#i barely knew how to use my windshield wipers when I left

[anilovie]

ive been researching mechanics and engineering so i can write a lil something about it with anakin…

im gonna come home from school after being away for months and months, and my dads gonna wonder why i suddenly know what a transmission is and how to change the car oil 🫣

[raplinesmoon]

Just Jin (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: Barbie!reader x Ken!Seokjin genres/au/rating: angst (with a happy ending!), fluff, Barbie au, break-up au, PG-13 summary: After a trip to the real world, you and Jin both come to a realization that will change your lives forever.

warnings: break-ups, sadness, existential crisis, mentions of doctor's appointments

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I'm still working on mafia!Hoseok but listen my brain has been wired since I came out of the Barbie movie earlier today. It legitimately changed me as a person, and I felt inspired to create this bc I think Jin gives off such Ken energy. This is based on but also slightly altered from the Barbie movie, and as such, it will contain massive spoilers for the movie, so read at your own risk (go see the movie tho)! Anyways this was just a fun, goofy indulgent drabble that made my heart warm, and I hope you enjoy!

Tip-toeing through the dream house, you try to ignore the sensation of your feet cramping. After learning the wonders of being flat-footed, standing on your heels was no joke. No wonder women in the real world complained about wearing stilettos all the time. But right now wasn’t about the pain women felt to conform to societal expectations of beauty. There were centuries to go before those outdated notions of what it meant to be a successful woman were squashed. Right now, there was something more pressing you had to deal with.

Things had changed since you left. The dream house seemed more like a nightmare, its pristine pink walls besmirched with posters of sports icons and various forms of taxidermy. You frown to yourself. This wasn’t the house you’d known. The life you’d lived before with Jin seemed nothing more than a distant memory, both of you tainted by your experiences in the real world.

Jin. Speaking of him, you knew you had to find him. When you’d learned from the others that he’d gone off the rails, worry clouded your mind. Not just for him, but for all the others – Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook too. They were all so impressionable, more fragile than they let on. It scared you to think of the state you might find him in right now. And that’s when you hear it.

The sound is muffled, but you can barely make it out against the quiet that nightfall brings. It’s a choked sob, guttural and raw in its devastation. And it’s coming from your bedroom. Ignoring the newfound feeling of your heart clutching in your chest, you square up your shoulders, ready to face what lay ahead. And then you head upstairs.

The door creaks as it opens, and you flinch, hoping the sound won’t give away your entry into the room. But there’s no response. Feeling braver, you push it wider and gasp at the state of everything. For all the horses and saloon decorations Jin had implemented downstairs, the upstairs of your dream house is pristine. Exactly untouched the same way you’d left it. The pearls on your lampstand glisten in the moonlight, the walls are free of garish posters, and the same plush pink and purple sheets adorn your bed. And in the middle of it, Jin lies facedown, unmoving.

Freezing, you take him in, noticing how small he looks right now, curled up into himself. Jin had always been larger than life – his windshield wiper laugh echoing down the entire beach, his dad jokes catching the admiration of everyone around him, a smile plastered onto his stupidly handsome face with those perfectly pouty lips. He’s wearing the same sleeveless denim outfit you’re always used to seeing him in, unlike the other boys, who’d bought into new and more trendy fashions. 

If he feels the bed dip when you sit next to him, he doesn’t show it. You finally reach for him, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder.

“Jin?” you whisper softly. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t move. Your heart sinks, knowing how difficult this was for both of you. But you needed to do this.

“Can we please talk?

That’s what gets him to rise, silky black hair disheveled and eyes rimmed with the red of his tears.

“What could you possibly want to talk about?” he croaks out, sniffling into his sleeve. “Everything is ruined.”

The same guilty feeling bubbles up in your chest, knowing part of him is right. Everything had been ruined. But not in the way you’d expected. When you and Seokjin had entered the real world, you’d been unprepared to have your lives change forever. No matter how much you tried to pretend that things could just go back to the same way they’d been before, they couldn’t. And both of you knew it.

“I’m sorry Jin,” you let out a sob of your own. “I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

Jin hardens at your sobs, straightening up, the sadness on his face morphing into a mask of fury.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” he bellows. “Sorry doesn’t cut it! This was supposed to be our dream house, ___! That's why I went through all the stupid decorations and the revamp! You think I like saloons? No! But this was supposed to be our dream! Us, together! It’s always been ___ and Jin. I don’t know how to be anything without you! I don’t want anything to change. I love you!”

You embrace his trembling body, pulling it in close to yours.

“I love you too Jin. I always have, and I always will. But I’m not sure that love is enough anymore.”

Jin pulls away from you, and you watch his eyes widen in surprise, giving you the strength to go on.

“When we were out there, something changed. I realized that while what we had was perfect, it’s okay to not be perfect all the time. Not everything is a dream come true. Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want them to, and that’s life. A-and I want to experience life Jin. I’m sick of just smiling all the time. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to laugh. And I want that for you too.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was you,” Jin breathes out softly. “It feels like I failed you.”

“Hey,” you reach out to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t fail me, or anyone else, okay? You’re enough. Maybe it’s time for us to stop being ___ and Jin. And to be just ___. And just Jin.”

He looks up at you, stars in his eyes, and you can see the sadness intertwined with hopefulness. “You really think we can find something better out there? Something that makes leaving this all behind worth it?”

You take his hand in yours.

“I know we can. And we will. But we can’t do it together. At least not right now.”

A tiny smile breaks out onto his face. “But maybe someday?”

You hesitate, not wanting to believe in false hope only to turn out devastated in the end. But Jin needed something to believe in. And so did you.

“Maybe someday, when we both have found out what makes us happy, what our reason is to live, we’ll find love again. We both deserve it.”

And Jin crumples for a second time in your arms that night, only this time it’s not from devastation. It’s the kindness in your voice that has him desperately believing that you could be right. That maybe someday both of you would figure out what these strange and complex emotions were - joy, happiness, fun. And real love. True love. They were, after all, what being a human was all about.

You thank the taxi driver, hopping out of the vehicle. Flexing your feet, you remark at how comfortable the new pink slides feel on them, your heels no longer arched and uncomfortably cramping. The sales associate had called them Birkenstocks, and you make a mental note to go back and buy a few other colors. 

The building is tall, sleek and modern not unlike the scary headquarters of some rich corporation that seeks to swindle the money of innocent consumers. But today, you’re not scared to go inside this building. You’re excited.

The excitement follows you up the elevator, a smile on your face. Hearing the ding! for your floor, you make your way out, when you’re stopped by the old woman next to you.

“You have a beautiful smile, dear.”

That only makes it grow wider.

“Thank you, you look beautiful too.”

You don’t know why, but the serene and dazed look on her face stays with you as you enter the glass doors to the office.

Making your way to the front desk, you practice the carefully rehearsed lines in your head. When you reach it, the receptionist is tapping away at the keyboard. 

“Hi!” You say brightly. “My name is ___ ____. I’m here for my gynecologist appointment!”

The receptionist finally peers out from behind the screen and you suck in a breath. Something about him seems so familiar. Broad shoulders, pouty lips, dark hair. But in your entire human life, you never recalled seeing him before. The weird sense of deja vu continues when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Nice to meet you, ___, and welcome to Bangtan Center for Women’s Health. My name is Ken Seokjin and I’ll be happy to help you get checked in today!”

You don’t know why you flush at his words, but you fidget with your fingers behind your back, hoping he can’t see you.

“Great Mr. Ken! It’s my first time here, so I’m kind of nervous.”

“Just call me Jin,” he smiles. “I’m happy to help out.”

He pauses for a moment, ears turning red, before continuing on:

“Say, you look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” you grin, before faltering. “But I don’t think so.”

“Well in that case, it’s nice to meet you again.” He reaches out over the counter, offering his hand, and you don't hesitate before enveloping it in yours, shivering at its warmth.

“Nice to meet you as well, just Jin.”

a/n pt. 2:  I realize this kind of deviated from the movie and some of its themes, but I had to make it work with their relationship hehe. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

[writingdesk-ravings]

59. Night Light

Status: Unedited Words: 1518

The car had left the parking lot, and a few hours later we arrived home. Even when the car wasn’t moving the windshield wipers struggled against the falling snow. The car was parked right where the town ended and the forest began, just like always. And just like always, I would have gotten out of the back seat and walked the rest of the way.

Fabian spoke just as my hand made contact with the handle. “Can I ask you something?” He said it with that same boyish smile I always see him have when he’s talking to a new girlfriend at school. I don’t smile back but I do answer with a nod. “Do you think we could stay at your house, just until the storm passes?” I wanted to say no. Everyone knew the rule was to never go to my house, but looking at the snowstorm, something human in me stirred. “We’re going to die if we don’t.” It was obvious that Ava was teasing, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Fine, but you listen to me.”

It was strange how quickly the storm cleared once we were near the house. Both of them stopped just before the fence and stared as if they were trying to make sure they were seeing right, even in the slightly-less-freezing-than-a-minute-ago weather. The lights in the eyes of the skulls on top of the fence were a beacon I often used in rough weather. I held open the creaky bone fence so that they wouldn’t have to touch any of it.

“Shoes off,” I said while I hit Ava on the shoulder lightly. They moved around silently and walked to the living room. Fabian was trying to act casual, but it was obvious he was on the lookout for anything else made of bones. Ava was just quiet. They sat down stiffly on the couch, and I took up my spot in my mother’s armchair. This was fine. She wouldn’t know. I would clean up before she got home.

Shit.

My walk through the house was slow, and accompanied by curious stares. No footsteps from upstairs, so she wasn’t there. I placed my ear on the old basement door. It was quiet there too. That was good. Quiet was good. I peeked my head into the kitchen. There were dirtied plates still in the sink. Clean those later.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

“So, why doesn’t your Mom let you have people over?” Fabian asked tentatively. “She likes privacy, we both do. But I think she’s just paranoid something happens to the chickens.” “You guys have chickens?” Ava spoke for the first time since we passed the fence. The air in the room seemed a bit calmer. “Yeah, I told you. That one time after the movie.” I cast a quick glance out of the window. The snowstorm was still going strong. At this rate, they’d have to stay the night. That wasn’t good.

“Yeah, I remember now. Honestly, I thought you were joking.” I couldn’t blame her. There weren’t many farmers in the area and it sounded weird enough in context at the time. “I saw you guys have a doggy door,” Fabian said through the awkward silence. “Do you have a dog?” “Yeah, he helps keep an eye on the chickens. Fights off coyotes, you know?” That was completely untrue. He was little more than a puppy, barely an adolescent and no other animals dared to venture near our house. “Is he… outside?” He didn’t sound completely sure of the question or himself. “No. I’m pretty sure he’s asleep right now. He gets stressed out during storms.” The dog bed was in my room and even if the little guy was a bit stupid he wouldn’t be out in weather like this. The wind howled and I decided to light a fire, at least for their sake. 

A movie filled the awkward silence and everything seemed to lift. We made a few jokes and Fabian paused now and then to make silly plot predictions. If I just hid them in the guest room when my mother came home, and let them out the next time she left everything would be fine.

Soft, clawed steps echoed from the top of the stairs, My dog slipped into the room with his nose to the ground. He saw the two on the couch and let out an ear-shattering bark. Both of them jumped back as he continued to growl. “Down, boy. Here!” He quickly jumped to my side, making himself comfortable on the floor all the while keeping an eye on the pair of guests. Some of his long hair joined the black clumps of it that already littered the carpet. “Um, he looks…nice,” Fabian said. Nikita was about hip-height when on all fours, and usually more cuddly. Though at that moment, he seemed just a little bit upset that his spot was taken. He growled lowly as Ava tiptoed out of her seat. “I think I’m going to check on the car.” She rushed out before I could say anything.

The storm outside could hardly be called that, but the snow still fell. I hoped she had a good enough sense of direction to make it back to the car. Worst case scenario she gets lost and freezes to death.

Nikita walked to where Ava was sitting but seemed to realize there wasn’t enough room for him with Fabian still there. He let out a puff of hair and plopped himself back down on the floor. “What kind of treats does he like?”

Fabian had about three dogs of his own, so I knew he’d be at least a little bit eager to try and befriend Nikita. I smiled while looking at the dog chew at that slightly itchy spot in his paw. “I can get you some of the treats he likes. I think he’ll warm up to you more if you feed him.” Fabian immediately nodded, looking at Nikita in quick bursts. 

I grabbed a few treats just in case and when I got back to the living room Nikita was busy circling Fabian. I let out a whistle to get him to back off and walked up to Fabian to hand him one of the treats. He gripped the finger for only a second before dropping it in surprise. Nikita was on it as soon as it hit the ground and already seemed more comfortable around Fabian now that he knew there was food. 

Fabian looked up at me, eyes blown wide. I pulled another finger from my pocket and held it out for him to take. “Well,” I asked, “do you want him to trust you or not?” He pushed a shaky hand forward to grip the severed gray finger. He pinched it between his own fingers, and it looked like he was trying to touch it with as little as him as possible. He held it at Nikita’s eye level and slowly moved the treat forward. Still, the dog snapped at it, nearly nipping his fingers. After Nikita was finished eating he pushed his nose up against Fabian’s thigh. He gave him a half-hearted head rub. He looked out of the window at the softly falling snow and then back at the crackling fire. 

Nikita left the room shortly after to go back upstairs and everything was quiet.

Fabian stood up. “I should go check on Ava. Thanks for the - um - everything, Lisa.” I followed him to the door and when he shot me a questioning look I said, “ I open the gate for you, you seem squeamish around bones.” He chuckled at that before we walked to the edge of my home in silence. 

I opened the gate for him and despite my better judgment called out to stop him just before he left. I took one of the skulls off from the top of the fence and handed it to him. The flames in the eyes glowed brightly against the opaque white around us. “Just in case, so that you don’t get lost on your way.” He took it with an uncomfortable look on his face and as he walked away, I wondered for a moment if I had done the right thing.

*It was early morning, and the snow had stopped falling. I didn’t stay up late enough to see my mother return home. The window to my room was covered in frost and I tiredly made my way over to it to clean it. I saw the fence. My mother was by it, replacing the skull that I had given to Fabian. She craned her neck up at the window and gave me a disapproving look, visible even from all the way down there. I laid back down in my bed and turned on the radio. The morning news report filled the chilly air: Ava Harrison was missing. In actuality, she was on our fence. Or more precisely, a piece of her was on our fence. I suppose her sense of direction wasn’t that good.

[s-cant-sleep]

Vol.1 On a rainy day, a mother

The last time I saw and stopped at the resting station, the sky was overcast but not yet raining. The empty field around us was bare, except for the occasional power pole and our tire tracks. Inside the public bus, the rain made the air feel sticky and seemed to be infused with bad breath. As the rain continued, the field outside became increasingly muddy.

He leaned against me, his forehead resting on my arm, and a few messy strands of hair sticking to his skin. Normally, I disliked skin-to-skin contact by damp sweat, finding the sensation of melding with another person's body unpleasant. However, today I particularly craved the intimacy with my little son.

I lowered my head to his, feeling the fuzziness and warmth of his soft hair with my cheek. As the rain continued to fall outside, I raised my left hand to caress his head.

He twisted his head slightly, then reached out his little hand to wrap his fist around my right ring finger, while keeping his head resting on my shoulder. I turned my face towards the window, holding back my tears and gazing at the sullen sky. I would never experience the day when my son's entire palm could tightly grip mine, despite my hands being smaller than usual.

The movement of the windshield wipers was the only sound on the bus. I wished that my pain could be wiped away as easily as the rain. Tears soaked my collar. I loathed my former devotion to faith, cursing the betrayal that not only devastated my life, but also my son's. No, I knew my faith was not wrong. It was the group's corruption that distorted that faith and led them to trust evil individuals. As I tightened my left fist, I despised the blindness of the group.

What kinds of stories would he hear about me? The thought swelled up my eyes once again.

The airtight, stifling bus made me suffocated, and I bit down on my left knuckle to suppress any audible sobs; luckily, neighbouring passengers were slumbering and nothing could bore them more than a long drive on a rainy day.

I had nothing to leave him, thanks to the new government. They’d known me so well as they’d chosen me before. I would be nothing but a vague image in my son's dreams.

I was also blinded by evil people. I clenched my fist tightly again. How could I have married him?

All I could leave my son was life itself – the first and last gift.

Rain continued to fall outside the bus window, the background blurred. I felt nervous. Why hadn't we reached the next resting station yet? Could someone be tailing us? Would Liang even come?

Then, a yellow building appeared in the distance. The rain made the red "Highway Resting Station" sign in the middle appear even gloomier. The ticket attendant cleared his throat.

"We have arrived at the resting station. Passengers needing to use the restroom, please do so quickly. We will gather on the bus in 15 minutes, and we won't wait for anyone who is late."

I put my mask back on and held him under a grey umbrella, following the daydreaming crowd towards the resting station. At the agreed place, I quietly handed him to Liang. He was still sound asleep.

I watched as the bus drove away and waited in the rest station. Thirty minutes later, I boarded another bus back to the city and cried under my mask.

[always-aqua]

36 questions and only us, please!

Thank you for asking!

36 Questions is based off of a podcast musical, which is centered around the 36 Questions that Lead To Love. Simple plot: Louis lies to Harry when they first meet, not thinking their meeting would lead to a relationship, and certainly not to a marriage. But it does and the lie just gets bigger and bigger until Harry finds out and runs away. Louis goes after him in attempts to salvage their relationship. He plans to come clean about everything, and then use the 36 questions (honestly this time) in hopes that Harry will re-fall in love with him. I’m about halfway through this fic but I fell out of love with writing before I could finish. Now that I am slowly defrosting, this will be the first fic after my big fic that I will attempt to get back into.

This is the beginning snip:

“My name is…” Louis trails off, the voice memo still recording on his phone. He’s sure the microphone picks up the sad sigh he lets out. He thinks about stopping the recording and starting over, but knows that’s not how this works. Especially not anymore. So instead, he inhales sharply and begins to speak again.

“For the record, it is November 3, 2021. In case you can’t hear the downpour, it’s raining. I am driving down to fuck knows where in the countryside, trying to find my ex-husband.”

Lie, Louis thinks to himself and pauses again, this time a bit more pregnant as he goes over the delineation between real and not real again.

“Correction, I am trying to find my husband. Harry is still my husband, at least for now. I am going on the record with the hopes that it will help make things right. In hopes that there will be no confusion. In hopes I can convince Harry I’m not lying. Anymore.”

He sighs and cranks the windshield wipers up to the next level. The rain isn’t all that heavy, but the storm clouds have hidden the moon so it’s dark and he is tired and worried that showing up at his destination might not be received all that well. Harry hasn’t spoken a word to Louis in nine days. He just...left. Louis is surprised that Harry did at least tell some of their friends where he was going. Actually, not friends, plural. Friend. Singular. And a friend Harry had to know would cave when pressed for answers.

Harry could have told Niall. Niall would have never told Louis. He made it very clear he also never wanted to speak to Louis again. But Harry told Liam. Louis knew Harry enough to know that on some subconscious level, that meant Harry wanted Louis to know where he was.

He knew Harry and he hoped this trip would convince Harry that he knew Louis, too.

“Right. So. My name,” he starts speaking into the voice memo again. “My name is Louis Tomlinson. I am twenty nine, almost 30 years old. I have known Harry for for six years. And...and I’ve been lying to him since the very first moment we met.”

——————

As for Only Us,

This is barely an idea of an idea. But the idea is there none the less. It’s a story of blind date set up turns into a very intense relationship between H & L which almost instantly becomes long distance. They try to make it work. They do. Their feelings are real but the distance is just not practical. They decide to end things, given how stressful the trying has become. Fast forward a few years and they both find themselves in the same place at the same time. They both resist falling back into something, fearful it could go away again, but each time they see each other, the resistance becomes less and less.

(This whole fic is based off of my husband and I setting up my best friend and his. I may or may not be projecting the happy ending into this fic that our friends didn’t get in real life. Sadly for real life, love isn’t always enough to keep people together.)

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jeno x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Sexual tension & Penetration. ➔Word count: 2,470

➔Summary: You haven't called your ex-boyfriend in two years, but he's the first person you call when you're in a bit of trouble. He comes when you call, thus sparking a night neither of you will be able to move on from.

Anon request #1: can I request an ex to lovers scenario with jeno where his ex and him decided to stay as friends and since always they had a huge tension and after 2 years they got really flirty or smth, thanks💖

Anon request #2: hi, I want to request a drabble about sex with jeno, thank you!!

Jeno looked at his buzzing cell phone and blinked lazily. He hadn't seen your number come up since you broke up with him, which had to have been two years ago. He had managed to stay friends with you over those two years, but you were never friendly enough to call each other at three in the morning. Still, Jeno picked up the call to hear static at the other end of the line, wondering if he would still feel the same when he heard the sound of your voice.

"Hello?"

There was more static. When he thought you might have pocket dialed him, and he was getting ready to hang up, he heard your voice. Time seemed to slow down in those moments.

"Jeno?" you said. "I don't have good service out here. I'm scared, Jeno."

Feeling his heart race, Jeno asked, "Where are you? What is going on?"

"Off the highway. My car broke down." you said. "Can you come get me?"

Jeno sprang out of bed immediately, tearing the covers from his naked body. He got dressed while keeping you on the phone with him, so that you weren't scared. He drove to where you were, pulling over to the side of the road. When you saw him, you got out of your car and stood awkwardly, wringing your hands together.

"I know I shouldn't have called you first," you started to say. "But i-"

"-It's okay." he said, meaning it.

Jeno was bone tired, but being in front of you made him more alert. Though you broke his heart, he was still so careful with yours. Jeno came over to your car to look at it, pulling up the hood like he had any idea what he was truly doing. You watched his muscles as he fiddled around with stuff, your eyes slightly glazing over.

"I don't know much about cars." he said, shutting the hood. "I'll call someone to come pick this up. Until then, I will drive you back home. It's too late for us to be waiting out here."

You nodded and followed him back to his car. He made the call quickly before setting his cell phone down in the cup holder. There was so much gratitude for him in the silence, but you couldn't seem to get any of your thoughts out. You were still thinking about his muscles, about how handsome he looked at nearly four in the morning.

"It's done," he said. "They'll pick your car up soon. You can figure out what to do about it tomorrow."

"Thank you." you said.

It had started to rain. A few droplets hit the front of his windshield before a whole sheet of rain came down, hitting the top of his roof as hard as rocks. He could barely see out of the windshield, so he decided to wait for the storm to pass. It was awkward inside of the car, and too quiet.

You cleared your throat. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Jeno looked over at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Seeing his expression, you realized what an invasive question it was. You tried backtracking, but you were sputtering your words enough to make Jeno laugh.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not seeing anyone."

You didn't know what you were thinking. Maybe you were too tired to think straight. Maybe it was the sound of the rain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you in the darkness of the car. You reached over and touched the hand that rested on the steering wheel until he looked you in your eyes.

"You got Lasik eye surgery." you said. "You used to look so cute in your glasses."

For Jeno, it was easy. There has always been sexual tension between you. Touching the top of your hand felt natural. He leaned over, grabbed your chin and kissed you. You made out, completely unaware that the rain had stopped. When everything slowed down, you were straddling Jeno in his seat, and his hands were on your ass. You parted, your eyes staying on his lips until he spoke.

"I should get you home." he said.

"You should come home with me." you said, surprising yourself more than him.

Jeno laughed and eased your body off of his. "I want that more than you know, but I don't think it's a good idea. I could never control myself around you. "

Jeno drove you home, the only sound in the car coming from the windshield wipers noisily wiping away droplets of rain. You followed the blades swiping left to right, your brain in a funk.

Breaking up with Jeno was one of your top ten mistakes. You weren't as wise as you are now. You didn't know what you had when you let it go. You had carried his hurt with you everywhere you went for two years. Though you remained as friends, there was always weird tension whenever you met up with each other. His group of friends didn't trust you, and your group of friends always took your side, even though each of them was in love with Jeno. Your shared friends didn't get into the middle of it, and you and Jeno spent 24 months skating around unspoken apologies.

"We never had a chance to talk alone." you said, finally getting the bravery to speak out. “There are a lot of things left unsaid.”

Jeno pulled up in front of your house. You weren't surprised he knew where you had moved to, because you had been dropping hints for months. You had always hoped Jeno would roll up one day and give you another chance you didn't quite think you deserved.

"We don't have to talk about it now. "It's early in the morning and we both could use some sleep," he said.

You hummed in agreement, looking out of the rain soaked window at your lonely, dark house. You looked up at the sky and wanted the sun to come up, to cast a pretty glow over you and soften the experience of sitting with your ex in his car.

"You're like my knight in shining armor." you said. "I owe you a lot."

You had your hand on the door handle. You wanted to lean over and kiss him the way he kissed you, but your bravery only went so far. Jeno seemed to be thinking a similar thing. His eyes fell to your lips. Before either of you could act, he unlocked his doors.

"Get some sleep." he said, rubbing his arms as if he were cold. "I'll check in tomorrow to see how you're doing. I don't want them overcharging you for their services. If you want, I can go with you to make sure they don't."

"Okay." was all you could say. You got out of the car, tapped on his window as a way to say thank you and walked up the pathway to your house. You touched your fingers to your lips and remembered the way he tasted.

Jeno stayed there idling while you put your lock into the door and turned the handle. Once you were safely inside, you didn't wait to see if he had driven away.

You walked into your home, not caring enough to flick lights on. You weren’t as tired as before. Making out with Jeno had felt like an IV of caffeine had slipped into your bloodstream. Your body felt swollen in places, your heart most of all. You walked through the rooms, taking off your bra underneath your t-shirt and flinging it across the back of your couch. Your foot was on the first step of your stairs when you heard a soft rapping sound on your front door. Backtracking, you walked back to the door and flung it open, crossing one of your arms against your chest to hide yourself.

“Hi,” Jeno said.

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes darting frantically around your face. You had no time to greet him back before he stepped over the threshold and took your lips against his. You moved your arm and let him smash his hard chest against your free breasts. Your nipples were aroused and you knew he could feel them against the thin material of his t-shirt. You threw your arms around his neck and clung to him, savoring the taste and feel of him.

“I know I said no but....” he said, between kisses. “It was very hard to watch you walk away from me just now.”

You kissed him and bit down on his lip, pulling it lightly with your teeth before letting go. “Take me to bed.” you said. “Or the floor...the couch..i don’t care, Jeno, just take me.”

Jeno picked you up into his arms. He shut your front door and locked it behind him without ever taking himself away from your lips. He was strong enough to carry you upstairs without struggling, which made you even more aroused than you already felt.

“To the left.” you whispered against his mouth.

It was strange having him in your new bedroom, yet, there was something familiar about seeing him amongst your possessions. He felt like he belonged. Jeno set you down on your bed and let out a groan of approval when you wouldn’t let go of his neck. You tried to trap him with your thighs, but he had pinned your arms above your head, which made you release him. Your body relaxed, half hanging off of your bed. Your stomach was bare where your shirt had ridden up, so Jeno leaned down to kiss it. He pushed it all the way up to expose your bare breasts and take them in your mouth one at a time. He was really going at it, feeling them and teasing them, when you put a stop to things and slipped out from underneath him.

“Can you give me a moment?” you asked, your face growing hot. “ I just need a second.”

Jeno sighed but agreed. He sat on the edge of your bed and watched you slink into your bathroom. You tried your best to freshen up, to get the 5 a.m stink off of you. Your mind was frantic and thinking of a million things that could go wrong. You realized that you were extremely nervous. The door to the bathroom slowly opened to reveal Jeno standing there with his hands in his pockets, and all of those thoughts faded like ghosts into the foreground.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crooking his finger. “Get over here.”

It was much easier than you thought it would be. It was like two friends getting together after a long time, friends that knew each other’s bodies inside and out. You tore off your shirt, not caring whether your armpits were sweating anymore. He met your breasts and moaned in appreciation as his mouth got back to business. On the bed, he rolled on top of you, laying kisses all down your body. You lifted your head up and let him nip at your neck. You took your hands and placed them underneath his t-shirt to touch his abs.

“Well,” you breathed. “This has changed.”

Jeno could only laugh. He took off his shirt and let you admire his body, which had definitely changed since the last time you took him to bed. You touched the hardness of his chest, down to the smoothness of tummy leading down to his cock, which you remembered in every detail. You sidled underneath him and let your tongue taste the salt on his skin. You bit down on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

Your body had changed, too. You were softer in a lot of places, which Jeno loved. He wanted to touch and savor all of you. There was an overeagerness to him that stifled any remaining awkwardness there could have been. He bit down on your shoulder in response, scraping his teeth against your skin before he met your mouth. His tongue wound its way around yours for a few seconds, just relishing the feeling of them together.

Once all the clothes were removed, a desperation started to change the atmosphere. Things were no longer silly. He didn’t laugh. You didn’t go anywhere but in his arms. The rain on the window was quiet but present. The sun was seeping into your skin where you lay underneath him. There was a moment where he grabbed your face between his hands and held you there, his thumb brushing across your cheek. He kissed you sweetly, his lips full.

When Jeno entered you, it was like all the memories of your sex life came flooding back. You would always miss him inside of you when he wasn’t there, miss the full feeling that came when he penetrated you for the very first time. You had missed the sounds his throat made whenever he concentrated on pleasuring you. You hadn’t forgotten how skilled his fingers were at fondling you, or how each stroke never failed to make you lose all thought. He fucked your body like it meant something in the morning glow. He didn’t slow down for anything, not even when he felt your fingernails digging into his back.

He had let you take control. You moved on top of him and sank down onto his cock, holding onto his arms as you did. With your hands pressed against his chest, you moved. You rode Jeno wildly, bucking against his pelvis with abandon. He tugged on your hair when you tilted your chin towards the ceiling. He gripped your waist. He smacked your ass. He did everything in his power to bring you back to him every time you slipped away. Your eyes eventually found him again. You moved lower and rode him, your sweaty body gliding against his. He held you, his thick arm around your neck as he felt your walls contract, as you came around his cock.

You wanted to cry out, wanted to bring the room down around you. You kept fucking him, wanting to coax the cum from his cock, to feel the warmth moving downwards with gravity. You wanted to keep it going forever, but it wasn’t meant to be. It had been a long time since you two had made love, and your bodies were too excited to hold back.

You knew there would be a talk somewhere in the future, when he was ready. As Jeno screwed up his face in orgasm, as you felt the warmth of his cum, you were a little too happy to prolong that conversation. You wanted him in your life for a long time but, for now, you would take him any way you could get him.

[monoxidecahedron]

home is where the heart is- jamilmads

I have, in fact, been writing! Have some Jamilmads. I’m working on Wings Of Privilege, I promise, but in the meantime here’s this. TW for alcohol/drunkenness

Thomas sighed. He’d gone to the bar to relax, not to deal with his very inebriated coworker, but here he was, standing outside with a drunk Alexander Hamilton leaning on him. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get you home.” 

“Home is where the heart is,” Alexander muttered. Thomas just shook his head. 

“Well, where do you sleep at night, then?” Alexander just turned away, ignoring him. “You’re my home,” he said, barely audible. Thomas froze. 

“You’re drunk,” he said, more to himself than to Alex. No. Alex didn’t mean it that way. Besides, James was waiting for him at home, loyal like he’d always been, steady and unyielding and always there. And yet here Thomas was, hoping Alex did mean it that way. 

After some prodding and a lot of nonsense on Alex’s part, it became clear that he was not going to tell Thomas where he lived. So he hauled Alex into the backseat of his car and set the route to his and James’ flat, the monotone “route set for Home” ringing in the quiet. As blurred lights flashed by the windows, beacons among the general darkness of the night, Alex was silent, seemingly thinking. Thomas took this time to get his thoughts in order.

He did love James, he really did. Truly. But- Alex. Alex with his fiery passion, his never-ending energy, the way something inside him seemed to spark when he fought, the way his words flowed, powerful and moving, even though the power was often directed against him. It was a dilemma he never seemed to be able to solve. On the one hand, there was James, cool and collected, a steady presence always near him, quiet but strong in its own way. On the other hand, there was Alexander, whirlwind of fire and fury, always moving, always climbing towards something, leaving everyone in the dust. Except Thomas. Thomas could keep up. Thomas was the one who was challenging him constantly, pushing his limits, one foot on the ground next to James and the other chasing Alex. 

The light turned red and Thomas braked. It had started raining, and the windows were blurred with water, a soft pattering sound indicating raindrops landing on the car. “You’re in love,” Alex said.

“Well of course, I’ve always been in love with James,” he responded, although his chest tightened as he shoved aside his feelings for Alex. The man in the backseat scrunched up his face.

 “No, with me,” he said. Thomas twisted in his seat to face him. 

“What-?” 

“Yeah,” Alex said, in his own world already. “Yeah, you love me. I mean, I wish.” 

“What?” 

“Never mind,” he huffed, crossing his arms. Thomas would have rolled his eyes at the childish behaviour, but he was still stuck on “I wish”. What did he mean? He wished Thomas loved him? That was silly, he thought, because I do love him. Alex gave him a strange look, almost like he was scrutinizing him. “What?” Thomas asked. 

“The light’s turned.” Thomas turned back to see that the light was, indeed, green. 

“Fuck!” The car started moving again.

“Mmmm, yes please,” Alex muttered, eyes closed sleepily. Thomas tried to ignore him and the mental images forming in his head, gripping the wheel tighter and staring determinedly at the road. The harsh swish-swish of the windshield wipers seemed to pierce the silence. Neither of them spoke. 

When they finally arrived at the flat, five minutes later, Thomas pulled an umbrella out of the car’s internal storage (silently thanking James for his constant refrain of ‘you never know’) and opened the door, going around to do the same for Alex. When it clicked open, Alex didn’t move, just sat there, quiet. Thomas sighed, climbing into the backseat and unbuckling Alex, prodding him a little bit. When he still didn’t move, he sighed again and picked him up, pulling him out and closing the door with his foot. Silently he worried about how easy it was to hold the small man in his arms, but he didn’t say anything, carrying him inside instead.

James, who had been sitting at the table inside, looked up immediately as the door swung open. “Thomas, who’s- is that Hamilton?” 

“Iss’ me,” Alex slurred, waving a floppy hand from Thomas’s bridal-style hold. Thomas moved, shutting the door behind him and dropping Alex on the couch. “James!” Alex said, smiling and attempting to get up at the sight of him. “Hi! Hello! It’s been a while since we’ve talked. I miss you!” James winced. 

“You do know it was you who screamed at me and ended our friendship, right?” Alexander’s face fell. 

“Oh. Yeah.” Then he waved a dismissive hand, brightening up again. “Ah well, doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” James, unimpressed, turned to Thomas. “Why is Hamilton here?” Thomas gave him a guilty smile. “I mean… I went to the bar but he was drunk out of his mind and I couldn’t exactly leave him there?” James sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You absolutely could have left him there! You could have- I don’t know, called a taxi! Call Laurens, if you have to!” Thomas sat down next to him. “Look, I know I probably could have, but-” There was no “but”. He had no idea why he’d brought Alex home. Well, actually. Scratch that. He knew exactly why he’d brought him home. He just didn’t want to admit it, and certainly not to James, his actual partner whom he was committed to, who loved him. James just shook his head. “Well, okay, Tom,” he said, “what do you propose we do?” 

“Me!” Alexander piped up from the couch. 

James blushed. “What?” 

Thomas winced, about to warn him not to engage, but oh well. Alex was already propping himself up, grinning. 

“Fuck me!” he said brightly. 

Thomas put his head in his hands. “Alex, just-”

“What?” Alex said, looking from Thomas to James. “You love me! You said so!” James looked stricken. 

“Thomas- I didn’t- I-” Thomas cut across him. 

“Alexander. Stop. Now,” he said tersely, every muscle tense. 

“Whaaaaaaat?” Alex sang. “I’m drunk! You said so!” James shook his head. 

“We have a guest room. You can stay there. Good night, Thomas.” Thomas watched him walk towards their room. He sighed, looking at Alex and wondering if he was worth James’ disappointment. Alex smiled, blissfully unaware as Thomas scooped him up and dumped him in the guest room. 

~~~

The room is filled with pleasant natural light when Alexander wakes up, streaming in through the curtains and highlighting him where he lies on the bed. His hair is a mess, and he feels terrible, he notices, taking stock of the rest of his body. He blinks his eyes open slowly. He looks up and there stands Thomas, leaning against the doorframe in nothing but a tank top. “Er. Hi,” he says, voice a little broken from sleep. Thomas starts, as if he was caught doing something wrong. “Hey.” Alex blinks again, trying to chase away the fog that seems to weigh down his mind. “So, uh, what happened?” Thomas shifts uncomfortably. Something about his movement triggers a memory, snippets of lights and rain and the scent of Thomas flashing through his mind.

You’re my home.

You love me! You said so!

I mean, I wish.

Fuck. How much damage did he do? 

The answer is evident in Thomas’s uncomfortable expression. “Al- Hamilton, look, I-” He starts to say something, but seems to stop himself, deciding instead to tell him, “James made breakfast for all of us, so…” Alex nods, tells him he’ll be out in a minute, watches him go. Wonders what the hell he can do to fix this. He knows. He knows and he doesn’t like him. Stupid, stupid Alex. All those times his mind wandered, all the times he thought he saw something, all those times James gave him a tiny scrap of attention that he clung to, twisting it in his mind into something more…

“I’m done!” Alex shouts. “I’m done dealing with your shit! Go- go fuck around with Jefferson for all I care!” James gives him a hurt look, but turns away silently and walks off. He was never one for direct confrontation.

Alex watches him go, wondering what he just did.

James walks into the room, following Jefferson in his gaudy magenta suit to a seat across the table, right across from him. It’s like they’re trying to distract him; James with his small smiles and kind eyes, Jefferson with his bright laugh and disarmingly handsome features. 

The meeting starts. Washington is talking about something; he knows it’s important, but he can’t tear his mind away from how Thomas’s arms would feel cradling him, James’ soft lips against his, the two of them cherishing him-

He manages to keep himself together for two weeks, until he rounds a corner and finds James pressed against Thomas, kissing like there’s no tomorrow. So that’s it. This is how it ends, he thinks, sinking down onto his knees in his office, head in his hands, sobbing. That’s it. He doesn’t stand a chance anymore. His competition is Thomas and his competition is James. How could he possibly expect one of them to choose him over the other, when they’re both so obviously perfect?

James pokes his head around the doorway. “Alex? You coming?” Alexander nods numbly, dragging himself up stumbling towards the door. James catches him, and Alex resists the urge to wrap his arms around him and slot himself against James’ warm body. Instead, he pushes him away, leaning on the doorframe and waving James off, insisting he’ll be fine. He won’t be fine, not when he’s just revealed his hand and James will never look at him the way he desperately wishes he would, but he can be alive, at least.

When he enters the main room, he finds Thomas and James sitting at the table, laughing at something he didn’t catch. It’s such a domestic scene and he feels his chest tighten at their familiarity. He and James had that once. Before he can sneak out the door, Thomas notices him and waves him over. “Alex! Glad you finally decided to join us.” Alex draws a chair and sits, staring determinedly down at his scrambled eggs. Maybe if he pretends this didn’t happen, if he ignores them-

“Alexander Hamilton, you are not ignoring us like a child,” James chides. Alex huffs. 

“What. What is it,” he snaps childishly. 

“Well, you said some things yesterday,” James starts, choosing to ignore that, his tone stiff and professional. “We’d rather like it if they were true.” 

“M-hm,” Alex mutters sarcastically. Then his head snaps up as he seems to process the words. “Wait, what?” 

“What he means,” Thomas cuts in, “is that James has been pining hopelessly for you for a while and he dragged me into it too and he wants you to like him back.” James shoots him a look, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “I literally admitted I liked him last night”. Alex just stares at the two of them. “Wait. So. You- you want- me?” 

“Well, yes, that’s the general idea,” Thomas says dryly. Alex nods slowly. 

“Okay. And. Uh. What about- you guys’s relationship?” His eloquence seems to have lost him, Thomas notices, making a mental note to tease him about “you guys’s” later. 

“We were thinking, if you’d like, you could join our pre-existing relationship,” James says. Unlike Alexander, he seems to gain eloquence in awkward or new situations, making him sound awfully like a lawyer. Alex seems to be thinking it over in his chair. 

“I- well, okay, I guess? It’s just, like, a lot? I don’t really- I didn’t expect this,” he says, quickly adding, “it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it’s all a lot to take in, I do like you guys, I really do, it’s just it’s a bit much a bit too suddenly.” 

“That’s okay,” Thomas says. “We can take it slower. Start with a date or something.” Now in more comfortable territory, Alex smirks. “Better be something good, prettyboy, or I’m dumping your ass.” 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. In hindsight, he probably should have recognized that Thomas would have absolutely taken that as a challenge, he thinks, staring openmouthed at the honest-to-god Ferrari that Thomas pulled up in. Said man just grins at him. “C’mon, Hamilton,” he says. “Get in.” 

As Alex pulls the door shut, James glances worriedly at him from the passenger seat. “Are you alright? I told Thomas it was too much but he wouldn’t listen-” 

“I’m fine,” Alex says. “Just- wow.” Thomas smirks, that devastatingly handsome, arrogant expression that Alex goes crazy for. “This fit your definition of  ‘something good?’” 

“I dunno,” he says fake-casually. “I don’t even know where we’re going.” 

“Well, you won’t for a while,” James interjects. “We’ve got a long drive, about forty-five minutes, so buckle up.” 

Forty-five minutes and one date at the pier later, Alexander stands back on his doorsteps, thoroughly tired and happy. Thomas and James insist on walking him to his door, and so there he stands, leaning against Thomas, whose fingers are running through his hair. “Goodnight, Alex,” James says, though he makes no move to go. Alex makes a muffled sound of protest against Thomas’s chest. Thomas laughs. “You have to get to bed, Lex, it’s late,” he says, and Alex can feel the vibrations in his chest. He makes another muffled sound. 

“M’ tired,” he mumbles, pressing his key into James’ hand. “You guys can put me to bed.”

“Alright then,” Thomas says, picking him up as James unlocks the door. It’s dark, and the crickets are chirping, audible even after they enter and shut the door behind them. Alex directs Thomas to his bedroom, and Thomas sets him down gently on the bed. “‘Night,” Alex mutters sleepily. James smiles. “Goodnight, Alexander,” he says. “Goodnight,” Thomas adds. Alexander is already fast asleep.

Yay! 2k of happy Jamilmads! Pleeeease leave a comment I’ll love you forever if you do and reblogs are greatly appreciated! This is your friendly reminder from your local frustrated Tumblr writer that likes do nothing!

~M

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 34

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky head back to New York.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Brief explicit sex, angst, mild anxiety attacks, fluff, dirty jokes

AO3

The shower was not, in fact, faster with the two of you in it.

It started off fine enough, with Bucky helping wash off the drying cum between your legs. Somehow, it escalated with you pressed chest first against the wall, moaning without shame against the tile. Bucky rubbed the tip of his cock between your folds, teasing you, making you beg for it until he pushed forward and slid all the way inside.

Bucky didn’t seem to have any kind of refractory period, and you didn’t either, so he fucked you right there against the wall. Your fingers were flat against the tile, his fingers intertwining with yours as he ground against you, the spray of water making everything wet and slippery and so much more obscene.

It didn’t last much longer than that. As soon as Bucky had one hand delved between your legs, padded finger carefully rubbing against your clit as the other gently cradled your throat, it was over. You came with a cry, knees buckling as your legs went weak. You would have fallen if Bucky hadn’t held you up, giving a strained groan as he spilled into you again.

This time, when he cleaned you, there was no danger of a fourth round. You could barely hold yourself up, leaning against Bucky for support as you floated on a blissful wave of tingly euphoria.

Bucky wasn’t nearly as content. He had that tight frown he wore when he was unhappy, usually at himself, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “Just… tired.”

“Because I drained you dry.”

“I’m anything but dry,” you said, giving the biggest shit-eating grin you could muster.

He sighed, gently scrubbing down the front of your thighs. You shivered appreciatively at the lovely attention.

“I got careless,” he muttered. “Should have stopped after the first time.”

“I’ll just nap on the way back.” You yawned involuntarily. Shit, maybe he had drained you a little too much. Oops. “You were gonna drive anyway, right? Just give me some carbs and I’ll be good as new.”

Bucky grunted but didn’t argue further, ending the argument with a kiss on top of your head. You could get used to resolving arguments this way.

After finishing cleaning up and toweling dry (or rather, Bucky toweled you dry while you hummed drunkenly against his chest), you headed downstairs for a quick breakfast. As suspected, you felt much better after scarfing down a bagel, a bowl of oatmeal, and a plate of pancakes and fruit. If being hungry and tired after sex was the biggest price you had to pay to have Bucky, you were more than willing.

Of course, it wasn’t the biggest price you had to pay, but you didn’t want to think about that whole situation. Being reminded of the fact that if you didn’t have sex with Bucky you’d die a terrible, painful death could really put a damper on your mood. It was a problem for another day, not for right now, when you had to focus on your last meal with the family and pretend you hadn’t just had your brains screwed out by a hot-ass demon.

Before you knew it, you were packed up and out the door, Monster’s carrier cradled in your arms as Bucky got the bags. Your aunt and uncle hugged you both, followed by you mom, squeezing you tightly before letting you go.

“Be safe on the drive. Text me when you get back. I’ll try calling you more, I miss talking to you, sweetie.”

“Me too, Mom,” you said, the guilt hurdling through your body like a ricocheting bullet. She had no idea the kind of danger and trauma you’d been through, and no matter what, you could never tell her. The least you could do was try to be better and contact her more often.

With a warm smile, your mom wrapped her arms around Bucky’s shoulders and gave him a tight squeeze.

“You take care now, Jacob. We loved having you over, so don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you for having me, ma’am,” he said, flashing a dazzling smile once they pulled apart. “It was a pleasure.”

You mom shot you a knowing smile after Bucky turned around, and you had to fight to not bury your face in your hands. At least she hadn’t said something like ‘oh no, the pleasure’s all my daughter’s.’

Ugh. Family.

You loved coming back home again, but you were also ready to get back to the city. Back to your own place where you could have a bit more privacy. It also meant you had to think about what came next.

The dilemma seemed to weigh heavily on Bucky’s mind as well; after he pulled the car away from the icy curb, he was quiet, but the tension in his jaw spoke volumes. After you were out of the Boston suburbs and on the highway, slower than the speed limit to account for the icy roads, Bucky said, “You can take a nap if you want.”

“I’m okay for now. If you don’t mind the company, that is.”

“I always love having you around.”

And just like that, your face was on fire.

“Bucky.”

“And you’re so cute when you’re flustered, too.”

When you glanced over, sure enough, he was grinning with those perfect white teeth full on display. You wished you had a hoodie to hide in but you’d opted to wear a sweater instead, so you buried your face in your hands.

“You can’t just say things like that.”

“What? That I like spending time with you?” He huffed. “Anyone’s who’s too embarrassed to tell you that stuff doesn’t deserve you.”

Now you were burying your face in your hands and slinking down in the seat.

“Aww c’mon. Is it that bad? Being complimented?”

“I’m just… not used to it, that’s all.”

There was a sudden warm weight on top of your head, fingers moved through your hair, and you instantly melted. Being petted by a demon probably shouldn’t have been so relaxing, but you leaned into his touch and lowered your hands into your lap.

“You really like that?” he asked with a tinge of amusement.

You made a mmhmm sound and closed your eyes, warm and safe. You didn’t want this trip to end, not knowing what came next, but maybe things would be all right.

Maybe because you felt so cozy and content you lost a bit of your filter. Or maybe Bucky’s fingers on your scalp coupled with the lack of sleep made you more open. For whatever reason, you broached the subject you’d both been avoiding since last night.

“It wasn’t that bad, you know,” you mumbled. “Being in that place with you.”

His hand stopped moving. No, you didn’t like that, keep petting me, damn it. But he didn’t, and when he pulled away entirely you nearly whined. It pulled you out of your stupor at least, and Bucky’s tense expression as he stared out the windshield made you regret saying anything at all.

But you had, and it was too late to take it back, so you pressed on.

“Really, it… it felt like a lifetime when I was there, but now it’s just like… a dream. Or fuzzy, like childhood memories. I don’t know how to explain it.”

The only sound between you were tires on the icy road, the hum of the heater, and the windshield wipers thumping back and forth at a regular rhythm.

“You had it worse,” you blurted. Oh, why had you brought it up? You should have at least waited until you got back to the city, not when you were trapped in a car together. “You had to actually live all that stuff.”

“You lived it too.” He was almost too quiet to hear. “You did.”

That was all he said, at least for so long you thought the conversation was officially over. You stared out the passenger window, watching the flakes pound against the glass, when Bucky asked:

“What was it like? Being inside someone’s head?”

Even though his tone was carefully blank, it was a curious question, and you were happy to answer it if it got him talking.

“Kind of… weird? But I got used to it pretty fast. Sometimes I could zone out and not really pay attention to what you were doing. So I could… you know, give you privacy.” Your face grew warmer and you didn’t dare look at him. “And other times, I could be very present and felt what you were feeling. It really wasn’t that bad. Especially when… uh…when I kept you warm, and stuff.”

Yep, your face was on fire again, but it made it all worth it when he gave an amused snort.

“I never did thank you for that. I’m pretty sure I would have froze to death otherwise. And I didn’t even know who you were, or what you were, and I wanted to…”

Wanted to what?

He never said, because the conversation truly died there, and you didn’t have the heart to revive it. Not with the mournful look on his face as he drove.

You propped your arm up on the window and made a pillow out of it, hoping if you took a nap you might be more clear-headed, and if not that, at least you could leave Bucky alone with his thoughts. Worried you’d pushed him too far and too fast, you didn’t think you’d fall asleep, but the thrum of the car engine lulled you into a doze. When next you opened your eyes, the car was stopped, pulled up to a pump at a gas station. The car was still on, the heater keeping the car comfortably warm, but Bucky was nowhere in sight.

Panic shot through you like a thunderbolt, and you shoved open the door, holding on to it as you frantically searched the parking lot. There were people around so you didn’t start yelling for Bucky like a crazy person, but your heart was beating against your ribcage like a trapped animal.

Where could Bucky have gone? Did someone capture him? You didn’t believe he would have left on his own, no way, not after… not after everything that had happened the past few days.

He wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t—

“Sweetheart?”

You spun around so hard you nearly lost your footing, but you grabbed the roof of the car and regained your balance. Bucky still gripped you by the shoulder, concern creasing his brows.

“Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I just saw you were gone and got worried, that’s all.” And now you also felt like the world’s biggest idiot, or at least the world’s clingiest person.

Bucky released his breath and dropped his hand.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“I scared you?” You were pretty sure your heart was still beating a mile a minute, and you were definitely still out of breath. “What do you mean I scared you?”

“I was inside paying for gas, and next thing I feel is your terror—I thought someone had attacked you.”

“That’s what I thought had happened to you!”

Bucky sighed and pushed the hair back from his face with a gloved hand, and then gave you an exasperated but fond look.

“You think we’re being a little co-dependent?” you asked, sheepish.

“Sweetheart.” His unfairly sexy mouth quirked as he rolled his eyes. “We’re literally bound by demon magic.”

“Oh. Yeah, good point.”

He kissed you on the top of your head and instantly the tension leeched from your body. Bucky really could play your body like an instrument, couldn’t he.

“Well, now that you’re back,” you said with a wince, “I gotta go pee. And maybe pick up some snacks, I’m still really hungry.”

“That’ll be from the, uh… multiple feedings.” His smile vanished, replaced by concern. “Do you want me to—I should come with you?”

“I think only one of us should be subjected to the horrors of gas station restrooms. Plus, someone needs to stay and watch the child.”

Bucky blinked in confusion and then grimaced. You shook your finger at him.

“Monster is baby, and you keep an eye on him. I’ll be right back,” you added when he switched back into worry-mode. “If I’m in danger, sounds like you’ll know it, yes?”

Bucky grumbled an affirmative, and you turned away. Paused. Turned back around and walked up to him. His eyes widened as you planted a kiss on his cheek, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intensely pleased with yourself for his reaction.

After you braved the disgusting bathroom and picked up a couple snacks demanded by your rumbling stomach, you paused in front of a humming machine. You stared at the swirling glass in front of you, lost in the memory of a red-washed dune.

You snapped out of it, set down your snacks, and grabbed two huge plastic cups to fill.

By the time you returned outside, the car was fueled and Bucky was leaning against the side with his arms crossed over his chest. To an outsider he would appear calm, but tightness of his shoulders and the fraught lines of his face told you a different story.

Bucky took the overfilling snacks from your arms to your gratitude. He raised an eyebrow at the sheer volume of them, and you shrugged.

“I was hungry. You’re welcome to my snacks, too. Oh, and… I got this for you.”

You held out one of the Big Gulps. The plastic was a solid blue and red, so Bucky couldn’t see what was inside until he looked down the transparent domed lid.

He stared at it. And stared. It was cold enough to snow, and you were sweating.

“I know it’s not… not blueberry-flavored. They don’t really do that anymore, use real ingredients for this kind of junk. But it is blue, and it’s an Icee, so I figured…” Your voice trailed off. Bucky continued to stare.

And then his eyes started to water.

“Oh, no,” you whispered, horrified. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t mean to—“

Bucky pulled you into a tight embrace. Right there, in the gas station, for all to see.

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” One arm across the back of your shoulders and the other around your waist, he squeezed you, holding you tightly to his chest. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t understand why it happened. How you got stuck in the demon realm place with me. I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t… I didn’t know… I should have known, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry.”

“Bucky…” You melted into his hold, kept warm from the biting temperatures. But it didn’t protect you from your guilt of hiding the truth. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault what had happened. You were responsible, even if it had been an accident, but you were too afraid to tell him what the Ancient One had said. You had no idea how he would react, and you wanted to get back to the city before dropping that bomb on him.

“Please don’t apologize,” you said, muffled by his jacket. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that bad on my end. Like I told you, it was kind of like a dream. It’s already faded a little.”

Which was true. Somewhat. There were a few moments that would stick with you for the rest of your life, like the mummified corpse with the sigil on its shoulder. You had no doubt it was a human enslaved to a demon, but what you didn’t know was how they had ended up on that world. It would be the subject of more nightmares, that was for sure.

Not to mention the whole watching Bucky die in front of you thing, but if you thought about that for even a moment you’d probably have a nervous breakdown. The only thing that kept it at bay was the constant reminder that Bucky was alive and well.

All in all, you were coping fairly well, and if anything, you were more worried about Bucky. He’d actually been there physically while you’d only experienced the time-loop through him.

Or… that was your guess, anyway. Who knew how these things worked? Hopefully, the wizards.

“I’m still sorry you had to go through all of that,” he said, warm breath tickling your hair. “If I’d known that was going to happen, I never would have tried to show you those memories.”

You couldn’t reach your arms around him, protectively holding your Icee so he wouldn’t crush it, so you leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“We’re both here and we’re both okay,” you said, “so that’s what I’m going to focus on.”

Bucky had an odd expression. It was part wistful, sad, and something else. You couldn’t figure out what it was before he gave a defeated smile.

“All right, all right.”

“I’m serious, Barnes.” You prodded his chest playfully. “You’ve seen my family. One demon isn’t going to intimidate me. We’ll figure out what happened with the memories, but you are not allowed to blame yourself. I forbid it.”

The strange, sad look vanished, and Bucky released you with one arm, the other kept around your waist. Your skin tingled at the casual touch. Would you ever get used to this?

Bucky stared down at the slushy in suspicion, then he took a cautious sip of the straw and grimaced.

“Jesus. What’s it with people these days and sugar? You tryin’ to give kids diabetes?”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned, and grabbed your snacks. Bucky wasn’t going to get any if he was going to complain about your junk food choices.

“What? It’s a serious question,” he continued as you both got into the car. “It won’t do anything to me, but what about your poor liver?”

“I’m pretty sure my liver is glowing with vitality after all the demon sex I’ve had.”

It took a beat for him to respond. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“That.” He turned his head very slowly, and peered at you. “Is not how it works.”

You grinned and slouched back in your seat, sticking your straw in your mouth and slurping as obnoxiously as possible. Bucky shook his head before putting the car into gear, the softness of his smile fading too quickly, and the faint sadness you didn’t like returned.

Next Chapter

[sebbybooks]

Never Mine

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

Part One

"With my dog as my witness, to whoever was riding my ass if they didn't back off my bumper I was going to stop in the middle of the road and rip their windshield wipers completely off!"

That type of anger coiled around me like a snake, because there was nothing that bugged me more than someone driving bumper to bumper. The long and exasperated breath I just released helped ease the tension out of my body temporarily. Just in time for reason to settle in. Though in reality it wasn't like I was actually going to jump out of my car and confront this road demon. Who clearly needed to take a course on etiquettes of the road. What I did know was that whoever was behind the wheel of the car had headlights that were so blinding I am sure extraterrestrials in space could spot them.

Trying to find the calm in the situation I focused on the road ahead of me. What little road I could see for that matter. Which wasn't exactly much. I had checked the forecast earlier in the day with the report of it showing that there was to be only clear and blue skies. By the amount of downpour before me you would think there was a tear in the sky if that was how rain fell. I just needed to hang tight for a few more miles until I reached my exit to stop for the night.

I had been driving for nine consecutive hours and it wasn't until the third hour I realized I was not cut out for long distance driving. The plane ticket I turned down from my father was starting to look like a missed opportunity. I opted out for Cooper's sake. I just rescued the little guy a few short weeks ago and I didn't have the heart to leave him alone so soon.

Despite having only six more hours of this painful drive I needed out of my car. A hot shower and a bed was calling my name like a siren's call was to a dazed sailor at sea. I was fervidly drawn to it. Granted, I wasn't exactly going the speed limit in my own defense. Simply because I chose to be a cautious driver not a careless one unlike the dip shit behind me. Cooper and I were going to get to Sonoma, California in one piece if I had anything to do with it! I had no intention to speed in the rain even if it annoyed the person behind me. After all I was driving down a one lane road there was literally nothing else I could do but drive forward.

Taking a glance up at my trusty Garmin my gps projected that at this rate I wouldn't make it to my hotel for another hour and a half. Ahead of me the sky was starting to look like a terrifying shade of gray and to top it off the dismal weather was becoming more and more hard to drive in. I could barely see the paint on the pavement. My defrosters seemed to have given up on me as I began to notice that my rearview mirror fogged up as though it was twilight hour.

I needed to pull over to try to wait out the heavy rainfall. The only problem was that I did not know where I was nor could I see where the road even had an end. The cheap gas station coffee was starting to wear off and the pep talks could no longer motivate me. The words of encouragement quickly transitioned into self deprecating quips of "I can not fucking do this!"

I was too far from home to turn back now and hearing a lecture from my dad despite being well beyond the ages of even receiving one, certainly would not stop him from scolding at my absence. I am more than certain that fiancée number three would not mind if I missed their prenuptial celebration. Especially if arriving on time meant I would be showing up dismembered. It was official I was going to die in this storm.

All of sudden like I called upon a bad omen my tiny Kia Forte jerked forward. I thought I accidentally stomped on the gas pedal too hard without realizing it. When it happened again I knew exactly what it was. Clearly the driver had mistaken this for a game of bumper cars. I laid the palm of my hand on the center of my steering wheel and relentlessly pressed my horn. Not sure what that was going to necessarily ward off , but I had to try something in the efforts that they would leave me alone.

Cooper's head shot up from his bed in the backseat. He looked just as displeased and annoyed as I felt. Why wouldn't they slow down? Is the question I could not figure out. I don't know if it was all the Stephen King that I read, but my paranoia was increasing as I started to settle on the possibility that they were now following me.

Maybe I was tired?

Maybe my imagination truly was getting the best of me?

Or maybe whoever that person was also suddenly decided to take the same random exit as I was taking.

I didn't think. I veered my car off to the right and got on the first breakaway from this seemingly endless road. I had no idea where I was headed at this point and neither did my Garmin. It made multiple attempts to reroute itself, but even that could not locate where I was. I took an unexpected detour by driving off into the middle of nowhere with a now stalker in my midsts.

Adrenaline now filling up my bloodstream. I gave my steering wheel the death grip and drove as fast as the tire tracks of my car would guide me. On a midsize billboard to my left I saw a logo for a gas station and a non franchised bed & breakfast saying it was right up the road. I was taking a chance by trusting that the establishment was clean and safe. I just needed to go where a crowd of people would be. The battery on my phone was likely dead and yes this was now becoming the opening sequence for a King novel. I'd laugh if my heart wasn't fluttering as fast a hummingbird's wing.

I managed to make out lights ahead as I neared the petrol station first. However, it just about looked abandoned. The dim white lights flickered around the desolate parking lot. I saw only two freight trucks parked side by side and I immediately thought

. . .hell no.

I kept driving forward in the hopes that the bed and breakfast sign wasn't last updated in the early nineties. I nearly combusted from relief when I finally saw it. Several cars and mini vans lined up with people inside of them probably doing the same thing that I was. I didn't plan on staying the night I just planned on staying long enough to hide out from the rain and from the trouble that still followed my trails.

Luckily there were free parking spaces close to the entrance. It was still hard to make out what the place truly looked like. From my view in the car the rain made it look like it was a melting oil painting. In a swift motion I put my car in park, turned my ignition off, reached in the back to grab Cooper and grabbed ahold of my purse in the other arm. I bolted out of my car for the door.

It felt as though I was running through a hurricane. I was completely drenched. I could barely keep my eyes from closing as I ran up the slippery steps in my worn Toms praying that I wouldn't eat concrete. There was an awning over the door that offered relief from the storm's cruel embrace . Looking down at the fuzzy brown welcome mat I noticed a quote was scribbled out on it.

"some beautiful paths

can't be discovered without getting lost."

As I reached for the doorknob I couldn't help but notice the intricate design. I'm aware of how wrong the timing was to fawn over something so utterly mundane. I just could not conceal the fact that I was a sucker for antiques roadshow and architectural designing. Growing up with a dad that built and reconstructed vintage furniture one might pick up on the interest. It was a white privacy doorknob with hand painted roses, with a Victorian long plated silver keyhole. The sound of distant car door slamming snapped me out of my daze. I turned my head in the direction of the sound low and behold it was that same car. Crazy thing is I didn't see anyone by it.

Instinct guided me forward considering my brain was scrambling with worry. I ushered myself inside and it was as though I fell into a pink wonderland. From the pink carpet to the multicolored pink pinstripe wallpaper. Hot pink roses seemed to have been the main theme for the lobby. There were various black and silver picture frames with photos of pink roses hanging on every wall. On every surface my eyes could catch, red and pink plastic roses sat in circular olive green vases. It was certainly....something. I thought I was doing the most logical thing by coming inside, but it quickly dawned on me that I saw no one around.

"Hello?" I cautiously called out.

I paced myself as I walked up to the front desk, simultaneously looking around for any potential red flags. My right arm was going numb, my little guy was tiny but felt like I was lugging around a sack of potatoes. I wandered away from the desk to poke my head around the place. There was a entry way that led to a dinning area with a handful of seats adorned with of course pink table settings. I was standing next to a spiral staircase to what I assumed led to the rooms. There was only one door that held a sign for a bathroom. Perhaps there was a power outlet I could use long enough to charge my phone to call my dad.

The same door I walked in swung open and droplets of rain was blown in by the wind. A shiver rolled down my spine, sending a myriad of sparks that shot through my body. Turning around a strange sensation filled the pits of my stomach. It felt like butterflies and moths had taken up space there. Excitement and fear. I just stood completely mute like I had never seen a man before. Well to my defense I hadn't seen ones that look like him in my town. Without even seeing my reflection I had an inkling as to the state of my appearance. I was utterly perplexed by how he pulled off the kissed by an ocean look. To embarrass myself further of course my dog chose that moment to shake water off of his fur on to me.

"Really Coop?" I tried to hide my disgust, but he got it around the corner of my mouth! The good looking stranger offered a half smile that probably pitied my overall state.

"Is the black Kia parked out yours?" Even his voiced oozed sex appeal. He angled his frame so he could face me. There was about an arm length of distance between us. His eyes practically bore into my face I suppose waiting for me to say something. Must have been the buzzcut, the facial scuff, or the fact that some creep was still parked outside waiting to do who knows what. But my thoughts were not where they should have been.

I blinked and straightened up my posture. "Yeah why?" I finally answered.

It was a causal question, yet it felt completely random like there was something else to it.Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.The silence was so thick it would take a hacksaw to cut through.

"Well I'll be damned! I didn't think I would get to see you until after you got back from your trip in California." A woman most likely in her late sixties came rushing down the stairs for him. She draped her arms around his body clearly taking him by surprise. Her cotton candy colored pink bouffant made up for most of her height. Sebastian returned her embrace. Although it looked extremely awkward considering he stared at me the whole time and I stood there watching.

"Moe's old truck didn't give you too much trouble did it?" She asked.

"No it still got some life left in it." Sebastian's jaw went slack and he looked from her to me once more. Only this time he was looking at me with a cold glare. Realization suddenly crashed into me like a wild horse.

[morceid]

Snowy Sniffles

💡SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN💡

read on ao3

Summary: Derek gets the flu when he and Spencer are snowed in on a case in Colorado.

Word Count:  2k

Category: fluff, slight angst

Content Warnings: swearing, sickness, case details

A/N: enjoy my otp being cute and cuddly for my first day of 12 days of moreid :)

The snowy mountains of Colorado. A serial killer as cold as the air was out there, and It was the job of the BAU to catch him.

The team boarded their plane like normal, occasionally Derek coughed and cleared his throat. Not enough to realize what was happening, but enough to get a “You okay?” from JJ.

There weren’t many hiccups with local police, except for them withholding information about the victims. Derek and Spencer were sent to profile the dump site, JJ and Emily to interview victims' families, while Rossi and Hotch set up at the station.

The dump site was in a clearing next to a mountain frequently used for sledding. A visiting family from Texas was recommended the mountain by a friend and since they weren’t familiar with the area, the mom got lost and they came across the body. Thankfully the kids weren’t there to see it.

Spencer and Derek walked out of the black SUV and ducked under the police tape in their fleece jackets and large boots. 

“The victim was Hannah Gentry. She was a fourteen year old girl who ran away from her abusive father. No sign of sexual assault, but there were signs of restrains on her thighs and around her stomach.” Spencer walked around the area the body had previously been found, searching for anything left behind by the unsub.

“Maybe he thought he was saving these girls. How old were each of the victims?” Derek said, pulling tissues from jacket pocket.

“Ages ranged from 13 to 19. All had someone abusive close to them. You sure you’re okay?”

Before Derek could reply he was coughing and gagging into the torn kleenex in his hand.

“I’ll be fine,” The stuffiness in his nose was apparent in his voice now. “Let’s go back to the station. I’m sure Rossi and Hotch are at the M.E. now.”

The two walked back to the car and headed towards the police station. On the way it started snowing and Spencer said something about growing up in Vegas without snow, and how in Virginia they never really saw the snow fall, they just woke up to it on the ground and in the streets.

Between the snowfall rapidly increasing, the windshield wipers not doing anything to help, and Derek driving in an unfamiliar area, he began having a coughing fit and swerved off the road.

They didn’t get hurt in the accident, just a large rush of adrenaline, but the car wasn’t in the best shape. The engine made a sound that contorted Spencer’s face.

“We should probably check that.”

Derek tried to push his door open but he had driven into a ditch and snow was piled up tp his window. He rolled it down and shoveled some of the snow with his gloved hands. He got the door all the way open with a little wrestling of the handle. The boot of the car was opened and steam was rising from it. Spencer had crawled across the center console and got out from Derek’s side.

“Do you think we could get an officer to pick us up?” Derek sniffled.

“I think the snow is coming down too hard now.” Spencer’s black coat was powdered with snow that he didn’t bother to shake off, knowing it would be back there in an instant.

“I’ll call Hotch.” Derek fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You fell in a ditch? Morgan, this is a very time sensitive case. This guy kills every three days and it’s been the second day since the last body was found. We need you guys here.” Spencer overheard Hotch’s near yells over the phone.

“Okay, dad, calm down there. I’ll call up Garcia to find us the closest hotel and we’ll crash there. Reid says snowing too much for an officer to come pick us up.” It was around 7:30 and the sun was starting to set.

“Alright, we can send someone to get you tomorrow.” Hotch hung up and Derek called Penelope.

“Hey-llo my chocolate thunder! Anything I could do for you?”

Derek coughed a couple of times.

“You okay, Derek?”

“Yeah, uh, me and Reid got stuck in the snow and we can’t get back to the hotel. Are there any near us that we can crash at?”

“You’re in luck, Derek Morgan, There is a motel only a seven minute walk away from you. Anything else?”

“Not right now, baby girl, take care of yourself.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Spencer had begun chewing on his fingernails and pacing in a circle around the car.

“Kid,” Derek took Spencer’s cold hands into his warm, gloved ones. “Stop your worrying. I can see all of those gears in your head going a million miles an hour. Garcia found a motel near us and we can walk there and stay the night until someone can pick us up. We’ll be okay.”

“I know I’m gonna be okay, it’s you I’m worried about, Morgan.” Spencer took his hands out of Derek’s and leaned into the car to grab his bag.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” As if on cue, Derek started having a coughing fit.

“I’m talking about that, Derek. You’re showing signs of getting the flu. Your heart rate has sped up by 39% in the last couple of days. You constantly have a running nose and you won’t stop coughing. I am not getting sick, I cannot afford to get sick, especially on a case, so I hope this motel has two beds.” Spencer pushed away from Derek and began walking.

“Wait!” Derek ran to catch up. “Pretty boy, you’ve already been with me for almost 24 hours. I think you are already infected. Besides, you, my friend, are shivering. Now let me give you one of my coats.”

Spencer slowed his walking and let Derek drape his second jacket over his thin, purple one. Having a crush on your coworker was the worst.

When the pair reached the motel the sun had fully set and they had snow covering their shoulders and resting on their heads. They brushed it off before entering, where they were bombarded with the overwhelming scent of perfume as what could only be presumed as the owner tugged them in with both of her arms. She was short and wore a sparkly pink dress not unlike one Penelope would wear.

“What can I do for you kind fellows today? Did ya crash on the side of the road? Lots of people did tonight. Can I get you a room? Was it your engine? Faulty car?” The woman rambled.

“Um, we fell in a ditch a little bit back. We just need two rooms for the night,” Spencer looked down at her nametag, “Sasha. Thank you.”

“Well, boys, I am sorry to disappoint but we only have one more room for the night. You’re just gonna have to share.”

“Are there at least two beds?” Spencer whined.

“Sorry,” Sasha took Derek’s credit card and punched in the numbers on a computer that looked almost a decade old. “You good there? You look like you could throw up any second?”

“I’m fine, ma’am. Just give us the room key please.” Derek cleared his throat.

“Alrighty, there you go FBI guys.” Sasha handed them the room key labed 7B.

Given the overwhelming personality that brought them in, neither had a chance to look around and profile the front office. When they got to the room they realized just how miserable the stay would be.

The heater seemed to be turned off resulting in the room being colder than the outside. Complementary water bottles on the nightstand had frozen, expanded, and exploded. The pipes in the walls creaked and whined. Derek moved towards the bed, which when he pulled up the sheets, they were stiff and barely moved at his touch. Spencer moved past the bed and to the kitchen, where he found a coffee machine and cups in the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Derek coughed.

“Making coffee. It’s something to keep me warm.” Spencer still had Derek’s jacket across his shoulders.

“Alright well, you might be right. I think I’m starting to get a fever. I’m gonna hop in the shower. Hopefully it’s just the reverse air conditioning that’s broken.”

Derek’s observations were proven correct as he unexpectedly walked into the spray of a nearly boiling shower. His muscles relaxed as he began thinking about the events of the day. His nose ran more than it had in the cold weather and it reminded him of a moment in the office that happened some while ago, back when Spencer first joined the BAU.

It was a slow day in the bullpen. With Spencer being nearly fresh from college, Derek wasn’t expecting him to take the best care of himself, no one was. Derek looked up, ready to throw Spencer a rolled up note about how bored he was. Instead he was greeted with an empty desk. After asking Hotch where the boy genius was and getting a surprised ‘I don’t know’ in response, he went in search of him. Spencer was found laying on the couch in an empty office. HIs skin was red and burning to the touch. Derek gave him a couple of shakes and he woke up, groaning. Spencer had gotten the flu and didn’t know how to deal with it at work. Not wanting to disappoint Hotch by skipping a day for something so insignificant as a virus, he settled in an office he correctly assumed was vacant. He insisted that he was okay but Derek refused to believe him. He dropped Spencer off at his apartment and immediately knew. He was in love with Spencer Reid. And he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

When Derek was in the shower for at least 15 minutes Spencer presumed that the shower was warm, so he called Sasha at the front desk from the phone in the room. She wouldn’t be able to get someone to come fix it for another day. He sat on the bed, spreading his arms and legs out in an attempt to warm the sheets. Letting his mind wander, he started asking himself questions. Why did he like Derek? He was just his coworker. Just someone in his life. An attractive person in his life, but just like anyone else in his life. Did Derek know how much he meant to him? Would he ever know? Would he be given the chance to let Derek know that he loved him and wanted to spend his life with the other knowing?

He was taken out of his day dream when Derek came out of the bathroom. Derek was shaking. He wore thick, flannel sweatpants and a grey hoodie, along with his socks, not wanting to leave a single part of his body too exposed.

“Uh, I know you’re super germaphobic and probably want nothing to do with my running nose and sore throat right now, but kid, all of my muscles are aching. Do you mind if I-”

“Not at all.” Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek’s middle as he sank onto the bed.

Derek let out a sigh of relief and settled in Spencer’s arms. It wasn’t long until his breathing evened out and he fell asleep in the lanky man’s arms.

“I think I love you, Derek Morgan.” Spencer whispered.

The next day Hotch called Derek to let him know that they caught the unsub. He was an amateur child groomer who left a hair in his latest victims mouth. An officer picked up the pair from the motel and they boarded the jet. Derek’s flu passed as soon as it came and he was better in the morning. A little cuddling with Spencer was just what the doctor ordered.

“Hey, Spencer.” Derek sat across from him after everyone on the jet had fallen asleep.

“Yes, Derek?” Spencer noted the use of his first name in his head.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“What about it?”

“I heard you, Spencer.”

“Wh-what are you talking about? Heard me say what?”

“Spencer,” Derek put his hand on the other’s knee, “I love you too.”

In a panic, Spencer leaned forward and pecked Derek on the lips.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He stammered.

“It’s okay. We can do that if you want.” Derek leaned back in for a real kiss from Spencer. He still tasted like the cheap hotel coffee.

“We can do anything as long as we’re together.”

TAGLIST: @greenaway-lewis @pretty-b0yy @w0rmpi3 @sunflowrly @fuckshitupm8-deactivated3728 @the-sassy-one @endetit @adhd-lesbian @nobody121113​ @stalinthestripper​

[eivorsjawline]

tw: the usual blood and cuts visuals

Chapter 7: Turn Back Time

Reader’s POV

A crescent moon lit up the night sky and the grass remained damp from the recent storm, crickets and frogs sang nearby. The wet, muddy terrain on the hill worked my calves as well as ruined my shoes. My escort finally dropped me off at the stones. Though I know it's odd dropping a strange woman off at a landmark in the middle of the night, he never asked any questions. The atmosphere was dark and cold, part of me felt scared to go back. There is always the chance that the stones could send me to the wrong time period, or even further back. I found love here, and even friends of my own. At least what I thought was love, even if the feelings were not mutual. How could someone so sweet and loving towards me flip within an instant. I questioned if I truly knew Eivor at all in the time I spent here.

Everything changed through the years, but the stones remained the same. Unchanged by any shape or form of mankind. People have come and have gone as they have sat and watched patiently. I wonder whether people have even noticed my absence and how I would explain where I was. It's difficult bearing the truth but having no one to tell it to otherwise I’d be deemed insane. I was back where my journey started, in the same spot engulfed by the tall rocks around me. The standing stone I had touched previously stood directly in front of me. However, I couldn’t bring myself to touch it as if a magnetic force was pulling me away. My name echoed in the distance from a voice I could recognize no matter how far.

Eivor stepped down from her horse with caution and let out a groan. Her knees appeared weak as she stumbled towards me and her voice dry and tired. I still felt anger towards her and wondered why she didn't just apologize earlier.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Why, Eivor?” 

“Im sorry, I’m drunk and I can't think right now. Please, forgive my harsh words… You deserve more than what I can offer you. So I…”

She paused and placed her hand on her stomach before dropping to her knees. I quickly moved her hand and lifted her undershirt to reveal she had been wounded. Though I’m not an expert, It was clear to see the wound was deadly. Eivor reached her hand outwards towards me for support. I screamed out her name whilst the anger in my body was now replaced with fear.

“Eivor, get up!”

She could hardly keep her eyes open and her body refused to stand up. For once, I had no time to think of what to do next. Running on pure adrenaline, I reached behind her and grabbed underneath her arms in an attempt to drag her but she was too heavy. My panicking only worsened from that point forward.

“Eivor, I need you to help me please… Just for a moment.”

Her eyes flickered with what little fight she had left in her body. I placed her arms around my neck, holding her wrist. This allowed her to place less of her body weight on me as I led her to the stone. She groaned in pain and could barely support herself. I quickly pulled her free hand onto the stone alone with mine.

This is the only way… 

Eivor’s POV

Consciousness started to return to me as a bright light shined in my eye, I could make out the voices of other  people around me. Everything was colorless, only white. For a moment, I truly thought I had died. I looked up to strange sounds coming from a machine that had cords hooked up to various parts of my body. Men and women wearing white coats surrounded me and they seemed to somehow know my name. I sat up to get a better view of my surroundings and my jaw dropped, unable to fix the frown on my face. I began to tug and pull out the lines connected to me and a woman advised me to stop.

“Where am I? Who are you people?”

“This is a hospital and we’re trying to help you. I need you to lay back down.”

The lights around me were so bright and everything so foreign, I felt genuine fear forming in my body. They mumbled towards one another, words I could not make any sense of. The woman in front of me started to fidget with a set of tools near my bed until I grabbed onto her wrist and she flinched. She squirmed and tried to pull my hand off before I finally released her.

“Tell me where y/n is… Please.”

“She's waiting for you outside… Doctor, she's moving too much she needs to be put back to sleep.”

What does she mean put back to sleep?

Before any further thoughts could form I felt a pinch in my arm and my eyes started to grow heavy. I could not fight my drowsiness so I succumbed to it.

Readers POV

I waited outside Eivor’s room anxiously. Thankfully, I had been placed in the exact same time period I had left. Nothing changed and I knew no questions would be plastered onto me by anyone I know. The door to Eivor’s room opened and a doctor greeted me, papers in his hands of x-rays and tests. He was a tall freckled man with thick brown hair and his glasses kept falling from the bridge of his nose. I stood up to shake his hand and waited for him to tell me any news of her.

“So, the wound has been disinfected and is ready for proper healing. We’ve done a few tests on her brain activity and everything is functioning normal. However, she has multiple scars all over her body. They look to be battle scars, oddly enough. I understand you tell me she’s a new friend of yours but do you know anything else about her life?”

“All I know is that her life has been a rough one… Now, when can she be released?”

“Soon. She’s very confused right now, unaware of her surroundings. Perhaps, once she's awake you can help jog her memory.”

“Could I at least see her now?”

“I’m assuming you’re not family therefore, I can't allow that. Leave your number and we’ll let you know when she’s ready to be brought home.”

I jotted down my number with the black-ink pen the doctor gave me. He told me she needs to be aware of her surroundings before any further stimulation. Even if the doctor seemed suspicious, they know only so little. I felt bad on the walk to my car, I didn’t wanna leave her all alone there but there was nothing I could do about It. I feared she would be angry with me once I picked her up. I started up my car and pulled out of the driveway, the rain trickled onto the front of my window and I turned on my windshield wipers. The drive back home was somewhat rejuvenating, being back relaxed me, I didn’t have to witness war and blood every second of the day.

I neared the driveway of my parking lot and pulled in. On the passenger seat my keys laid, I grabbed them and shut the car door. When I unlocked the front door to my apartment everything remained just as It was before, like nothing changed. My cat greeted me with a meow and I replied back with a scratch on her neck before making sure her food bowl was filled. I missed my life entirely, though I hadn’t been gone terribly long, a feeling of deja vu still resonated within me. The night would be long as I waited for my phone to go off. I turned the television on in my living room and kicked back, my cat laying next to me.

Just like old times...

Traveling through time seems to tire me, so I laid back and let my mind drift away. 

Eivor’s POV

I awoke from my practically forced sleep. I knew my journey to her would bring me here, to her strange world. Some more clothes would have brought me more comfort rather than this sheet they have me in. My wound was healing nicely, the pain of it wearing away though still sore. Some good ale would help me endure this. The nurses treated me well, making me regret how aggressive I had been in the beginning. My knowledge of the world around me made them suspicious but they knew I was fully responsive. We discussed my release, and they gave me news that I should get ready to go home. One of the nurses placed a bag on the chair next to my bed.

“Your friend left some clothes for you to change into when she left.”

A simple shirt and pants, strange material though. Surely, for such an advanced time I would have thought the clothing would be more complex instead, It was rather minimalist. The shirt fit rather snug but the pants were fine and felt comfortable. No one bared any weapons or armor, I felt nude without anything to defend myself with. Everyone seemed content and relaxed, I envied the people around me and the sheltered lives they had always lived. They walked around completely oblivious, and so did I. The concept was foreign but trying to fit in with the people around me was easy, just act like everything is okay. I heard a knock on the door once I finished dressing and the doctor came in to consult with me. He shook my hand and smiled.

“Hello, Eivor. Your wound is healing wonderfully. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I was.”

“The severity of your wound was extreme, even I’m surprised you made it… Your scars, how did you get them? If you don't mind me asking.”

I threw my hands up in the air trying to spare some time, my voice became soft.

“Oh, you know. Used to be a troublemaker, got into some bad fights.”

“I assume you're still troublemaking since that wound is fresh.”

“This one was an.... accident.”

Reader’s POV

The familiar sound of my phone started to ring. I knocked out so hard, I’m not even sure what time it is. I wiped the corners of my mouth before clearing my throat, the hospital was calling me. Anxiously, I answered the call and It was the doctor I had spoken to prior. Finally, I can pick her up from the hospital. I never got up quicker, throwing on some clean clothes and grabbing my keys on the way out the door. I whipped out of the driveway and headed towards Eivor, I think I may have even been speeding. Upon arrival I made my way to the desk to check into Eivor’s room. I took the elevator and pressed the floor number I needed to go to. Ugh, I hate the smell of hospitals. Disinfectants and chemicals everywhere, yet the taste of nothingness in the air at the same time. I found myself at her room door, and knocked to make sure she was ready for my entrance. The door handle twisted and opened swiftly, my heart began to beat faster when I saw the way she looked at me. I wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry It happened this way. We’ll get you back, I promise.”

“There’s no need for apologies, you saved my life. These people saved my life, there would be no going back home if it wasn’t for your quick thinking. I will admit for the first time there is true fear in my body for what lies out there.”

I chuckled, sure enough she had the look of fear in her eyes.

“Eivor, there’s nothing to be scared of. Come on, let me show you my home. Oh, I just picked the shirt and pants out real quick, sorry if the fit is wrong. We’re going shopping as soon as possible...”

Eivor looked overwhelmed, perhaps the bright lighting and a bustling hospital was a lot to handle for her. We stepped in the elevator and made our way down, the buttons and how we dropped seemed to fascinate her. When we got outside to the parking lot she was surprised to see all the cars moving fast, faster than any horse could go. When we got to my car I made a short, “ta-da!” movement with my hands.

“This is my humble stallion, she takes me wherever I like.”

Behold, my silver car. A few years dated but in almost pristine condition, I seemed quite proud of myself somehow. I opened the door for her and had to remind her to tilt her head down when entering.

“More of those…”

She pointed at the numbers in my car.

“They're called buttons, love.”

I turned the volume dial on my car and played some tunes. The surprised expression on her face when she heard what we consider music, we shared a look before smiling and laughing at each other. The moment was short when she ran her fingers over the functions, the radio station changing repeatedly and the heater kicking on and off… Like a child in a candy shop, touching everything in sight. Though I was trying to contain my laughter, her face remained serious and extremely focused. I got on the road to go back home, making sure to play some of my favorite songs for her entertainment.

[nakedmossy]

Depth Over Distance - Part One [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I haven’t found a hometown Rudy fic yet soooo I wrote one. I have no idea where this story is going to go and I’m honestly finding it hard to get out of writing JJ and get into writing Rudy, but here we go anyways. I wanted to write something where the reader and Rudy were hometown friends before he moved to LA, and to explore the idea of how that would change/what it would look like when he comes back. Get ready for a S L O W. B U R N. my dudes. Peace and love, Mossy x]

The sky was grey and the air was wet - it had been raining for 4 days straight. You sat in your car with the heat cranked, your window down slightly so that the humidity didn’t fog up your mirrors. Living on the Alaskan coast was beautiful most of the time but horrible some of the time, especially when you had to waste gas just keeping warm and dry at 6pm in the beginning of ‘Summer’. 

You had never lived anywhere else aside from the summer you spent in Vancouver with your cousin when you were 19. Now, at 23, you were working full time at the local bookshop that was an 8 minute drive from your house in the winter and a 20 minute walk/skate in the summer. Your car was parked street side, waiting for your friend Lizzy to finish her shift at the cafe. The smell of the rain and the Ben Howard song on the radio made you nostalgic about the times you and your friends from high school had spent hours skating down these streets, beers in your backpacks, no helmets, dirty shoes and clothes, no pressure, no responsibilities, no cell service...no worries. 

Since graduation a lot of your friends had moved out of town, either to Anchorage or down to Washington, or further south. Your best friend Lizzy had stayed close to home, helping run her families business and working part time at the cafe. You had stayed local too...your dad owned a fishing guide business and your mom was an admin assistant for the MD in town, but neither made enough to cover all the medical bills you had racked up over the last few years. You figured once the debt was paid off you might leave...but you had no idea where you would go. 

You missed all of your friends, but you missed the boys the most, aside from Lizzy you didn't have a lot of female friends, and your boys had been like brothers to you. You spoke to most of them every few weeks on FaceTime, except Rudy. He had gone to LA for awhile and had kept in touch loosely, but after the first few months he started to drift. 

You felt the loss the hardest for Rudy. He had been your closest friend the longest, you had spent nearly every day of every summer together since you were 9, and every school year you worked the same part time job at the seafood restaurant on the water. Now, the last you heard, he was coming back for the summer to ‘reconnect’. You had low expectations and tried not to let yourself get excited, but truthfully, you wanted him to spend some time at home and be around his own kind again - he had always been a homebody and you were worried that being gone for 4 years would go to his head or change him.

Lizzy tapped on the glass, causing you to blink out of your reverie and smile at her. You rolled the window down and let her reach in and open the door from the inside (the handle had been broken since high school). She threw her backpack and skateboard in the back seat, climbing in and closing her door.

“Ugh.” She grunted as her teeth chattered and she rubbed her bare legs. 

“You know its only May, you shouldn’t even be wearing shorts yet. The snow just melted.”

Lizzy glared at you playfully and put her hand out to do your handshake. You did it, then put the car in drive and started slowly down the street, windshield wipers moving rhythmically.

“How was the shift?” You asked as you checked your mirrors and wiped some humidity off the rear view. 

“Same old” Lizzy leaned back in her seat and pulled the visor mirror down to fix her hair. “That old man Collins from the cannery keeps coming in and harassing me.”

“Jack? The one with the eye patch?” 

Lizzy nodded dramatically as she held the bobby pins in her mouth and started to twist her straight black hair off her face. 

“That guy-“ She finished placing the final pin and slammed the visor closed “-Is an absolute creep.”

You snorted a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes.

“He’s like...70. And widowed. Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude. Im just...asserting my boundaries.”

“You literally have a 3 foot counter between you at minimum, at all times.” You looked over at her and raised your eyebrows.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is we need hotter men in this town. Like...soon.”

You nodded in agreement and felt your eyes wander all over the road, remembering the time you and Rudy had taken your longboards down it after a torrential downpour and you had crashed and gotten such bad road burn that he had to call his dad to come pick you both up because you couldn’t walk.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening?” Lizzy cut back in, staring at you.

“No, what?”

“I said, speaking of hot guys, I heard Rudy is coming back for a few months.”

You pinched your face and looked at her then at the road, then back at her.

“Rudy is not hot. Rudy is....Rudy. What are you talking about?”

Lizzy looked at you disbelieving and closed her mouth, trying not to smile.

“What!” You repeated, smacking her arm.

“Hey!” She laughed, then shook her head and looked out the window. “Whatever you say man, I just think....” She grabbed her water bottle and began to screw off the lid “I just think...he’s not gonna be the same Rudy that left 4 years ago. He’s like...a movie star now.”

You couldn’t even begin to touch that one. You knew what she was doing...she was always harping on you about going on dates or taking trips with her to the mainland to hook up with the pilots during their layovers. You never went, and always insisted that you were just fine and were not interested. She never listened. Part of that was true...you were fine, and usually not interested. But sometimes, when the water was calm and the sunset was colourful and the fish were jumping and your beer was cold...you wished you had someone to share it with.

“I’m going up to Skagway this weekend with my dad” You said, changing subjects. “He’s short a guide and needs someone to drive the boat.”

“Lucky you” She said sarcastically, screwing the lid back on her bottle. “Another weekend spent with men twice your age who have zero ability to catch a fish and even less ability to smell nice.” 

“It’s good money.” You said flatly, annoyed that everything seemed to revolve around men with her. “And in case you forgot I’m kinda in need of that at the moment.”

Lizzy licked her lips and put her hands up, dipping her head. 

“Alright...noted. Chill out Kemosabe.” She giggled under her breath and looked out her window, drawing a small penis in the moisture on the window.

“Babe, seriously. You need to get laid.” You said, shaking your head.

“I know” She replied, working on the veins. “Trust me. Im in a state of national emergency by this time of year.”

Lizzy was absolutely one of the girliest girls (and most beautiful girls) in the south of Alaska, which was ironic considering the house she grew up in. Her dad was an overweight German restaurant entrepreneur who had opened a world class seafood restaurant in Juneau back in the 90s and had shacked up with her mother who was this drop dead gorgeous Haida warrior woman who you had literally seen kill and skin a bear with her own hands. 

They had forged this chain of restaurants local to Alaska that people flew hundreds of miles to eat at, but still lived in an off-grid cabin that hadn’t been insulated since 1960 and used wood heating. Not really the type of family that screamed southern belle femininity - yet somehow Lizzy came out of that union with a pink bed set, refusing to ever wear camo or sweatpants, and still had never shot a gun - which her mother reminded her of weekly. 

Lizzy had hit puberty at 10 and had used her breast advantage over every girl in your class for the next 3 years like some sort of distinction of better genetics, as if she needed boobs to prove that. Unlike you, she was naturally thin and tall (6ft to be precise), had long, thick straight black hair and olive skin, and perfect hips. You felt like a prepubescent boy standing next to her, with your uneven complexion and your frizz and your awkward thigh fat distribution. You were envious of her genetics - her mother graced her with the body of an athlete and the thick black hair, and her father had given her height and cheekbones that could slice through glass. You looked down at your arms, covered in freckles, pasty white from lack of sun, and cringed, looking back at the road.

You turned the corner leaving the main road and starting on the dirt road that led to your favourite part of beach access. Lizzy pulled her hoodie out of her backpack and took off her seatbelt, leaning forward to pull it down over her head. You leaned forward and looked up, this was your favourite part of the drive. The dirt road which was lined with moss and ferns and other foliage wound along the base of the snow capped mountain that was at least 1000ft in elevation. The mist and fog from the coast was thick and creeped through the tall cedar trees, black ravens and falcons flying overhead stark against the white mist. This was the most idyllic picture of northwest coastal living you could find.

When you parked at the trail head Lizzy slipped off her work flats and into her Teva’s, you grabbed your yellow Vans out of your trunk and slipped them on. You usually drove bare foot, a habit you had started in high school after Rudy had thrown your shoes off the dock at the restaurant and you had to drive home without any. You grabbed your sweater and your backpack which had the beer in it. As you were both gathering the rest of your things...beach blanket, hats, and rain cover, you heard a car pull up behind you. You stood up out of the trunk and squinted to see the car through the fog. It was a black ford pickup you had never seen before. 

“Who’s that?” Lizzy chimed in from behind you.

“No clue” You said as you lifted your hand to wave once. 

The truck had tinted windows and looked brand new. When it pulled up beside you, the drivers side window began to unroll, revealing Junior - your high school (ex) sweetheart.

“Holy” You said, eyebrows up, nodding. “Nice truck - where’d you steal it from?” He rolled his eyes at you dramatically.

“Whatever kid - its a rental. Got it to drive to the airport in.” His chest puffed out and his expression read so proud. 

“Airport?” You said inquisitively. “Since when does Alan pay you to drive new trucks to the airport?” 

“Since Rudy hired him for the pick up service and apparently is incapable of driving his own ass around anymore” Junior snorted and waved at Lizzy.

“Or he doesn’t have a car here anymore” You noted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Either way, I get this bad boy for the next 24 hours and I intend to give her the royal grand tour of our humble town.” He ran his hand up and down the steering wheel, stroking the new leather. “Wanna go for a rip?” He said, winking. You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Well I do” Lizzy piped up from beside you, walking closer to the window. She smiled at Junior and began to put her hair in a pony tail. She nudged your arm as she began to walk to the passenger side door. “Come on, granny. Let’s go!”

She laughed as she climbed up into the truck, but you shook your head again.

“I’m good...you kids have fun. Say hi to Rudy for me” You said to Junior, who shrugged his head and muttered ‘definitely wont do that’ under his breath.

Lizzy blew a kiss at you and waved once before Junior put it in drive and started to go up the dirt road north of you. 

Junior and you had ended on okay terms, but he had concocted a theory that you had broken up with him because of another guy, and the unspoken suggestion was that that guy had been Rudy. Small town guys had a heck of a time with the idea of girls and guys just being friends. 

You sighed and watched as the truck disappeared around the corner, and turned back to your own car. You grabbed your backpack and slammed the trunk closed, walking down the path alone. You weren’t mad at Lizzy for going with him - she was flighty and bailed on you at the bar all the time - but you were mad the beer was going to go warm before you could drink it all. Not that you should even be drinking 6 beers alone by the water when you had to drive yourself home. Doubtful the 2 cops in this town would even be awake to see you though. Whatever.

You reached the end of the path and rounded the corner, revealing the coast line and the rocky beach. It was your favourite place to sit and think, sit and smoke, sit and be yourself. The beach curled in a U shape, giving you a private spot where the rest of the shoreline was blocked from view and all you could see was the ominous cedar forest that stretched up the mountain, the snow caps at the top, and the horizon over the cold pacific.

You had intended to share the joint you had in your pocket with Lizzie, but...well, her loss. You spread the blanket out on the softest patch of sand and rocks you could find (which still meant you were guaranteed to get at least 2 rocks in the ass) and placed your bag down, kicking off your sneakers. You took a deep breath for the first time in a few days and lit the joint, taking one long, deep inhale. You felt it tingle through your chest and your arms and legs almost immediately, relaxing you. Being here alone always sent you into a spiral of memories and thoughts that you worked hard during the day to suppress. Most insistent lately had been thoughts about your health problems. You called them ‘health problems’ but in reality it was just an eating disorder. You could go 2, sometimes 3 days without eating anything, and never felt hungry. It started after graduation.

You had lost weight, dramatically, going from a stable 120-125 to 95 at most and 90 at worst, in the span of a month. And for the next three years you had never gained it back, you had stayed at a relatively stable 95, which still left you looking sickly and too thin at 5’3”. Your frame wasn’t built for that kind of weight drop, you were Scottish and Cree, sprinkled with a little bit of German and Irish. A classic northwest cracker mix. You weren’t naturally small, you always had a bit of something to grab onto, but it was normal to your body, healthy. 

Some part of your brain knew that it had something to do with leaving school...and the pretence that came with that. The expectation...the responsibility. You were never that kind of person, and it never really bothered you, but suddenly it had. You never planned to go to University right away, but you had no back up plan. It wasn't something you and your friends really talked about. But suddenly Jacob had gotten into U of Washington, Dan had left to backpack Europe, and Rudy had not so graciously announced he was deferring his acceptance and scholarship to culinary school because he wanted to be an actor, and flew to LA the next month. You had been left behind, with Lizzy of all people, and it had hit you hard.

You looked around the beach, dragging on your joint quicker than normal, trying to knock the thoughts out of your head. An Eagle screeched above - scaring you - and you laid back on the blanket, closing your eyes. You needed to chill the hell out. This was the first time in a few weeks that you had gotten a night off from helping your dad with his guide business and you didn’t plan on wasting it riddling your brain with anxiety and worrying about your body.

You looked up at the sky and watched the mist and fog kiss the clouds, the sunset colours dancing across them. As it usually did, the rain had stopped just as the sun was going down, the clouds parting briefly and letting the smallest sliver of sunlight through, just enough to burn the grey light out of the sky and allow the pink and orange hues to fade along the horizon. You sat up and cracked a beer, enjoying the fresh smelling air and the rhythmic sound of the waves licking the shore line. 

Two beers in you had put on your jacket and placed your Bluetooth speaker next to you on the blanket, blasting a playlist that Rudy had made you for your graduation party.

Three beers in you took the jacket off, standing up and dancing by yourself on the beach to the music.

Four beers in you laid down on the blanket, balled your jacket up and used it as a pillow, and started looking for shapes in the stars.

Five beers in you fell sleep.

———

Many hours later, as the sun rose and was bright on the water and the early morning bird feed was in full swing overhead, you were drifting in and out of sleep to the squawking when a shadow came across your face, alerting you to groggily open your eyes.

“What’s up, Little Fern?” His voice had gotten deeper. Wait, what?

You opened your eyes and blinked, raising a hand to block the sun. There, in your very awake and very not dreaming state, was the unmistakable silhouette that you had spent the last 18 years dreaming about and 18 years being a friend to.

Rudy.

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Previous chapters // read on A03

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 6

Navy Yard Washington, D.C. 10:13 p.m.

The Navy Yard sits on an unappealing southeast corner of the city pressed up against a polluted strip of the Potomac. It was used for ship maintenance and ammunition manufacturing during the war and continued for a little while after. The surrounding warehouses and docks became defunct once the war effort projects dried up. The shipyard devolved into a revolving door for small-time criminals which begat large-time mobsters. Security was usually an older night watchman who was past his prime and easy to track. Smaller boats would pull up and drop off cargo whenever they could. Deals were quick and dirty. Soon, respectable businesses in the southeast east district wanted a piece and formed a “two ships passing” style agreement. I suppose it saved them from having their goods sent to Anacostia or down towards Virginia. 

A flash of lightning brightened up a cluster of clouds. A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Fortunately, I had arrived and got into position just prior to the downpour. I sat on a dirt driveway off the access road, which was quickly becoming a muddy river. There was a canal to my left at the nine o’clock position, the Potomac dead ahead at my twelve, and the edge of a warehouse was at my three o’clock. The rain sounded like I had parked my Pontiac under Niagara Falls. Water pounded against the roof, rushed down the windshield in sheets of grey making the wiper blades useless. The water-logged Buddy Rich solo played on against the car and I had a feeling my view was not going to clear up anytime soon.

I fidgeted with a sunflower seed I pulled from the half-empty bag on my dashboard. Ideally I would toss the shells out the window but given the weather and trying to keep a low profile, there was an unsalted graveyard on the floor of the sedan. I cracked the shell with my teeth and added it to the discarded brethren. The seed danced around my tongue and I turned my wrist trying to make out the time on my watch. The minute hand eased a tick past the quarter hour. I then picked up the radio and connected with the precinct dispatch.

“This is Detective Mulder, over.”

Static. Click. Click.

I pressed the button again on the comm as I leaned over and grabbed my hat.

“This is Detective Mulder, do you copy? Over.” 

“Evening detective, this is Officer Stanz. Always nice hearing your voice in the dead of the night.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

“So Mulder, what’s your status?” 

“Waiting for this storm to strip the paint off my car,” I replied as I ran a hand over my face. “Visibility is shit sitting here in the driver’s seat. Regrettably, I think I’ll have to go on foot. Over.”

“Copy that,” she said, “Hopefully you won’t need to build an ark.”

“Honey, I’d rather swim for it. Over and out.” 

I placed my hat on my head, pocketed the small binoculars that were resting on the seat next to me, and opened the car door into the deluge. The rain sounded different as it slapped against the water in the canal, rang against the scrap metal, and beat against the dock. I dashed towards a scrap pile and crouched down amongst rusted metal and what I hoped were empty oil drums. If there was a gunfight I didn’t want to go up like a Roman candle. I peered over an oil drum and got eyes on the warehouse through the binoculars.

The info Krycek had provided Skinner said three was the magic number; Vincenti favored odds over evens. Guess I know how he’d play the roulette wheel at the casino. I saw a worn metal sign tacked to the side of the building letting me know I was in the right place. There was a dim light piercing through a shadow on the dock so somebody was home. Suddenly, headlights came down the other end of the access road and I got out of sight. The car went dark and I counted to ten then shifted my position. Rain poured off the brim of my hat, dripped down my neck so I flipped up the collar; glad I chose the dark grey trench coat. The new vehicle slowly crept closer to the front of the warehouse and idled. Once the hood touched the dim light source I knew it looked familiar; the distinct yellow paint job of a D.C. cab. I squinted and tried to memorize the plate number through spikes of rain. The passenger door opened flashing the checkered pattern on the side panel. A figure stepped out and rounded the front of the car then paused at the driver’s side before heading into the warehouse. Just then, a headlight shone on the river. I listened to the putter of the engine as it pulled up to the edge of the dock. Once the engine was cut I watched through the binoculars and saw one of the goons wave as the boat approached the dock. It was the same goon who was with Lodi at the restaurant. He approached the boat as they cut off the light. My grip switched and my eyes strained.

The D.C.cab was still idling along with the boat at the dock. I kept to the shadows. I could feel moisture collect at my mid back from an adrenaline surge. That all too familiar feeling. Suddenly as a thunder clap sounded, I had a flashback to a sunrise mission on Wake Island: Rain made my hands very slick on the Carbine as I tried to ready my aim. Bullets whizzed around me. The mud was so thick. An explosion went off nearby, my ear was ringing. My sergeant was yelling commands. I held my breath for three counts and pulled the trigger, a bright spray of red marked where I hit a Japanese soldier square in the throat. First time I successfully made that shot. Confirmed kill.

  I closed my eyes and dug my nails into the palm of my hand, one pain replaced another and the memory faded. My breath was short but steady. I needed to focus. If the goon was there, Lodi was surely lurking somewhere inside. I just needed to get eyes on him. The backside of the building seemed like a safer option and I pressed against the rotting wood as I moved around to a shabby staircase. A quick glance up and I climbed towards the single door. The steps were slippery and I was waiting for my foot to punch through a soft spot in the warped planks. At the landing I readied my gun and turned the knob, slowly opening the unlocked door. The upper level looked clear. It was a nice respite from the storm. I held my position and holstered my weapon. My trenchcoat felt like it took on about twenty pounds of rainwater and I would have enjoyed shaking off like a wet shaggy dog. Drips from the edge of my coat marked my hiding spot like an X on a treasure map. Luckily I didn’t need my binoculars from my perch because, as if on cue, Carlo Lodi’s hulking frame lumbered across the floor. 

He blew a puff of smoke from a dying cigarette. His goon handed over a white package which Lodi bounced in his hand with approval. He gave a wave and a couple of men filed out of the warehouse and approached the boat. I could just barely make out the edge of it bobbing at the side of the dock. The lackeys quickly transferred packages from the boat to the trunk of the idling taxi. I adjusted my stance and craned my neck. The cab had a picture of the Capitol dome and what looked like the word ‘Speedy.’ They were using the taxi company to move the heroin. I heard the boat engine rev and pull away from the dock. One of the men approached the driver’s side door of the cab and pulled the driver out. He pushed the confused cabbie away from his vehicle. Then the man swiftly plunged a knife in the cabbie’s side, repeating the motion until the poor driver went limp. He was then dropped in the Potomac like yesterday’s garbage. The goon took his place behind the wheel and I knew I needed to get back outside to tail him.

I saw the headlights from the commandeered taxi so I was careful not to be spotted. I couldn’t tell which direction he was going to pull off so I waited behind a different wood and scrap pile. The chug of the engine caught my attention. The lights appeared to be moving backwards and when they were far enough, I made a break for my car. Inside via the passenger door I fished out my key and started the engine then grabbed the radio comm.

“This is Mulder, does anyone read?”

I backed up on the access road and spun the wheel in the right direction. That sweet voice came through my radio once again.

“This is Stanz. Over.”

“I got eyes on Lodi. Shipment confirmed at Dock 3 at the Navy Yard, get anyone from the Southeast Division who isn’t asleep down here now. Beat cops, vice, narco, I’ll take whatever I can get. Take caution, he isn’t alone.”

I pressed the gas a little harder keeping textbook distance as I locked onto the cab. I clicked the comm again. 

“I’m in pursuit of an accomplice heading west on Waterfront Dr. It’s a taxi, plate number: TK-0421. Speedy Capitol Cab Company. Over” 

“Roger that. I’ll relay to Captain Skinner. Over and out.”

I tapped the break as I pulled around a corner and turned up Patterson Ave. then on to M Street. The cab slowed to stop at a red light a block ahead of me. Mighty nice of him to use a turn signal. He switched lanes and merged onto New Jersey Ave. angling towards Capitol Hill. The street cut a sharp diagonal and the famed white dome came into view. I heard my radio crackle but ignored it. My eyes felt like I had rubbed them with sandpaper, I hated to blink for fear of losing my target. I was dangerously tired, a second wind was long overdue. 

Street lights and neon bounced against puddles in the street. The rain had slacked off to the point where it was an annoying stubborn mist that couldn’t make up its mind if it wanted to stop or go full tilt. I had cracked my window and listened to the rush of tires on slick pavement, splashing in potholes and against manhole covers. 

The cab turned right onto Independence Ave. I tailed a little closer than protocol distance, keeping only one car between us. I missed the signal change and watched my target turn left on First St. Impatiently I waited for the signal, hoping I hadn’t lost them. After I made the turn I slowed down and searched for the taxi. I spotted it parked in front of the Library of Congress, parked like he was picking up a fare. There was a man standing on the curb holding an umbrella. I performed a u-turn maneuver and pulled into an empty parallel space, threw the gear shift into park and advanced on the suspect.

“DCPD!” I yelled as I approached the driver’s side door with my badge and gun drawn. The driver calmly rolled down the window and lifted a meaty hand from the wheel. A thick signet ring on his pinky finger looked like butcher’s twine around a sausage link. 

“No, keep ‘em on the wheel! Don’t move.”

He smirked and obliged. I held my gun on him and glanced in the backseat; a red ember glowed from the tip of a freshly lit cigarette.  

“Is there something we can do for you, detective?”

That voice. That distinctive snake hiss I couldn’t forget; it slowly coiled around like a wisp of smoke. The smoking man. Spender’s father. 

“Fancy meeting you here. Looks like you chose the wrong taxi tonight.”

“On the contrary detective, it’s you who chose poorly.”

“Yeah I have a knack for doing that,” I retorted, fingers gripping the handle of my gun, “Alright, you — out of the car. Hands where I can see them.” I pulled the door open and took a step back, letting the goon out. I made him turn to face the car, hands atop the roof. The smoking man leaned forward from the backseat, cigarette tucked between his lips.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Hey! You are next on my list.” I shouted then continued frisking the goon, finding a small handgun and a switchblade. I stuffed them into my trench coat pocket.

“Careful, you’re gonna make me stiff,” he said with a laugh as I patted his legs down to the ankle, finding another blade in a clever holster. I pulled out my handcuffs and clasped his wrists behind his back. I pushed my gun in between his shoulder blades, directing him toward the rear of the taxi and told him to open the trunk. I felt the heat from the exhaust pipe blowing against my pant leg, creating a small dry patch on an otherwise drenched pair of trousers. The goon shook his head and flipped the latch. The trunk appeared empty.

“Alright where is it?” I asked,

“Where’s what?”

“The package. The white package.”

“Ain’t no package here.”

I leaned in and felt around, searching for a latch or tab or something that would indicate a hidden compartment. As my free hand finally found what it was looking for, my occupied hand dug the tip of the standard issue deeper into a lesser known pressure point in the goon’s back. The pulled a section of fabric loose, revealing a hidden compartment that was packed full of white packages. 

Sirens wailed in the distance. I tossed the goon in the back of my car, adjusting his handcuffs so there was no funny business, then radioed in my location. The smoking man approached under the cover of his umbrella.

“I could have your badge for this, detective.”

“You can try.”

“This small incident won’t change anything.”

“Just keep telling yourself that. I have officers from every direction to bust up the little party at the Navy Yard. This is the tip of the iceberg and I’m willing to go all the way to the core.”

We stood silent, listening to the approaching sirens. The rain had finally stopped but the percussive sound of drips could still be heard in the surrounding trees. A plume of smoke wafted in the air. He was about to say something to me but a squad car had arrived coming to a stop in the middle of the street. Two unis got out with guns drawn. 

“I’m taking my suspect back to the 3rd,” I called out, “You boys can take this one for a ride.”

[kerikaaria]

If I Never Met You: Chapter 2

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff 

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

After we all introduced ourselves, Sejin oppa told the boys that they could take the rest of the day off their usual practice and training schedules so that we could get to know each other a little better.

“(Y/n) noona, why’d you decide to come to Korea in the first place?” Jimin asked, propping up his chin with the palm of his hand.

“Basically, I wanted to travel,” I replied. “I wanted to experience somewhere new and I had already learned the language so I knew I wouldn’t be completely lost. That, and the fact that Konkuk University accepted me as a student helped of course.”

If I hadn’t gone to Konkuk University, I probably wouldn’t have ended up in this room with these seven boys in the first place. That’s where I met Seokjin. No one else really talked to me, I guess my being a foreigner made them scared they wouldn’t be able to communicate well. But after seeing each other in a few of the fundamental courses we took together he asked me if he could sit next to me in class, so we started talking and quickly became friends.

He had told me he was a trainee, so I helped him when he had trouble getting work done because of his busy schedule. And earlier today, which was only about a month after the semester started, I mentioned how I was having trouble finding a job and he suggested I applied to the company he was a trainee at. I was baffled when I was told to come back for an interview so quickly after just filling out my application, so when I was hired so easily it was even more astonishing to me. And now here I was, talking with these seven interesting boys.

“How did you learn Korean anyway? Why did you want to?” Namjoon inquired. He had mentioned earlier that he learned English by watching the show Friends, which I thought was incredibly impressive.

“I found a website that taught it and made it really easy to learn. After getting into Korean dramas and K-pop I thought the language was really beautiful and wanted to give it a shot.”

“It must have taken you a while,” Hoseok added.

I saw Seokjin smiling out of the corner of my eye, waiting for his brothers’ reactions to my reply. “It took about 3 years.”

There were a variety of reactions from the boys, from as small as a just surprised expression, to straight up shocked gasps accompanied by jumping up from their comfortable positions on the floor. Meanwhile, my friend laughed out of enjoyment from their surprise.

“Really?! How fluent are you?” Jungkook asked.

“Well on TOPIK my proficiency was rated Level 6,” I replied, feeling shy from all their reactions.

“What’s that mean?” Yoongi asked.

“It means she got the highest level you can get. She’s completely fluent,” Namjoon elaborated.

I didn’t think it was possible, but even more dynamic reactions ensued from the group. Jimin and Hoseok were now standing, the latter spinning in circles. Even Yoongi, who appeared to be calmer and more muted than the rest of them was very obviously surprised at the knowledge. Seokjin was just on the floor, releasing his unique laugh which reminded me of windshield wipers.

I felt my cheeks flush at their over-the-top reactions. I knew that I learned it fairly quickly, but I definitely wasn’t prepared for these responses.

“I mean, Namjoon learned English just from watching a TV show and there’s no way I could have done that with Korean, so…” I said, hoping to reduce some of the attention they were giving me.

“Yah, calm down guys,” Seokjin managed to say once his laughing settled down a bit. “You’re making her feel embarrassed.”

“Sorry, noona!” Taehyung said as he and the rest of the boys started to calm down. “ It’ just, I’ve been learning English basically since I started going to school but I still can’t even hold a full conversation in it. So it was just super impressive to hear you learned Korean so quickly!” The rest of the group nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” I said with a shy chuckle as I rubbed the back of my head with my hand. “Anyway, let’s talk more about you guys!” I smiled and they thankfully obliged.

Our afternoon continued like that, me asking some questions which resulted in quite a bit of conversation and bantering between them, then one of them asking me something else. I quickly began to feel relaxed with them. Something about them was very comforting and welcoming.

I learned of their ages. Of course, I already knew that Seokjin and I were the same age, being born in ’92, and I was even only 3 days younger than him as my birthday is December 7. We learned that on the first day we started to become friends and we were shocked at the strange coincidence, Seokjin saying that we were almost twins. Yoongi was the next oldest, a ’93 liner. Namjoon and Hoseok were born in ’94, Jimin and Taehyung in ’95, and Jungkook being the youngest born in ’97. I knew he looked young, but I had no idea he was only just barely 15!

After chatting for quite a while, Sejin oppa came into the room. He smiled, seeming satisfied that we appeared to be getting along.

“You’d probably better move this to the dorm,” he said as he walked up to where we were sitting in a kind-of-not-really circle on the floor.

A few of them immediately stood up at the suggestion, agreeing that it was a good idea,

“Guys,” Yoongi spoke up, “do we really want noona to come to our dorm? It was in a pretty poor state when we left this morning. I don’t think she’d want to see your guys’ dirty clothes and messy habits on display for her the day she meets us.”

Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin who were originally really excited immediately replaced their grins with frowns in realization of the poor state of their home.

Sejin oppa laughed from where he stood behind me. “What did you guys think I was up to this whole time? I cleaned it up for you. Don’t worry, it’s safe.”

A look of relief washed their faces again. “Alright, do you want to go then, (Y/n)?” Seokjin asked.

“Yeah, sure! I’m pretty sure that as your manager, I’m supposed to know where your house is anyway.”

The boys gathered their things and we walked to their dorm, which was close by for convenience.

When we entered the house, the first thing I noticed was that it seemed pretty small. But Sejin oppa wasn’t joking that he worked hard to clean it. It was spotless!

“Wow, thanks Sejin hyung! I’ve never seen this place so clean,” Namjoon said.

“Let’s try to keep it that way, huh?” Hoseok said to his roommates with his eyes narrowed.

Jungkook just giggled, and the others didn’t make much of a comment as they scattered around the room.

“Let me show you around a bit, (Y/n) noona,” Hoseok said, placing a hand on my back.

I smiled at him and nodded.

The house was very small so there wasn’t much to show me, but I still very much appreciated the welcoming gesture. After checking that the room was clean enough, he showed me their bedroom. Yes, a single bedroom. All 7 of them slept in one room together, using bunkbeds to take the most advantage of the space. I suddenly felt pretty bad for them.

“Is it hard for all of you to have such little room to share together?” I asked him.

“Not really,” he responded. “Some of our members do strange things in their sleep but we are used to each other.”

“Oh, you mean like how you touch your body while you sleep, hyung?” Taehyung piped in from behind us.

I quickly turned around and shot my head back and forth between the two boys. “Wait, what?”

“Yah, don’t make it sound weird, Kim Taehyung!” Hoseok said, his face turning red. After looking at my confused expression, he elaborated. “I don’t know, apparently while I’m sleeping I’ll run my hand across my arm or chest or something. I guess because my parents used to hold me while I was sleeping so it’s just something that my body does on its own. At least I don’t snore as loud as an engine like Namjoonie.”

“It’s not like I can help it!” I heard said member pipe up from behind us. From that point the rest of the boys all started chiming in and talking over each other so I couldn’t make out much more of what they were saying.

I just couldn’t help but think about how cute and sweet it was, that they looked so close and like a family of their own. I found myself wondering if I’d be considered a part of this family too from now on. I would really like that.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[unstoppableforcce]

a new dawn

—CHAPTER 6: collapse

pairing: Poe Dameron x reader (modern au!)

previous part | next part | masterlist

a/n: i just want to say that this was hard to get through to write but everything is up from here. I’ve tagged some warnings, just know that it’s darker than my normal writing and sorry for the wait

He couldn’t sleep again. The rain was back.

He wasn’t sure if that was the exact reason why, the heavy guilt sitting on his conscious giving the rain a run for its money, but he was also sure that whatever it was didn’t matter much. He couldn’t sleep.

Pulling away from your naked body strewn over him was one of the hardest things he ever had to do, but you had to work in the morning, the last thing he wanted was to keep you up.

So now he was back awake at 4 a.m., back in his kitchen, and he was beating himself up again and again… It was an all too familiar position.

But there was no phone in hand, there was no calling you for reprieve from the onslaught of memories beginning to scream in the back of his mind when you were in his bed. You were meant to be the solution to all of this and yet here he was, in the same place he was before he got you back.

No better. Possibly worse.

The rain was echoing against the fire escape right outside the kitchen window and the screams and shouts were echoing in his head. He could see the windshield wipers fighting through the torrential downpour, he swore he could even smell the smoke from the cigarette in the back seat—

“Poe?”

His head snapped up from where he held it in his hands to find you, still half-asleep, lingering in the doorway from the bedroom to the kitchen.

That was right. He was here, in his kitchen, and you were here.

He wasn’t over there. There was no Humvee.

He was here. He was here with you.

It didn’t matter how many times he repeated it in his head, it wasn’t working. His breathing was picking up to a near rapid pace before he even realized it—

“Poe?” your tone was much more cautious this time as you began crossing the kitchen floor.

You were wearing one of his shirts, the one you had pulled off of him just a few hours ago as he attacked your throat with kisses… It was an effortlessly good look on you. You used to say you liked them because they smelled like him. He liked when he found one you had recently worn and it smelled like you.

He liked you. He liked you a lot. The smell of you, the look of you, all of you.

He liked you and he loved you. Those were two different things and he did them both.

He liked the way your coffee made the apartment smell every morning, he liked that the smell of it alone made him want to get out of bed. He liked how smart you were, you read medical journals and spent all day doing things at work that he could barely quantify yet you never made anyone you were in conversation feel dumb in comparison. Though he often did, but that was more his fault than yours. He liked that you rewatched the same shows over and over, even If you knew it all by heart, because you didn’t have the time to get invested in a new show.

He liked you for all the little things. He liked that it made him always want to be around you. He liked that he never got tired of you.

But the love he felt for you was different. You were the only one he ever wanted to tell about his good news, you were the first person he wanted to see every morning, you were his person. Through everything he had gone through, you had been by his side the whole time, except for… well that was all his fault anyways. Besides, you were never really gone, and you were back now, that was what mattered.

You were back now.

You were in his kitchen—he was in his kitchen. The shouting he could hear wasn’t real. The memories ripping through his head were only memories.

He wasn’t in the Humvee; he was here with you.

What had he been saying again?

“Poe?” You were in front of him now, brows furrowed inwards as you were still cautious with every step.

That was right. He loved you. He was in love with you. You were his person and he loved you.

So why was he going to ruin it all again? Why was he lying to you?

Why couldn’t he just get better?

Why was it all so loud in his head? Why was the rain against the windshield all he could see?

You took a final few slow steps towards him and grabbed his hands before he could bring them to rub over and hide his face. “Poe, what’s going on?”

You had said it specifically that morning in the shower, you said that you weren’t sure you could do it all over again if he wasn’t going to put in the work. It was the only thing you asked for. You didn’t even want birthday presents, you didn’t want whipped cream on any dessert… He was losing his train of thought again.

That had been happening more and more recently. His focus wasn’t what it used to be and maybe that was all his fault too. Maybe the meetings would make it better, maybe not, he wouldn’t know until he made it into one of them would he?

The soft tips of your fingers managed their way into his hair again.

When the two of you were first dating, his hair had been much shorter, buzzed from his most recent tour. He wondered how he caught you for the long-run so early on when clearly it was the curls you were obsessed with—

“Poe, you have to talk to me…”

The shouting was getting clearer, sounding like it was behind him and not in his mind. It took every ounce of will and rational mind he had left not to look over his shoulder back to the living room to search for the source. He knew it was in his head. It was in his head. It was a memory…

He opened his mouth, he wanted to talk to you, so where were the words?

Did he deserve to say anything to you? He sure as hell didn’t deserve you, he knew that for sure.

Your grip on his head grew slightly tighter, almost like you were trying to ground yourself to him. It wasn’t working.

The rain was getting louder. Every drop sending a spurt of tension through his chest until it was getting harder to breathe.

He needed to tell you and he couldn’t talk.

“I love you.”

He knew that. Of course he knew that. That was the problem. You loved him, you’d do anything for him, and he was lying to you.

Trading grips, he was holding your hand now instead of you holding his, and he was holding it much tighter than you were holding his.

“I love you.” He repeated back to you, the only words he could manage.

“Poe, I don’t know what’s happening, but you have to talk to me—”

He shook his head, finding a second of silent reprieve as he shifted his stare from your feet to your lips. “Nothing is happening.”

Another lie. What the hell was he thinking? He was just digging the hole deeper and eventually he wasn’t going to be able to get out.

But this time he could tell it wasn’t passing over your head.

“I… I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep.” He sighed, gripping your hand now like his life depended on it. “Don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t move, you didn’t waver in the slightest. “I’m going to set up an appointment with someone I work with—”

“No, you don’t have to—” He shook his head, trying to stand up straighter, to feign some confidence but you gave an exhausted sigh in response.

“Poe, I know you’re not going to the meetings.”

He snapped his eyes back to yours, he hadn’t even realized that he had been avoiding your stare until he couldn’t look anywhere else. You didn’t even look disappointed, frankly, you looked like you knew all along.

It wasn’t sickness anymore. It was emptiness, cold and dark, like a hole in his chest. Ironically, he knew the sensation all too well.

“I have been—” What was he doing? Doubling down?

Now it was a sigh of disappointment that escaped your lips. “I ran into Oddy the other day, in the E.R…”

He scoffed, using the hand he wasn’t using to hold yours to wipe the beginning of tears from his eyes. Of course Oddy would need to go to the E.R., all the guys you used to work with went to see you there when the VA doctors were falling behind. Of course he knew that. Of course…

He tried again to make his voice work but he couldn’t, all he could do was stare.

“I wasn’t checking up on you, but we got to talking and he said he hadn’t seen you since your last tour—"

He pulled his hand away from yours, he didn’t know why, but he could feel his skin stinging. And it wasn’t because he was mad at you. How could he be? He was mad at himself; he always was but this was just worse. It was so much worse.

“Poe—”

“I didn’t—I don’t know, I just—I didn’t want to—” Was he really crying now? Get a hold of yourself—

He fought in a war… He flew fighter jets… He couldn’t even make out a sentence, tears coating his face…

“Poe—” You sounded sad, was that his fault?

Of course it was his fault. This was all his fault.

“Please don’t leave me again…” He choked out, bringing both hands back to his face.

“Oh, baby no.” You reached out for him again, but he pulled away, leaning back into the counter, practically flinching back from your touch now. “Poe no—”

“I couldn’t get out of the car.” He mustered, still forcing distance between the two of you. He needed to catch his breath, he couldn’t. “I couldn’t—"

“Can I?” You extended your hands towards him again, waiting for an acknowledgement but he couldn’t manage one, so you held back. But after a few seconds of heaving breaths, he finally reached back for your touch.

He actually collapsed into it.

Both of his arms fell over your shoulders and before he even realized it, his knees felt weak and you were holding him up while he sobbed into your hair.

“I didn’t mean to lie—”

Even your chuckle was somber. “Poe I don’t care about that—”

“I lied to you—”

“I don’t care about that, baby.” You sighed, rubbing at his back as he held tight to you. “It’s okay—”

All he could see was the rain—

No. He had to break out of it, he couldn’t break down right now, he couldn’t do it…

It was a torrential downpour, had been for the past few days and showed no signs of letting up.

No. He gripped tighter to you, but it didn’t make a difference now, it was a slope slicked with torrential rain of his memories and the tears streaming from his eyes… No. He had to break free of it, he had been down this path before and it was something that took months to come back from after…

It was hitting him like a crashing wave smothering him into the sand. Every time he thought he could get back up and out of it, it crashed over him again, pummeling him into the sand.

He was drowning in it.

“We’ll be coming up on the camp soon, Dameron, how’s it going back there?” Snap’s voice echoed over the radio from the front Humvee.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much rain—” He went to respond but the man in the passenger seat quickly interrupted, grabbing the radio back.

“I have, in your mother’s panties—”

He looked away for one second to join his squad in laughter. Then the whole ground shook and rumbled, the Humvee flipping over on itself.

He didn’t know then that the front car had driven over an IED, setting off a whole barrier of explosives in the road. He didn’t know then that when he looked away that he would never look up to see the front Humvee again.

All he knew was that everything hurt, his whole squad was shouting in one ear and the other ear was ringing. All he knew was that he was strapped into a Humvee that was tipped on his side and that the man in the passenger seat wasn’t moving.

All he knew was that they were in compromised territory and he could hear gun fire.

He pulled himself out in the rain, falling into the mud alongside his squadron. The gunfire still echoed but he had no clue where it was coming from.

All he knew was that when he was able to make out the shape of the front Humvee through the rain, that it was upside down and on fire.

He never thought he’d ever see a fire burning through the rain.

He also never thought he’d hold his best friend in his arms as he took his last breath, but those were two images permanently burned into his skull.

“Snap!” He futilely shouted as he pulled his friend from the wreckage, two more of his squadron members helping to grab the other soldiers.

The fire caught the sleeve of his uniform, but he squelched it out quickly and tried to get a pulse from Snap’s neck. There was one but it was barely there.

Someone called that they were radioing for help, someone ordered the shooting to stop, everybody else’s shouting was incomprehensible… it was all just shouting.

Snap wasn’t shouting. He could barely manage a whisper. His lips were just smacking together—

“Snap!” Poe shook him with bleeding knuckles, he couldn’t find a singular injury to staunch, they were all over… “Please Snap, hold on.”

The rain kept pouring. He took his last breath in his arms.

And it was all he could see. The dead look in his eyes, it was there almost every time he heard the rain.

It was still raining. He was still sobbing. He couldn’t catch his breath…

Was he on the floor?

He could feel the cool tile beneath him but he didn’t remeber collapsing. You must have lowered him to the floor...

He blinked through the tears, trying to calm himself down still, and found you kneeling by his side, two fingers pressed to his neck the same way he had pressed his to Snap’s neck… Your other hand was continually brushing through his hair, long and languid stroke back through his curls.

It should have been soothing, but nothing was right now.

“I—”

“Shh, Poe, it’s okay…”

Your hand reached up from his neck to wipe away his tears as his head leaned back against the cabinets in the counter.

“Don’t—” His sucked in a heavy breath. “Please don’t leave me…”

From your grip on his hair, you pulled his head forward into your chest and cradled him there as his hands found their way back to you.

“Poe, I’m not going to leave you.” You pressed a kiss to his hair. “I’m not going to leave you.”

The rain was still there. But he had you to hold him for now.

That had to do, for now.

——

->tags: @somuchrandomshxt @itsamedeemoney @blushingwueen @grincheveryday @tommy-holland @shakespeareanwannabe @mad-hatters-teapot

[nightklok]

28 Chickles?

76 Kiss Prompts [Open]

Is it cheating if I use an old prompt meme to complete today’s prompt? Probably but I had a majority of this written out so might as well finish it! Thank you for requesting this and sorry it’s a bit late! :O

Kloktober Prompt: Day 14-Preklok Whumptober Prompt: No 27-Power Outage

28. First kiss

It was the first band Pickles joined a few years after Snakes N’ Barrels disbanded. It was a band that would disband not long after being signed and before they could even produce their first album. The genre didn’t felt like it belonged to him compared to his previous band’s genre and it felt more like a job than anything else. However, it paid the bills and got him to at least work with music once again. Even if it felt like he was once again working from the bottom up, at least he wasn’t entirely lost and was knowledgeable on how the music industry was. He hadn’t really tried to get back into making music after Snakes N’ Barrels disbanded. Despite the offers from various groups, he had ignored them all without even giving a response. He ended up shifting from a music-related job to a non-music related job and dealing with the horrible addictions that never left his side. As if by fate, it took one DUI related charge to end up having Charles Foster Offdensen, a freshly graduated law student, to take his case. Somehow, he ended up winning that trial and Charles asked for no money but simply to be his manager and lawyer. It was honestly laughable. He hadn’t worked with bands or even gone solo so how could someone even want to risk their career by being associated with him? He was serious and spoke in a way that meant he looked at every outcome and wanted it regardless. It took a few days of convincing and Pickles agreed even though he was sure he was a lost cause (pun intended). His new manager proved his worth and got him band auditions fairly quickly as a lead singer. As quickly as they happened, they quickly ended successfully with tons of accepted phone calls. Pickles never really did felt like he fit in with any of them, however. There was no spark he felt playing with them like with his previous band and he was wondering if it was worth straggling in some newly licensed lawyer to his troubles. Charles never did judge him though unlike his previous managers. He listened to his complaints and how he felt with an open mind and tried to adjust the best he could. However, he had a feeling that most likely the ‘heavy’ sound Pickles was looking for wouldn’t be available or at least for the moment. At the advice given, he had accepted the offer from the next band he passed the audition for. It was a rock band that was a bit heavier sounding but it was better than the other bands, and he tried to make his peace with that. It didn’t take long for them to record a single, send it to record labels, and soon get signed. He thought he would be happy that a record label signed onto their band so quickly but he found himself not feeling that euphoria once felt when his first band was signed. The moment he signed his name on that contract, it felt like he was just signing up for a job above all else. The fear that perhaps he just simply overstayed his welcome and would never be able to make music again was running through his head. If not music, then what else was there for him? As the other band members began pestering the poor secretary for directions to the nearest bar, Charles trailed behind to keep up with Pickles. He wanted to say something; he could tell he didn’t seem happy but the only words that came out of his mouth were, “Well, ah, how about I buy you a drink? To celebrate?” That seemed to be enough for Pickles as he turned to look at him with a small smile, “A free drink and getting signed? Sounds like a good day to me.”                                                          ____ If Pickles had to be reminded further that the band most likely had the same behaviors as his previous one, it was their excessive drinking and somehow finding someone to buy coke off before the drinks even arrived. Within minutes, they were already high, and trying to out drink the other. Even for Pickles’ standards, they weren’t worth trying to keep up with. Pickles sat alongside him, taking advantage of the free nuts that were provided as he drank his beer. He was surprisingly quiet for once; he barely spoke a word since they arrived and mainly just asked the bartender for more drinks. Charles didn’t say anything either. Not that he didn’t want to but what could be said when he’s forced to watch his new clients already drink their first potential paycheck away? Like watching the same movie for the umpteenth time, unsurprisingly came the women and men. He found himself not even surprised when one by one his new bandmates began leaving with said people. They were either making out with them, taking them to one of the bathrooms, or leaving the bar altogether to some nearby hotel or something. That didn’t mean he wasn’t asked to go along. An occasional bandmate would remember he existed or one of the people drunkenly recognized him and asked him to join. He was reminded way too much of the nights spent in shitty hotels with people whose faces he’d barely even remember. It felt like as he aged those memories became less and less positively memorable and only left a bad taste in his mouth. He politely declined and watched his last bandmate leave the bar with some girl close by him. He was ready to leave to go home himself, “I guess we should call it a night,” He finished his beer quickly, ready to pull out his wallet. “I did say I would be paying,” Charles answered as he pulled out his own wallet, “And if you’d like, we can go to my place. It’s quieter and we can discuss a bit about the meeting with the record execs tomorrow.” “You did say it was for only my drink. Not the rest of the guys,” He grinned at him as if having won some game of thinking one step ahead, “But sure, could use some company.” There was a slight back and forth over who was paying the tab but eventually settled on a compromise that they would pay for half of it as they both knew the other bandmates would never pay them back. Hopefully, the revenue from the new album would be more than enough to cover that expensive tab. The two walked out of the bar and into the pouring rain that almost came out of nowhere. And unfortunately, Charles’ car was parked at least four blocks from the bar. Even though he had offered to make the run himself and drive back to get him, Pickles went with him. He hadn’t drunk himself to oblivion and at least didn’t slip on the mud or complain about getting wet. By the time they reached his car, they were soaked to the point where air-drying wasn’t much of an option. Charles had to turn on the AC to prevent the windows from fogging up. The cool air, even if it was as low and away from them as much as possible, did nothing to help relieve them from being soaking wet and cold. He didn’t have a blanket or anything with him, so he had to hope for the best that a near-half-hour drive wouldn’t result in them getting sick, “Sorry, I have to keep the AC on for a while.” “It’s fine. Do you have clothes I can borrow when we get to your place?” “Of course.” Between the sound of rain hitting against the car, the windshield wipers, and some Creedence Clearwater Revival song playing from the radio, it filled the silence when they didn’t talk. What they did talk about was trivial things or light jokes about getting sick. It had eventually died down when Pickles quietly dozed off. They reached the apartment a bit longer than usual because of the rain and sudden heavy traffic. Pickles had woken up just as Charles was beginning to park his car in the lot. He stretched as he got out of the car, adjusting his wet clothes that must’ve stuck to his skin like glue. To say he was cold was an understatement but the beers he drank thankfully didn’t keep him from freezing. The elevator was working this time and there was no one else there or when they reached his floor. It was as silent and eerie as walking into some unfamiliar hallway at night could be. The sound of wet shoes and socks against the floor was audibly heard, squeaking against the floor but was muffled by the bolt of lightning that came by. Even though it wouldn’t make much of a difference aside from mud, Charles told him to take off his shoes and leave it by the doorway when he unlocked the door to his apartment and let him in. As directed, he took off his shoes and left it to the side as the other did the same. His apartment was as ordinary as it looked for a lawyer just starting out. Nicely put together furniture and decorations that did make the place look a bit more put together. Maybe it was all Ikea furniture or something, Pickles wasn’t really one to keep track of furniture brands and shit. Either way, it looked nice and inviting to him compared to his own shitty studio apartment. He followed him to his bedroom where he had shown him a drawer that was full of warmer clothes. He found an old college sweatshirt and pants to go with. It’d probably be loose on him but anything was better than the wet clothing that was only reminding him further of how cold he was. Charles showed him where the bathroom was to change, “You can leave the clothes by the sink, I’ll throw them in the wash. Make yourself at home,” He told him before he went to his room to change. He put on whatever casual clothing he had and towel-dried his hair as much as he could. It was still damp to the touch, but he could live with that. He did see the bathroom was open when he stepped out, grabbing his clothes and putting them in the hamper. He’d take them to the washing machines downstairs when he got the chance. He went to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses, and poured brandy in both of them. Coffee or tea was his usual go-to when he had guests over but he knew Pickles enough on what he would prefer,  and that was neither most of the time. He found Pickles in the living room, staring at the collection of law textbooks and framed awards that were either in the bookcase or framed near it. “You did fencing in college?” He asked as he looked at one of the plaques on the wall. He took the brandy Charles offered with a quick ‘thanks’. “Yes, actually. I was president there for the last, ah, two, or three years of college.” “Wow. You’re really full of surprises.” He laughed. “How so?” “Well, you’re some lawyer who wants to be a manager and for a has-been like me. That’s gotta be costing you more than if you just stayed as a lawyer. Recording that single must’ve not been cheap. And that bar tab either. ” “I’ll admit these expenses weren’t cheap but I have had money put aside for it. We’re signed now, so I’ll be getting that money back soon.” He answered. “You’re a little too optimistic about this, chief. You’ll be lucky if we even get a hit single.” “Well, it’s a risk, isn’t it? Working at an industry like this is a risk and I’m well aware of that. I might get that money back. I might not. We’ll see.” He answered, “but I suppose that’s where you come in if you want me to get my money back.” Maybe, it was the beer, brandy, and the eventual sickness looming over but it was hard to take him seriously, “You’re really putting so much confidence in me that it’s funny, really. Y’know there are people I know that do what you’re doing and before you know it, they’re stuck working at 9 to 5 jobs down at Santa Monica instead of retiring. At least you’re...like the same age as me? I won’t fuck your life up that much.” “You’re not gonna fuck up my life. I have a plan for this, Pickles. If the next band doesn’t work out, we can try another. You still have a name-” “A name?” He laughed bitterly, “What name, Charles? The one where the news talk about me with a DUI charge? Or a drug overdose? Or the one who sang for some stupid band with a stupid genre that’s clearly a joke now! Hair metal. that’s what they call it now! What kinda person would take someone who sang for hair metal seriously?” Charles knew he was right. His name in headlines was almost never for anything good. But all it took was one look in him to see that he still had...something. Something that not a lot of musicians had and something he’s probably yet to discover himself, “But you still have a chance, don’t you? You still have a voice to sing with and that should be more than enough to make a new name for yourself. The only person isn’t really believing this is you.” “What do I have to believe in myself for, Charles?” He shook his head as if he had mentally answered his own question, “God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have let you get dragged with me. I should just go and quit or something. I’ll be saving you a lot more time and money if I just-” The lights flickered for just a moment but a clap of thunder quickly shut them off. Charles cursed under his breath as he went over to one of the switches to flick them on and off. It was completely off, “Guess we’re stuck like this for a while.” “Just fantastic,” Pickles muttered. He finished the rest of his brandy, “Look, I’ll just go. Save yourself the trouble-” “It’s literally pouring out and you’re drunk. I’m not letting you leave,” He answered. He watched his expression and sighed, “But clearly...there are things that you need to talk about, right? I mean...if you really did want to quit music altogether, why did you say yes when I asked to work for you?” He wanted to say it was just because he wanted to humor him. But even then, was it really the answer? He looked down as he shrugged, running his hand through his hair, "I dunno. I guess I thought I was getting a second chance. Some good job I’m doing at keeping that second chance, aren’t I?"

“I think you’re doing well with what you can do. It’s just hard to find a good band to blend with nowadays I suppose,” Charles said. He approached him closer. He wanted to help him but he was scared of having him run off when he was so close to having him open up to him, “But you still have the same potential as you did when you started in the band.” But you clearly need to work out whatever you’re going through just let me help you-

Pickles at least didn’t try to leave and instead agreed to coffee. He sat in the kitchen chair as Charles boiled water on the gas stove. There was a comfortable silence between them as they didn’t say anything and only listened to the relentless rain hitting against the window and the thunder that occasionally sounded. He poured the water and instant coffee to two mugs, letting him use the milk and sugar to his liking which was borderline sweet.

Charles used the rest of the milk for his coffee and threw the carton out. He sat in the chair opposite him, taking a sip of his coffee that quickly warmed him up. Pickles didn’t say anything and he didn’t want to pry so he didn’t say anything either.

“Can I ask you something?” Pickles asked as he stared at the mug. He couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Sure.”

“Why did you wanna work for me? Any other band or celebrity with a cleaner record could easily take you in.”

It was a question that Charles knew would come up inevitably and he had prepared for it in advanced. Prepared professional and cordial sentences that might not mean much but would at least mean something meaningful to Pickles. Though, that was with the implication that they would’ve been in some professional setting. Not in his apartment with Pickles wearing his old clothes and after he had probably poured out more of his feelings than he had intended to. It was only fair he did the same, “Well, to put it bluntly, your music saved my life and I only wanted to return the favor I suppose.”

Whatever Pickles had expected, definitely wasn’t that. He looked up to meet his eyes, green eyes somehow illuminated by whatever light the window gave. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I was a teen too when you started with the band. Probably just as angry and misunderstood as you were. Didn’t have a family or really anybody to turn to or much hope for my future. I just never understood when people said that music saved their life. Until I came across that first album and I really understood the feeling. It was made me decide to go into music business though I honestly admit I didn’t expect to ever be working with you until I was assigned your case.”

“And I’m guessing you took it as a sign or something?”

“Something like that. I mean, I would’ve been working for someone who basically shaped my career. It would be ironic, wouldn’t it be?”

Pickles was silent afterwords for a good while. Most likely to take the words in and realize just how much Charles meant it when he promised him he would find him a band and get his career started again. Charles was legit. Charles wasn’t saying this to get something out of him. He was being genuine and it brought in a whole new swarm of thoughts he hadn’t thought of in a long time. He looked at him with a sad smile that told a thousand words even if he said only ten, “I wish we met earlier. We could’ve had fun together,”

He must’ve been lonely, Charles quickly realized. And it was for good reason too; his band members were nearly a decade or so older than him and he most likely never talked with people around his age. As fun as it must’ve been getting to feel like an adult talking with adults, it could get tiring too and sometimes makes one wish they spoke about bullshit to someone their age. He knew that all too well, “Me too. But, at least we know each other now and I promise that it’s only going to get better from here.”

“You really believe in me, don’t you?” Pickles asked.

If the months and money and time Charles did wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what would. He knew that sometimes words just confirmed the actions so he nodded, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be taking such a risk if I didn’t.”

What he didn’t expect to happen though was for Pickles to being to cry. He had his hands on his face, elbows on the table, and tried not to show he was crying. But his sniffles and tears seeping through his hands easily gave it away. The tears weren’t of sadness and Charles knew that well enough. It was enough though for him to still go over to him and hold onto him tightly. He felt him wrap his arms tightly around him as the cries turned to sobs as he let however many years of pent up feelings and loneliness finally resurface and wash away like the rain.

Eventually, they pulled away. There were no other words that really needed to be said. It was just one look that said what they wanted to say but neither had the words to say it. It was Pickles that kissed Charles. It wasn’t those kisses that were meaningless and full of absolute desperation and hastily made to get on to the point. It was full of a tenderness and warmth that neither hadn’t felt before or for a long way. It was warm and against the coldness of the apartment from the rain and darkness, it was enough.

                                                        ____

They lied down in Charles’ bed with a blanket covering them. Even if the room was a bit chilly, the warmth from the blanket and each other was more than enough.

“You could always go solo.” Charles said as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I guess...but I’m kinda tired of being in the spotlight. I mean, I like it and all but being at the center of it? Gets exhausting.” “Hm, there’s guitar auditions you can always do. You can always do that,” Charles pointed out.

They know it’s not gonna last. The band, that is. Most likely the band would fizzle out into obscurity and never be remembered within a month.

“True. Probably still have my Les Paul in my apartment somewhere.”

Charles honestly wished he could make him actually be happy. He did know that this was a problem he couldn’t exactly fix. As much as he wished he could be, there was a limit and he was sure he already was nearing it. He could only help as much as he could and be content with it; convincing Pickles to get back into music and letting him take direction in how he wanted to pursue music was one of the only things he could do. Being there for him, not as a manager/lawyer, but as someone who cared for him on a personal level also was something he could do. And he could do both; he was great at multitasking. “For the next band, I wanna play drums. I wanna be in the background this time,” Pickles murmured sleepily as he wrapped an arm around him.

“I’ll look into drum auditions tomorrow,” Charles answered. He would’ve protested at them breaking boundaries, it certainly wasn’t professional, but who conducted meetings in bed anyway? He held onto him, feeling the slight dampness of his dreads that were still not completely dry but didn’t care. Mentally, he reminded himself to find that newspaper he looked at the other day. He vaguely remembered an ad trying to find a drummer for some metal band. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too late and that they would need a lawyer or manager as well.

The rain was still pouring and the power wouldn’t come back on until just a few hours later. But for at the moment, neither of those things really did matter. They held each other in silence, listening to the rain as eventually they fell asleep.