study. 

Oh, who were you kidding? It was totally because of Seokjin. The cafe was nice, you guess, but you don’t even like coffee! Rather, you used your time spent in the shop half actually doing your work and half staring at Seokjin and letting your mind wander. It was a stress reliever, really. A guilty pleasure, to bask in his glory. 

It was a harmless habit. You got your work done and got to stare at an angel sent from heaven, and Seokjin had extra business bolstering his paycheck when you dragged your friends with you to camp out at the cafe. 

It was harmless. 

Until you’d spent the better part of four months somewhat stalking him and now he knew your face. 

So when a certain someone tapped you on the shoulder in January as you settled down for the first day of class, you really should have known this would happen. 

“Hi!” he’d exclaimed, taking the seat next to you before you could protest, not that you wanted to. “I didn’t know you were a student here.” 

It was Seokjin. Hot barista from the coffee shop, Seokjin. In your class. Talking directly to you. Except now, he’d traded his purple locks for warm brunette ones. It didn’t take away from his appeal at all though. It made him seem boyish and younger, suiting him well. 

“Oh, hi...” You were at a loss for words. Never in your life did you think that Seokjin attended your university, let alone would be taking the same classes as you. Wouldn’t you have seen him by now? How did this slip under your radar?

“Y/N, right?” His smile widened when you nodded, confirming his suspicions. 

The professor walked in a moment later, informing you all that the person next to you would be your partner for all projects for the rest of the semester. Your stomach dropped to the floor

And from then on, Seokjin was your friend. 

You’d done your best to fight it, to resist him but you were only pulled deeper and deeper. 

Before then, the line of acquaintanceship was defined, set in stone. You knew his name, sure, but only because of the context of the situation. You had no reason to talk to him, to know him. And he had no reason to remember you. 

But once he confirmed your name, claimed the seat next to you, expressed excitement at being your partner (because he’d seen how studious you were at the shop, he said- and what a lie that was), the line had been crossed and blurred. He made a point to smile at you every time you arrived to class, to ask you how your day was going and if you were planning on stopping by the cafe any time soon.

It didn’t take long, however, for fantasy Seokjin to crumble before your eyes. Your dashing prince charming turned out to actually be a gluttonous man-child. Long gone were the days of your innocent crush on him. No longer could you sit and daydream about his perfect self when you were watching him pig out on take-out dumplings and listening to the most cringe-worthy jokes you’d heard in your life. 

“So I was at this vegetarian restaurant, right?” You nodded, only half paying attention as you made final edits to your presentation on Nordic traditions. “And this girl comes up to me and starts to tell me how I’d done her so wrong and she was finally standing up for herself.” 

At that point you were interested, allowing yourself to watch his dramatics rather than your laptop screen. Was Seokjin secretly an asshole? A heart breaker? God, this couldn’t be farther from how you’d imagined him months ago. 

“But the thing is-” He paused, meeting your eyes to make sure you were fully paying attention, which you were. “I’d never even seen herbivore!”

A fully offended sound left your throat as Seokjin burst into squeaky, boisterous laughter at the disgusted expression on your face. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to fake laugh. That joke was absolutely dreadful. 

See, this is normally when relationships- dating and friendship alike- started to go downhill for you. You were much too idealistic. You set certain expectations for anyone and everyone before you ever laid eyes on them. And when they didn’t meet those expectations, it was easy for you to lose interest. Once you realized that they weren’t the person you’d hoped they’d be, you realized you’d never really liked them at all. You’d just gotten too caught up in your head, too captivated by your own imagination to recognize that you were walking into something you didn’t want.  

Seokjin, though, was different. He’d been drastically far from your expectations, absolutely. But instead of that eventual feeling of self-directed bitterness and regret for setting yourself up for failure, you felt guilty. Overwhelmed with guilt and shame, actually. Even if he had an awful sense of humor, Seokjin was great. He was kind and charming and teasing and thoughtful and earnest. He was genuine. 

Yes, if there was one word to describe Seokjin, it was genuine. But if you had to add a few more words, they would be ‘too fucking nice.’

When you were about to be keeled over in the school’s bathroom, puking your brains out with the flu, it was Seokjin that had noticed you were feeling off and chased you down after class. He’d been the one to see how sick you were, to hold your hair while you were bent over the toilet, to take you to the doctor and bring you homemade soup for dinner. 

While you panicked about the project due in the next few days, Seokjin adamantly insisted that you rest and promised that he could take care of it for you. He was unwavering in his resolve and despite the guilt brewing in your stomach alongside the nausea, you almost let yourself think he was doing this just because he wanted to, not because it was his personality. 

You didn’t deserve him. Not his friendship, not his love, not his time. He’s out of your league. Hell, he’s playing a different sport entirely. What you were doing wasn’t fair. This friendship didn’t happen because you were genuinely nice like Seokjin. It happened because you were lonely and, frankly, thirsty.

So, while you’re taking your final exam for your class with Jin, you reach the conclusion that it’s time to fess up. To admit who you really are, what your motives were, the reason you kept coming back for coffee you didn’t like. And then you’d cut it off. Not that you think you’d have to. Seokjin would see just how crazy you were and then never speak to you again. Things would be right with the universe and you’d be guilt-free, if a little embarrassed. 

Your pencil hovers over the scantron and you consider that you probably should have spent all this time focusing on the exam and not your friendship’s impending doom. 

But this class had been nothing short of an easy A, so you decide to have a little faith in yourself that even you could choose the correct answers while your mind wandered elsewhere. 

Yes, this was the best option. It’s not like you were in love with Seokjin, missing his presence and smile the minute he walked out the door and admiring the way his laugh lit up a room. Seokjin wasn’t some unreachable fantasy. You wouldn’t be retreating to your room sobbing if he was suddenly gone. He was just a person. He was just Seokjin. You could let him go. He could realize what you really were.

Easy peasy. Right? 

When you shoulder your bag and trudge out of the exam room, Seokjin is waiting for you, despite finishing a few minutes earlier. He was much too nice to other people like that. He hasn’t quite noticed you yet, too absorbed in a conversation with a fellow classmate. You indulge in his objectively perfect features for what will likely be the last time, but you don’t let your imagination wander. You just take the moment to appreciate what is in front of you. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m pretty tired...” You note the awkward, apologetic smile on his face and wonder what they’d been talking about. In that moment, his eyes flicker to yours, immediately lighting up. “Oh, Y/N!” He shifts towards you, leaving the poor girl to flounder. While he smiles enthusiastically your way, your expression is almost completely neutral. The abandoned classmate looks back and forth between the two of you, trying to decipher your relationship. You sigh, internally scolding him for wasting his attention on you. 

“Hey, Jin.” You address him by the nickname you’ve heard his friends call him. He’d never explicitly told you to call him that, but when it accidentally slipped out one day, he smiled to himself and you added the name to your vocabulary.

“Well, how do you feel? It’s over!” You shrug, shifting the backpack you always carry to the other shoulder. 

“Not as good as you do, I’m sure.” Seokjin’s brows furrow curiously and cutely, not understanding where you’re going. “You’re graduating? I’m still stuck here another year.”

“Ahh, at least the semester’s over. You are coming to my graduation, right?” You shoot him a look saying something akin to, ‘are you stupid?’

“Of course I am. You’d never let me live it down if I didn’t.” Seokjin laughs but doesn’t argue. You realize the classmate from before is long gone. You’re not sure when she left. Good, now you can tell Seokjin what you’ve been meaning to. “Can I talk to you?”

“Aren’t we talking now?” You sigh, loosely crossing your arms. 

“You know what I mean, Seokjin.” Sensing your serious demeanor, Seokjin immediately drops his teasing smile, switching his expression to one laced with concern. 

“Yes, of course. My shift starts in half an hour, though. Can we talk on the way to the shop?” 

“Sure.” Perfect, actually. Walking side by side, you wouldn’t have to watch that soft smile turn into an expression of disgust when you admitted what you were about to. 

As the two of you walk across campus and into the city, you tell him everything. You tell him how the minute you saw him, you’d thought he was the hottest person you’d ever laid eyes upon. You tell him how you came back almost thrice a week just to stare and think about him. You tell him how you don’t even like coffee, but your frequent visits to the shop have made you dependent on caffeine. You tell him how you’d had a bit of a crush on him, no, on your fantasy version of him for months. You tell him you don’t feel like that now, that you just feel guilty that this friendship existed when it was all born from a lie, from a terrible habit you couldn’t seem to break. You tell him how fake you are.

“And you deserve better than that, than me. I’m sorry I dragged you along for so long. I shouldn’t have.” You haven’t looked at him once this whole time, too ashamed to clue yourself in to what he’s thinking. “I think that’s everything.” Seokjin stays silent for a few agonizing minutes as the scenery morphs from tall, brick lecture buildings and trees into a more urban environment filled with bustling streets and colorful displays in the store windows. 

“Can I ask a question?” You jump at his voice. You’re almost surprised he’s still here. 

“Yeah.” You nervously fidget with your backpack straps, still refusing to even glance his way. 

“When you actually got to know me better, were you disappointed?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded nervous. Heat rises to your cheeks. Shit, you’d hurt his feelings, hadn’t you? Why couldn’t he just get mad or storm off to leave you in the dust? Did he think that you hated him? That you were tired of him and that’s why you were doing this? You had to make him understand. You are the problem, not him. God, why was this idiot so nice?

“What? No!” You’re frantic with worry. Maybe you were being too egotistical to think that your confession had hurt his self-image, but you were willing to take the risk. “You’re great, Seokjin. You’re sweet and thoughtful and funny- well, actually your humor could use some work -and perfect. You’re a great friend. It’s me who’s disappointing. You’ve never disappointed me, not once.”

If you could just tear your eyes from the sidewalk, you’d see that Seokjin was grinning from ear to ear, over-the-moon ecstatic your compliments. Neither of you has ever been great with words, so you hope your pep talk was enough and that his silence is a good sign. 

The skies have begun shifting away from bright and sunny to grey and cloudy. The air is thick and heavy, like it’s about to rain. Just your luck. You should have checked the weather channel this morning. 

“We have caffeinated drinks other than coffee on the menu, you know.” 

Really? You’d just confessed your most embarrassing secret and that’s all he had to say? You stumble over your words, not sure whether to be flustered (because you definitely didn’t know that) or frustrated at his unwavering good nature. 

“Oh.” You grow sheepish and pretend to find the dirt under your fingernails interesting. “I guess I had a hard time focusing back then.” Those days had long faded away. You didn’t crumble under his gaze anymore or struggle to form coherent sentences around him. He’d long lost his mystery. 

Then, Seokjin laughs. He laughs and he chuckles and giggles and you cringe. You want to crawl into a hole and never come back out. When other times you could find humor in the rambunctious sounds spilling from his lips, now it only felt jarring, like a smack in the face. He was laughing at you, at how much of a hopeless idiot you are. You suppose that was better than him feeling betrayed and never wanting to see you again. Though he hasn’t exactly ruled out the latter. 

This is what you wanted, this is what you wanted. 

You say nothing, consumed by your own bitterness, as Seokjin calms down. 

“You’re pretty stupid, Y/N.” Your face falls. 

You knew that. He didn’t have to tell you. 

You were stupid to keep showing up at the coffee shop like a lovestruck teenager. You were stupid to believe Seokjin was your friend or that he might have even enjoyed your presence. He was just too goddamn nice and you were too goddamn stupid.

As the two of you get within a few blocks of the cafe, Seokjin’s hand brushes against yours. 

“Oh, sorry.” You’re quick to yank it away, almost burned by his touch, but to your surprise, Seokjin chases after it, fastening his palm against yours and intertwining your fingers. 

What was he doing?

“What are you doing?” For the first time since you started your rambling, you look at Seokjin, gape at him. But the timing is poor and now he’s staring straight ahead, not giving you a passing glance. 

“Do you really think I would have given you free drinks and sat next to you in class and talked to you every day if I didn’t at least like you a little bit?” You’re rendered speechless, eyes bugging out of your head.  

“I- um...”

“For being an accounting major, you really are the densest person I know.” His tone is light despite his blatant insults. “Don’t you realize I had a little crush on you, too? I was so excited when I realized we were going to share a class, but you never gave me the time of day.”

Your mouth opens and closes but no words leave it, not unlike a fish. 

“I've nearly asked you out at least three times now, but I kept chickening out.” 

The entire world feels like it’s flipped upside down. It’s like gravity’s stopped working and your head is spinning and you’re dizzy and your heart as burst and Seokjin’s hand enveloping yours is the only thing keeping you from floating away into the sky. 

The revelation smacks you in the face. 

Seokjin’s a liar. Not as genuine as you’d thought, after all. 

While you spent a semester pretending you liked coffee when really you just thought Seokjin was hot, he’d spent the next pretending he was only interested in your friendship when he’d been harboring a crush on you. 

You struggle to contain the small smile on your face. Seokjin’s hand gently squeezes yours and lightning shoots up your skin and spine. 

Seokjin’s eyes finally meet yours as the two of you stare sheepishly at each other. His gaze flickers to your lips a few times and you openly ogle at his, but he doesn’t lean in. He simply lifts your entwined hands and smiles, a short breath leaving his nostrils in place of a chuckle. It’s content and peaceful. There’s no need for love declarations or romantic kisses. You think you could be happy here forever knowing Seokjin wants you by his side. 

The moment ends when a raindrop hits your nose, startling the hell out of you. 

While you’re disoriented, Seokjin laughs and tugs you into the shop, now only a few steps away. The place is rather busy for it being lunchtime, but Seokjin weaves the two of you through the throng, stopping by the staff door. 

He looks at you with slight mischief. 

“You know, since it’s raining, you should probably just stay in here. Don’t wanna catch a cold.” You want to scoff, tell him that’s ridiculous and that your dorm is only a few minutes away. But you swallow your retort and let him have his moment. 

“Good idea,” you agree solemnly with a nod. 

“Actually, you should probably just stay until I’m off my shift. You never know when the rain might pick up again.” This time, you can’t help but quirk a brow. 

“Because you’re planning to protect me from the rain? You don’t have a jacket either.” Seokjin gives an offended look, like you’d just insulted his pride. 

“No, it’s so we can get sick together. It’d be romantic.” You scrunch your nose. Having fevers and runny noses and gross coughs together? Doesn’t seem like an ideal first date. 

“Sounds romantic.”

“I’m glad you agree.” 

You’re staring at each other again, in your own little bubble, until a customer brushes against your shoulder and you’re reminded that Seokjin is technically on payroll right now. He has a similar realization and reluctantly releases your hand, blowing a kiss over his shoulder as he steps through the staff door. You roll your eyes, feigning embarrassment, but on the inside, you’re melting. 

You plop down in your self-assigned seat in the most well-ventilated part of the cafe that also has a very convenient view of your favorite barista. The semester’s over and you have no work to do, but you don’t mind, content to watch Seokjin work while mindlessly giggling when he shoots you winks in between orders. 

You don’t fantasize or wonder where this might go. You don’t think your imagination could come up with anything better than what’s in front of you. 

You do predict, however, that you’ll be spending many more hours cooped up in this little cafe. 

Old habits die hard, you suppose.