#mostly made for myself so i can keep track of all of the wonderful fics i read

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 31

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 8.5k

A/N: I got a bit carried away. HEHEHEHE.

Andrea's little look

When the sun comes in you aren’t regretful. But you aren’t happy. 

Your head is pounding and there’s a pit in your stomach that you can’t get rid of and it isn’t from the remnants of alcohol. Your legs are intertwined and his palm is laid flat on your stomach. There’s a part of you expecting to wake up and rub yourself on him, continue what you left off last night. But you have the urge to cry. 

“I don’t know what came over me last night.” He speaks first, raspy from sleep or maybe lack thereof. “We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have.” 

“it wasn’t just you. I wanted it to happen.”

 You remove his palm from your belly and raise it, fingers around his wrist you intertwine your other hand with his. It was calloused and littered with tiny abrasions. Much more man. “But I think I know it wasn’t right. I don’t feel really good.” Stroking your thumb over the knuckle of his pointer finger. Skin had been split there many times, you feel it. 

His chest stutters below your cheek. “I’m sorry.” His voice is so broken you drop his hand and shoot straight up. His eyes are darkened and there’s tears out of the corner of his eyes. One falling too quickly for him to hide it. Your own chin quivers and you sit criss crossed beside him, taking the pad of your thumbs to wipe the tears that continue to fall. You whisper his name, leaning close to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I pushed you away…I was sick from feeling so guilty—I couldn’t focus the first few months—until I started therapy—Andrea..” His voice rips and his eyes are swarmed with tears. You weren’t— you couldn’t be immune to his tears. You weren’t angry, you never could be. Not when you know how he was taken advantage of. 

“Javi…” You wipe his cheeks. It’s all you could say.

“Tell me— tell me how it made you feel.”

“I was mostly feeling for you—because of what she did-“ You lie and he shakes his head.

“Just tell me.” He sits up and you shuffle to give me space. “Tell me so I can stop driving myself crazy. So that when you leave I’ll be fine.” 

The tables turned and you hate it. 

You recall being in this position, wanting every answer from him so that you aren’t left to spiral when he leaves. There’s so much to tell him, he looks so desperate. So tortured by his own circumstance. You swallow, furrowing your brows. Wondering how to start. How to lay all of it out on the table. You peek at the window, the sun creeping in, it's early. Early enough for the house to still be silent. Your hair is mussed, you feel his wet eyes burning a hole through you. 

“I hated you. For those two weeks. My cheeks would get red from anger when I thought about how careless you could be… plan a future with me after everything we went through– after everything I went through. It drove me crazy that you couldn’t fucking keep track of who you fucked and when or whatever. I was already feeling insecure when she came into the bathroom at Frankie’s wedding, I knew something was wrong. Honestly, I don't even remember the night when you told me. All I recall is the moment you told me, the pain I felt in my chest. I don't know—I realized over the years  that I had the mental power to completely block out what hurts me the most. Like I don't think I can make out my fathers face and I can't remember that night. It started my journey to try to forget you.” You know every word is hurting him but maybe he could get a taste of what you felt. Your thinking isn't spiteful, you just want him to understand. He asked for this. “Lorraine was lying, I know. But you took responsibility so quickly, I know you had no idea but the idea that it could have been true felt like a heartbreak in itself. You laughed last night… when I told you how hurt I was–crying to songs–”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Javier, it's okay. You just have to know that I spent those two weeks picturing you rubbing her belly, and laying in bed with her, and whispering to her to not wake your father up. And at the wedding she said that you used to tell her I was nothing to you. I couldn't picture you saying it but after the wedding I could see it clearly. I knew it was really over when I saw you holding her at 7/11. I walked away without saying anything but I was really hoping you’d come after me.”

You can't see him, he’s sat up now, shifted behind you but his downcast gaze is felt. You can feel him thinking behind you, you're taking him step by step along your brain. “I decided I was going to move away. I buried myself in phone calls and realtors and car dealerships, packed everything or whatever. I didn’t speak to anyone really, just wanted to disappear. But I wasn’t going to miss your wedding.”

“Why?” He isn’t crying anymore, the fog in your brain clears. Glancing over your shoulder you connect with his own blood shot stare. 

“I had to see it so I can just move on. You know… then we all found out.” He asked not to see you. “I was so heartbroken for you. All the pain I felt from the rejection from my father, from when you left for Houston, from when you told me she was pregnant– none of it compared to the pain I felt for you when I found out it was all a lie. I just wanted to see you.” Fuck, your voice finally gives. You could spell it out for him like you did the rest, you could tell him that his request freed you while simultaneously ripping you in half. You know it led you to accomplish all the things you wanted, you left your doomed home for christ's sake. But I wanted you to do it with me. We could have left together. You think your body's decision to sob and fold over into your hands tells him the rest of what he needs to know. 

“Andrea…” He whispers, his hands encircling your shoulders. You shake him off. 

You catch a breath and wipe your tears with your palms. Probably dragging some mascara along the way. “It isn’t smart for us to be doing this. I promised myself I wouldn't. I should go.” Your body begins before you can even form a thought. Getting off his bed, still in tears you search for your panties. The bed springs with him coming to his feet and he’s so much larger than you, you begin to miss fifteen minutes ago when you were nothing but someone encased by his warmth. You snatch the small thing and nearly fall over from blurry eyed vision while attempting to put them on. Like the gentlemen he was and fuck him, Javier holds your arm steady. “Thanks.” You murmur before padding away from him. 

“Don’t leave… you don’t have to stay here like we said but please…” He rasps, “Please dont leave yet.” He lets go of your wrist. You were a victim to his begging eyes, and frankly you loved the chase. No matter how many times it hurts you. It’s too easy for him to convince you but he heard you. You had to be fair, you had to listen to him. 

Without a word you pull the chair of his desk with a screeching sound. He fucked you there once or twice. You missed when memories still felt sweet. You settle down on the chair, elbows on the desk you inhale and exhale steadily. In your peripheral Javier settles at the corner of the bed. 

“I won’t keep you here. I didn’t scheme to have you back in my bed, to confuse you—frankly I’m fucking confused. I’m confused on what I feel. I’ve spent years working out how to approach you, my therapist brought me through it. I knew once I saw you I had to tell you everything, I had to apologize and let you make the decision whether you wanted me in your life or not.“ It comes out all in one breath, no longer a whisper or a rasp. “And I’m so fucking sorry but the second I saw you all of that went out the window and I shouldn’t have done this.” 

“I offered to sleep in bed with you.” You correct, he was apologetic about the wrong things. 

“I was emotionally manipulated by Lorraine. I don’t care if it makes me sound weak, I’ve worked it out with my therapist. I already felt like I needed to push away anyone I loved, I guess I’m like my mother in that way. It’s not an excuse but through all the shit I went through in Colombia at the very least I can say I left that place with a better understanding of myself. I made too many decisions for you—for us. I thought I was protecting you—it’s what I feel like I’m actually good at. And I want to tell you that I have changed, that you have to stay so we can make it work. I want to—” He’s speaking with his hands and suddenly they drop to his lap. “But I can’t keep making decisions for you. It didn’t work before, it’s unhealthy. So please Andrea… just—. What do you want?”

Your blood runs dry. Sobered in an instant from your state at the hardwood, your brows furrow. “What?” 

“I will spend every day of my life apologizing to you if that’s what you need. I’ll never speak to you again if that’s what you want. I’ll move to New York and you know I hate New Yorkers. I’ll move on. I’ll leave town without a trace. I’ll do whatever you want.” It’s desperate, your heart is beating against your rib cage so hard you fear it’ll break the bones. “What do you want Andrea?”

You feel like you’ve been here before, your future spanning across your palm. Choice is a funny thing, especially when the possibilities are endless. Yet for someone like you, choice feels constrictive-suffocating—panic inducing. It feels like your heart is going to break through skin and bone. What a mess your mind is, what beauty.

Everything speeds and flashes those few seconds you’re absorbing the simple question of what do you want? 

You see Javier pinching the skin of your back inspecting the freckles there when you were twelve, Javier lifting you up to give you a better view, Javier kissing you for the first time, Javier coming home, Javier telling you that he loves you. 

He always made the choice to touch you, to kiss you, he said he loved you first. In this Chess board he played white and made the first move. You accept each move because it’s Javi and he has a read on just exactly what you want. 

You lift your chin.

“I want to be given time. I want to see that you’ve worked on yourself. I want to learn you again. I want you to learn me. We can see each other as friends while I’m here. I won’t be staying the night with you again, there’s too much—“

“Sexual tension.” He finishes and you roll your eyes hard, it burns from its previous use (sobbing).

“To put it lightly. “ You sigh, wiping the last wet spot on your cheek. Feeling confident when in control. “I want us…” Your brows knit, overtaken by the reality that he will quite literally do anything you say. “To go to dinner.” His brows raise. “As exes—and friends. I want to know everything, I want you to tell me there.”

He shrugs, “I can tell you now.”

“No. I need a neutral environment.” He nods in agreement, the two of you tried to be vulnerable last night and that ended with your pussy on his face. “I want you to speak to Lorraine.” 

You watch his body language shift, he was sitting almost boyish and relieved that you had taken control of the situation but this request—it almost looks like he’s about to jump out of his skin. Cheeks paling. “Only if you feel you’re ready to. I will too, separately or together—whichever you prefer. Even if I decide to stay exes, this could be a step to fixing our friendship because we lost that too.” You bring one knee up on the chair and rest your cheek on it. Afraid to say this next part because it might discredit all these boundaries your setting in place. Attempting to be progressive and modern and healthy. Maybe it was the school teacher in you. You lick your lips a bit anxious to speak again. 

Javier’s eyes narrow, he leans forward with his arm crossed. “Is that all?”

“I don’t want to hear about whatever hookers you paid when you were away. It’s disgusting and frankly disrespectful to even bring up to me.” Yeah, maybe you were being a little hypocritical and rash. But fuck it, if he said he’d do anything you’d ask. 

“Correct if I’m wrong but-“

“Javi, I don’t give a fuck. You said anything.” Your jealous bone was a lethal one. It was like an open wound you loved to toy at. 

Sadistically, you pressed him for answers and you were even more furious internally that he actually answered them as if it were nothing. You’re sure when you were tipsy and warm and horny, it didn’t bother you. But you swear your eye twitched the moment you woke and replayed that conversation in your head. Win stupid prizes you suppose, tough shit. 

“Alright.” He rasps with a curt nod. His eyes full of promise, nervous and prepared to ace the exam you laid out for him. Ms. Diaz style. 

With the morning birds chirping at his window, collar bone exposed from his shirt ruffled from your hold on him the entire night. Javier was here, in front of you, twenty six years of age. 3 years in the police force. Six years in the DEA. Each time you see him he looks older than the day before but still you stare and see just Javi. The unchanging eyes that have done nothing but adore you your entire life. Lips that called you beautiful when no one had, called you smart. Plush lips that kissed you. Hands that pushed you in rivers and pulled you back out. Fingernails that traced words into your sleeping back. The two of you, changing in time mentally-physically and still somehow possessing a love so strong it goes unchanged. 

Your decision was made. You’re not sure he’s deserving of your never ending generosity. You’ll give it to him anyway. 

He just needs a bit of fear in his heart. 

You decide to sneak out before Chucho could wake. You tell Javi that you’ll call him later, that you need time alone. Or maybe away is what you meant. He looked pained and truthfully, you felt just the same. How easy it would have been to drop your pride and climb back into bed. Be safe, know deep in your heart that he would never hurt you, not again. You believe the words he says, you just want to make sure he believes it. 

You realize, very rudely, that you aren’t sixteen anymore and this isn’t a summer at the lake. The Christmas morning air was chilly and you were ready to spend the day in your hotel room wondering if this was all a big mistake. 

Driving out of the rolling fields and into town, you're forced to take a back road to your hotel because of Laredo’s Light and Lord Christmas Fair. It was your favorite part of Christmas until age thirteen when the fair went from running around with your friends to a day to hang with your boyfriends. It wasn’t like you had many friends outside your brother but the Christmas fair was always an opportunity to just have fun with girls your age. Of course until everyone got boyfriends. You hated on it but you secretly wanted to also walk around cozied up with someone you loved, decorate some cookies and kiss with sugar laced lips. 

It doesn’t seem like this Christmas will cut it either. You fish the gold little key from your cup holder and shuffle back out of your car and into your hotel room. Phone rattling on the desk. You frown, thoroughly confused and slightly creeped out by the telephone seemingly going off while you weren’t there. Your hotel rooms a mess from your nerves of seeing your family. Hah, imagine what the place would look like if you were warned about Javi. You don't think too hard and pick up the phone before you can set your purse down. 

“Hello?”

“I don’t want to be apart from you.”

Your heart swells and your cheeks heat. You should have known giving him your hotel room extension was a bad idea. He was always like this, a flirt on the phone because you couldn't be there to smack his hand. You shut your eyes and place your hands on your hips like a mom ready to scold. “How many times have you called?”

“Twice, will you come back. It felt like we argued.” He rasps and you consider it for just a moment. 

“We didn’t argue.” You say it softly and you can’t understand why. You settle into the desk and begin undressing to just sleep the day away. 

He clears his throat, “I guess I’m not used to you being around and willingly deciding to leave my room. It feels like you're punishing me.”

“That’s not what this is. I don’t blame you for anything.” 

“I know.” You hear the unspoken, so why can’t we just be together. You know it’s what he’s thinking because when you’re around each other logic runs out the door and all you can conjure up is acting on the intense feeling of love you have for each other. You’ve got to learn to harness it, because look where it got you your whole lives. 

“If it makes a difference, I don't want to be doing this.”

“So don’t” It’s quick and biting and his voice is clear as day. 

“I just don’t want us to make a crazy decision before working things out. I don’t want…” Your voice dies a bit, it's much easier to say it how it is without seeing his face. “I don’t want us not to work again because we rushed into things and chose not to acknowledge everything between us. I can’t-I can’t- I don’t have it in me.” 

I’m tired, I miss you so badly but you were hurt more than me and I want you to recognize it. One day you’ll figure that all I want is for you to be okay. 

“Okay.” It’s soft and so him. It’s the tone he has when you're dozing off against his chest, when his palm cradles the back of your head. When he speaks to you like there’s nothing that could ever do you harm. “I’ll stick to the plan. You tell me when to call Lorraine, I’ll do it. Tell me when you want to have dinner. I’ve done harder things in my life.” He chuckles beyond the phone and you follow suit. Missing him and damning your attempt at self control. Unsure what to say next you look around the room because you’re afraid of the silence that comes once you hang up. Soon to be a stark realization that now that you’ve had him again you’ll need him around. 

“Well…” You fill the awkward silence with even more awkwardness. 

“I have a request for our relationship repair list.”

You smirk, eyes trained to the carpeted ground, It amazes you how white the rug was for a hotel room.”Shoot.”

“Let me call you every night. Good night or a conversation or whatever.” 

Cheeks ablaze you feel your tiny smile lines deepen. There's nothing more humbling than smiling at nothing. You were smiling deeply and you hope he can’t hear it in your voice when you say, “Sure.” in an attempt of being aloof and collected. You’d be kicking your feet if you could. Staring at the pink off-shoulder top that will likely be out to no use this trip. You think of sugar kisses. “Come to my hotel at 5. I want to go to the Christmas fair.” 

You hear the springs of his bed loud and creaking like he sat up, “Like a date?” A bit too high, he clears his throat. 

“No. Like Javi and Andrea hanging out in town. As friends. “ You’re not convinced yourself. “Okay?”

“Okay."

Javier is whipped, to put it lightly. He didn’t really care if it's just two friends hanging out. What a joke. Javier showered fifteen minutes longer than usual, hoping the stains of who he was in Colombia don’t show. Tempted to scrub his skin raw he decides that you’d have him stains and all. He steamed the red button up that had been catching dust at the top of his suitcase, ruffled his hair in the mirror–once–twice–three times. He gets it the way you like. Slightly falling over his forehead and curling at his nape naturally. His hair was swept to the side these days, an attempt to look like he has it together. He knows what you like best. You’ve never commented about it but he remembers the look you used to give him when he let his hair be. He considers putting on his ranch hat, sunglasses but opts the brown belt, jeans and cowboy boots had said enough. 

Dr. Hertz is going to kill me, he thinks the moment he looks at himself in the mirror and considers cutting flowers from the yard. 

Waiting for the bathroom so he could brush his teeth once more he wonders what gotten into you two last night. He couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, so quickly the two of you were reduced to sex crazed animals. He told himself it wasn’t going to be this way, that no matter how good you looked and— you never looked better— no matter what— he’d show you how good he could be first. 

But he fucked it all up talking about his hookers and eating your cunt. 

Now he’s being forced to show you how good he could be—on your own terms. Which was both terrifying and absolutely exhilarating. You must know how flustered he gets when you take control. He can feel himself crumbling already. Ready to drop to his knees and beg you just to trust his word. 

But you were a school teacher, you had to have believed in the tales you told your students. The hare and the tortoise. Slow and steady wins the race. He’ll be at that pace as long as it’s you at the finish line. 

Javier told Chucho that he was taking you out to the Holiday festival. He just smiled and went on with his business, which was wrapped in a blanket on his recliner watching a new American Experience episode on Ellis Island. Javier chuckles to himself while retrieving his keys at how content his father was on days like these. 

Turning the keys with a jiggle, Javier realizes his fathers truck was pushing on fifteen years old. I should really buy my own car. It struggles like it always did but eventually tracks the gravel onto the road. It was a chillier Christmas, like the weather knew you’d be in town. Give you a real taste of winter. The roads were clear up until main street when Javi realized that maybe taking the road past the festival wasn’t the smartest idea. He’ll blame his newfound discomfort for American roads after years in Colombia. 

“Fuck.” He mutters, looking at the window and realizing that all of Laredo would be there. Strangers who knew him, who read about him, who would wonder why he was here. Wondering why he was here with you and not Lorraine. They last saw him as the man who left the golden girl at the altar. The judging stares and whispers would be a guarantee. 

But once he approaches the grubby hotel you were at, your blinds open. Perched up on your bed in a pink sweater, eyes glued to a notebook scribbling. Heedful in your own way, like whatever you had to write was very important. Cute little ripple between your brows. In 1986 your hair was dark with a diamond in your nose. 

You lighten your hair, stop wearing your nose ring and start wearing rings. Javier feels his chest tighten with every second he’s looked at you since yesterday. It’s like every time you see him you’re trying to remind him that there will never be anyone else. 

Javier looks at himself in the rear view like a kid getting ready for his first date, nervous. It seemed that you noticed his headlights through your window because when he looked back up you were opening the door to your hotel. Javier opens the door to receive you. Light pink sweater falling off your shoulder showing him skin that would mean nothing to him if it were anyone else, but it’s you and his urge to step close and kiss that freckled spot. Brown skirt flowing below your knees. He’s ogling you and he doesn’t care, he’s never seen anyone more beautiful. When he looks back up at your face you're doing the same, eyes glued to his hair. Score. 

“Hi.” He steps close and grabs your waist and places a chaste kiss on the cheek. Skin soft, you smell good enough to eat. He clears his throat, readjusting his belt as he straightens up and you burn bright red. “You look beautiful.”

Timid eyes flash back to him, “Thank you, you look good too. Like the hair.”

Javier’s lips twitch for a smile but he bites it back. “Let’s head on the road before this car breaks down.”

You snort and cackle, just a week ago who told himself he’d do anything to hear that goofy laugh of yours. One that would ring out in the cafeteria, earned side glances and scoffs from people who were too cool for school. He remembers sitting tables away, Lorraine clung to him and his ears perking up at the sound of your giggle from feet away. 

“God I’ve done way too much in that car.” Javier steals a glance at you in the same way you look at him. Kicking your sandals off, pulling over and bouncing in his lap. You both looked at each other and pictured the same distant memory. Your eyes narrow stopping at the door of the truck. “Not. Like that.” Through your teeth yet still teasing , opening the door and hopping in. 

He says under his breath, “Yeah sure.” 

“God this was a shit idea.” The two of you stood side by side in the middle of mainstreet. Parking lots turned into grounds for dingy rides. Tents set up with rigged games. Crowded at every corner. Children running, laughter and The Ronettes blasting so loud it sparks your nerves. You look up at Javier next to you and he’s already pulling out a cigarette. “Everyone’s here. I swear I just saw Josefina Alto with a baby bump.” You exhale. Javier looks to you from the corner of his eye, lighting his cigarette.

“Who’s that?” He murmurs, stick dangling from his lip. 

“Seriously?” You cross your arms, he gives the same dumb stare and shrugs. “The girl you had sex with right before we started dating.” In the bar, trying to forget about me. You might add but chose not to get him in uncharted waters. His brows shoot high, a small play of realization and disgust spreads across his features. His eyes drop to the ground.

“Yeah.” He says it to himself like a child punished. You hadn’t figured that running into people you’d like to avoid is absolutely what will happen tonight. He drags and exhales. Looking ahead at the food stables ahead, decked in green and red. “Fuck it. I see Elote.” He begins to walk and you follow with a giggle. Impossible to stay mad. Tempted to grab his hand but this isn’t what this was. You’re not sure who needs more convincing, you or him. Elote didn’t really read Christmas but any fair was a place for great vendors. You try to catch up with Javier’s steps but fail considering he had a head start and far more comfortable shoes. 

“Wait up!” You shout, shivering a bit. Texas really took the New York out of you. Despite the blistering reality of being seen and judged the fair was a beautiful sight. Christmas lights strung between light posts. Storefronts decorated with tinsel and the sounds of laughter from young teens in the artificial snow pit a few feet away. 

Javier shook his head and glanced behind at you, “No one told you to wear kitten heels. Ms. Nueva York.” He says in an accent so thick it’s much more “nueva yol”  than york. 

Eyes rolled, you try to keep up. “I could say the same about the ranchero costume Agente.” 

“Haha.” He deadpans. Approaching a crowd of teens in the middle of their way, the line to the swings bleeding into streets of food trucks. Javi stops for you and distracted by the world surrounding you, you walk straight into his back. Nearly falling over Javier swings around and grasps your wrists. Bringing attention to them. Pulling you through the crowd with head nods of hellos and permiso’s. He really was a celebrity to these kids. Eyes wide and shocked at the sight of their hometown hero. Él mató a Escobar! And whispers alike. Wide eyes like he was Princess Di. Glances at you, fortunately they were middle and high school aged children who likely didn’t know what a scandal Javier Peña and Andrea Diaz had been for many years.

You figured your neighbors and church goers would come up with their own stories. It wasn’t until a late night call with Genie that you decided to pry and ask if people had asked about her.

Well, the people at the wedding saw what they saw. They saw you leaving abruptly into the church where Lorraine was. Heard commotion in the chapel and then Javi never showed up. Then people started telling their own stories, seeing you kiss him at the library just a week before, sneaking out to his car or whatever those people stuck their nose at. Everyone just thinks you're the other woman. 

And well, you were quite set on not being home for longer than two weeks a year before you found out what was being said. The stomach turning panic you develop each time you're home wasn’t aimless. 

Fuck them all, you grip Javier’s hand tighter and he looks back at you as if he’s asking you are you okay? He leads you to the line. The only sound between them is the christmas bells and chatter. Eyes flashing to your conjoined hands you jump out of your own skin and drop his hand. His brows twitch and you know it hurts him. Deflect, deflect, deflect.

“You're a real local hero.”

He grunts, crossing his arms and you notice a slight bulge in the pockets of his denim jacket. “They can add that to the list of rumors.” You scoff, a breeze causing a rise of skin on your collarbone. You move up in line, the vendor's face is familiar but not enough to place a name. He still stares at the two of you a bit longer than your nerves appreciated. “¿Nos puedes dar dos elotes y dos chocolates con licor, por favor?¿Tienes cambio para un billete de cien?”

“Javi.” You tug his sleeve but he waves you off. This was how it used to be, you cursing him while pulling out your wallet and him looking at you feeling so deeply offended that you would dare lift a finger to pay for anything. Suppose Javier Peña was a traditionalist in that way. You know you’d be taken care of your whole life if you decided that was what you wanted. The vendor smiles and heads to prepare your order. Javier turned to you, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “I have a job you know.”

His lips flip in a mocking frown with a shrug, “Thanks for the information.”

“Jodón.”

“That’s liquor.” Javier grunts, settling into the picnic table. You sip too, face screwing. 

Coughing, “Oh fuck. That shouldn't be allowed.” Javi nods, using a bite of his corn as a chaser. He groans in approval and tilts the cobb toward you. You comply, biting into it, mindful of not looking suggestive. 

His stare burns anyway. 

You can’t pretend, none of this felt real. It was too easy to fall back in, to laugh, to share food, to bicker, to touch. Could it be this easy? It couldn’t be. Easy wasn’t really Andrea and Javi’s thing. Weighted with anxiety, you bask in his gaze and all of it goes away. You can only think of how it feels to be heard. How it felt to have him with you the day you met your father. How just last night he held you. How you still touched your empty ear lobe when you felt alone. This, this has to work this time. I don’t have it in me to love anything else–anyone else. I’ll forever be plagued by you and all the years we spent apart and the months we spent in love. 

Wiping your lips and murmuring a mouthful thank you. You decide to get on track. Stick to the plan. Put it all out there so you could never hurt each other again. Ask him the questions that make him break contact. 

And you do the thing you always do, “Is hero so bad of a rumor?”. The thing where something lingers on your mind and you pick up on it minutes maybe hours later like the person next to you sat in the corner of your brain and watched it form. Jaya, your mother, your brother could never catch on. But Javi, fucking Javi, caught on every time. Thrived in your disorganization, familiar with your quirks. There’s no one else for me. 

He chews, jaw tightening. He was chiseled by the gods, lord was it unfair to those who came after him. “Rumors are damaging in their own ways. I’d like to forget about Colombia but being called a hero at home keeps me stuck there. Stuck in all the things I didn’t do.” He shrugs, “Now I’m afraid of failing on the basis of expectations I haven’t even set myself.” 

I want to know everything, you think, but not here.You didn’t know how to console him, any topic of his time at the DEA made him tense and timid. He would contort into a person unknown. All you can do is ask,  “Does it get in the way of your self perception?” 

His brows furrow, placing his corn on a paper plate. “Suppose so.” It is short, definitive, like he isn’t ready to elaborate. He reaches for a napkin and blots the corners of his mouth and then yours. Oh, how desperately you wanted to lean your forehead into his chest and stay there. Feel his palm cradle you. Is it so bad? “You?”

Lips pursed, you think for a moment, body facing him entirely. If it were any other day, if the wedding hadn’t happened, he would have had his hands on your knees. But his distance is respectful and he’s being awfully good. “Well the rumors about me arent very positive. Most people view me as some homewrecker that fled when it blew up in my face.”

“People know she lied.” 

“I know. That’s why she moved two towns away. Still, narratives were made. That I have always been this side piece that you’ve kept burning for you for almost a decade. Even in high school.” You take a sip and suddenly, the drink isn’t so bad. You almost continue but a child screeches from a table away, his mother wiping his shirt of hot chocolate. “Just feels like I’m being punished for being in love.It was our business and I guess that’s why I don’t like coming here.” Most of it is true. The trauma that you have connected with this town isn’t just because your one true love failed here. 

He nods, you can see that he’s taking it all in but tethering on the line of a question. “So why did you ask to come here… with me.” He doesn’t have to say it. You know what he means, why, why in your right mind would you willingly make such a public display despite the gut turning unease being in Laredo gives you. Your brows screw together because your reasoning feels silly, desperate–pathetic even. But Javier never judges you. 

“Cus’ I don’t want to feel this way forever. I want to be able to feel at ease in my own home.” Glancing from his red shirt, up the column of his neck and to his eyes. No one has ever been so interested in what you had to say. “And because despite everything you make me feel secure. We could hate each other but if I was forced to face a fear it’s you that I would call first to encourage me.” It’s a confession in itself, it's saying, and I still love you. He knows it because his warm eyes soften in a way that you yearned to see again. 

He clears his throat, choked up and he tries to hide it by looking at the string lights above. Attempting to seem interested in anything but you for a few moments, “You’re not alone in that… you know– in feeling that way. Everything that went down with Lorraine created a fear I didn’t know I had– its sadistic– selfish thinking but it was only you who I wanted to be consoled by.” There's pure reluctance in his voice, like he knows that this sounds crazy. 

It’s not to you–you thought about it sometimes. I wished I was able to be your friend, be there for you, but I was far too in love just to watch it all happen.

You give him a nod and take another sip. It was warming you up but not in any significant way. The tone of it all took a turn. I guess we’re doing this here. 

“Can I tell you something that bothered me.” A bit averse, afraid of sounding like some girl who wants to pick a fight with their ex. You just want answers. “It’s not like– it’s just something that I felt.”

Luckily, Javier knows you aren’t one of those girls. He nods with permission. Looking awfully southern, all he needed was a cowboy hat to tip and you’d be on your way. You exhale, bracing yourself because it was a long one. Probably something he’s never thought about. You start anyway. “In New Orleans we had like our first real fight. Do you remember?” He nods, not saying a word. Looking grumpy as ever, you were too tempted to kiss those pursed lips. Focus. “In the car we had unprotected sex.You came in me, you sort of– well not sort of– you cleaned me after. Then in the hotel room you sort of freaked out on me like I was just waiting to trap you. You told me I should have gotten off of you. It was only after I said I was on birth control that you told me that if I got pregnant that you’d stay but when you were faced with the tiniest chance you put me to blame. I guess it just made the Lorraine thing all the more– I don’t know-sad for me. Because you dropped everything. You never questioned her, but you did so to me. I guess in my own twisted head, hearing all these rumors about me I started to really feel like maybe I was just this place holder until she came home. I know it’s ridiculous. And stupid but I felt like the woman in the bell tower. I guess being alone makes you over analyze a lot of shit. Sorry, I’m being crazy.”

“You’re not being crazy.” It’s whispered and it’s fast, it nearly interrupts you. When you two are together it’s scarily easy to forget all that's around you. The passing glances, the whispers, the sleigh bells, babies crying and carnival buzzers. “I was afraid. I am afraid. I was afraid of altering our lives together because I know that if you got pregnant I would have paused my life for you–that you would have to put a pause on your own life. In my head we live our dreams and then we start our family. I was reckless with Lorraine because I knew no matter the outcome… me and her wouldn’t work. Oil and water. I wanted to do right by you. For a moment I realized I hadn’t really done right by myself. I would have saved myself and everyone around me a lifetime of pain if I just pried. But…”

“We can’t go back there.” You finish. 

He shakes his head, distant. “Yeah.” He scratches his jaw. “I'd give anything to go back to seventeen and do it all over.” 

Goosebumps rising on your collarbone you hug yourself and lean into the table. The sun was completely gone now, nothing to warm you than his hulking form next to you. Gaze fixating back on the only man you’ve ever loved. “What would you change?”

Javier can’t hide it, he’s like you. His lips twitch and his nostrils flare a bit. He doesn't need to answer, you know. He decides not to answer at all, eyes floating from your own to your neck and down to your shoulder. Clenching his jaw for a split second,he takes out a camera from his jacket pocket and places it on the table.

 For a moment you think this is quite the awkward time for pictures but you soon realize this wasn’t that. He begins to remove his denim jacket. He doesn’t struggle, he places it over your shoulders. Warming you once more. Hands hovered and retreated. Like he was fighting the urge to pull you into him. Rub you warm and kiss your temple. 

You smile to yourself and sling your arms where they belong. His oversized jacket dangling off your wrists and covering your hand. You were truly surrounded by him, the scent of him settling into you, overwhelming your senses and you get the incessant need to be in bed with him suddenly. Smirking you dig your denim paws into the pockets of his coat, digging for anything he didn't remove. 

Jackpot.

You whip out his reds with a smile and he can only with with a sly smirk. You look up at him and wiggle your brows, placing the carton down in front of you. Raising your wrists and shaking the fabric away like you’re getting prepared to eat a mess meal. You pull your sleeves back and pull one lone cigarette out. Placing it between your lips, you stare at the wooden table- perfecting your smolder before looking up at Javi. Lips pursed in a frown, cigarette dangling off your lips, brows furrowed. “Smokin’ all alone querida?” You deepen your voice. 

He bursts in a laugh, eyes closing and dimples deep. You don’t break character, flipping your hair out of your face. “Is that what I look like to you?”

Raising your pointer and middle finger in two form, you remove the cigarette from your lips. “Yes. Am I seducing you Andrea?” You ask, wiggling your brows once more.

He leans in close, so close his lips nearly press on the shell of your ear. “What does that say about me if you are?” He rasps, hand spanning  against your stomach. Holding you in a way that’s far more suggestive than any grope. 

Rolling your eyes, “You weren’t supposed to answer!” 

He laughs at how flushed he can make you. How in the cold you look a million degrees warm, tips of your ears fiery. His hold on your stomach bringing you back to being under him,  pressing, can you feel me here Andrea? 

Straightening up and moving to grab the camera, he struggles to figure out how it works. “Pose for me, give me your Javi face or whatever.” 

You grin, sitting up straight and posing. Drowning in his coat, doomed to smile with his cigarette between your lips. He whispers something about being so beautiful before the flash goes off. He smiles to himself, placing the camera back on the table. 

“Alright, I know who’s operating that ferris wheel let’s go.” 

Hands warmed by disposable cups of your spiked hot cocoa, you lived New York City winters but still the forty degree texas chill caused occasional teeth chatters. Staring up at the ferris wheel decked in Christmas lights you look over at him. Cheeks bitten by the wind, he was already looking over at you. Looking at you in his coat. You two had been playing a little game of 21 questions on line while it moved so so slowly. 

“And you? What’s your biggest fear?” You ask finally. What a strange thing this was, learning more about the person you know best. His eyes narrow at you for a moment. Mustache and lips twitching into what seemed to be a ghost of a frown. 

He makes this face and blows some low air like he’s about to say something so real yet slightly embarrassing. He clears his throat, “Becoming my mother.” He can’t look at you when he says it because he’s visibly cringing and quickly bringing his hard hot cocoa to his lips. 

You blink hard at that. Blowing a raspberry with your lips. “Fuuuuuuuck” You say in an exhale. “I’ll drink to that.” You clink your drink with his while it was at his mouth, quickly taking a sip and catching him off guard. Laughing into his own drink it splashes in his face. 

Covering your own mouth, nearly choking on your drink and snorting and giggling so loud the surrounding line stares the two of you down with  judging eyes. Javier wipes his mustache that drips. Like always, the two of you laugh without regard of whos watching. 

Javier eventually slips the operator a smile and four dollars and you are loading the rickety piece of metal. Securing the holster until it clicks. Giddy, you lean your head into his shoulder quickly—feeling a surge of happiness before straightening up. 

“Happy?” Brow raised. 

You shrug, “Just missed you is all.” The stomach pitting rocking began as your cart lifted higher and higher in the air. Donny Hathaway’s “This Christmas” bleeds out the ride's low quality speakers.  

He hummed. Reaching an experimental hand out onto your lap, palm up. Lustful nights turned to innocent actions the next. Something in you heals. No cares, refusal to conform to what you should do according to everyone else. Run, two damaged goods are just as useless as one. You intertwine your hand with his. Pads of your fingertips pressed against his knuckles. 

Christmases spent stressed, the ones she spent alone. You decide this once you won’t rip herself from this illusion. God, you hope it wasn’t an illusion. 

He stares intently at where you connect. Those hands of his that have done wrong to many, still dwarfs yours. 

“Andrea.” It’s featherlight. Not in need of a response. “Stay at my house. I don’t like the idea of you at that place— when your home is here—with us—with me and my dad.”

You think of your plan. You think of how lonely it felt to be stuck in an outdated inn, watching M*A*S*H with only the sound of your breathing and the running air conditioning. His house was your home. 

“Alright. But I’m sleeping on the cot.” The uncomfortable little mattress that stood up at the basement of the Peña Ranch. Thrown on the floor with quilts whenever your brother would crash. 

“I’ll sleep on the cot.”

“No that’s unfair it’s your bed.”

“You’re my guest.” 

“I thought that it was my home? I’ll take the cot.” The ride jolts at the top of wheel. A view of the entire town, if you squint, you see the hills that lead to the rolling land where he lives. Homes glowing in various colors, the town that brings you pain, burns so beautifully for the two of you.

“Fine. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“I want you in the room with me.” You rush, burning bright at your display of desperation. Javier chuckled, squeezing your hand. 

“I’ll leave when you fall asleep.” 

“Or we can share the bed.” He suggests, slowly and mischievously, you both smirk at each other. Flashes of you pawing at his hair while he holds you still, making you feel all that you’ve missed. He gives a toothy grin, “Yeah… better not.”

[mendesblurb]

Our Souls Underwater

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: Mostly fluff, one or two mentions of smut, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

Word count:~2.4k

A/N: The following fic is a “friends with hidden romantic feelings” situation and it is the result of the author spending countless amount of late night hours with this one guy, where they were just two people keeping each other company while completing their own assignments and exchanging stories about life before romantic feelings emerged along the way. Oops that was kinda TMI (my bad lol), anyway do let me know your thoughts and opinions, so sorry for this story being random 🙈

//

Coming back from any long hours of interview sessions or live performances always felt strange for Shawn Peter Raul Mendes. It was an exhilarating and exhausting experience that made transitioning from a stadium full of people, sleeping in hotel rooms or tour buses and performing for millions of fans to feeling the peace and quiet of his own home always take some time for him to adjust.

His therapist had suggested that he should find something to make him unwind after long hours spent existing under a microscope and flashes of cameras capturing each and every move he makes like a hawk watching its prey.

Everyone but him has formed some routine to unwind. For example, Connor would always want to eat pizza and binge-watch some new Netflix releases, Brian and Meghan were always quick to turn themselves into a pair of bunnies by doing something frisky under the sheets, and you on the other hand, would much rather be soaking long hours under a bathtub full of warm temperature water.

“Think of it as another form of self-care or relaxation technique.”

“You have to say that you’ve done it at least once or twice. Nothing to be ashamed about if you admit that you don’t hate it that much, Mendes,” Connor added.

“Guys, please, I simply don't like the idea of feeling like a boiling asparagus stick.”

“You will not feel like a boiling vegetable.”

“You know, Mrs. I cannot function without baths. I really can't picture myself in a bathtub full of warm water, especially regarding relaxation purposes.”

“Aww, look, someone is turning into Mr. Grumpy,” You said, a sly smile creeping onto your lips, “You know what can help you feel better?”

“Y/n,” he warned, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence by implying that the only thing that can cure me is a bath, I swear to G—.”

“Oh, enough with the weird bullshit reasons, Mendes!” Connor interrupted from the living room, “I’d bet you don’t want to admit to us that you feel scared with the idea of soaking long hours in the warm water, huh?”

You and Connor found yourselves letting out a huge laugh at the thought of him avoiding these baths because he feels scared of the water like a kitten, “I am not a baby,” Was the only thing Shawn said, accompanied by an annoyed eye roll.

“Hear that? Yeah, that’s the voice of somebody who needs nothing more than a relaxing bath to unwind his entire day,” you said in a baby voice, mocking the singer.

“Okay, perhaps I’ll make an exception. If ever I am in a bathtub, it will only be because my girl will be joining me,” He said with a charming smile, secretly loving how the way your face would immediately react to his statements or flirtatious remarks with a fluster written and visible all across your face.

It was as if one, two, or three seconds snapped like the hand of Big Ben or the one at the Grand Central station clock that never comes late, as you always found yourself taking a few short moments to digest each and every word and sentence coming from him and try to reply to something, anything but only for it to come out as a stutter.

“Would you look at that? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new fast-track record. Only one sentence and I have the girl lost for words. I wonder where Mrs. Independent, I need no man exterior you claim to have?” Shawn said, throwing you a wink, playfully swiping his thumb across your cheek, and closing the distance between, getting dangerously close to where you were standing.

“Oh, shut up, Mendes!” You composed yourself and moved his hand away, “You and I both know I would rather do a whole list of other things than get in that tub with you.”

You said your last sentence so sarcastically, casually as such of every other interaction you exchanged together before grabbing your favourite ice cream out of the freezer and heading to your room.

The thing that some, if not most, people still cannot wrap their heads around is the fact that It’s been the definition of years, maybe even ever, since you both fully understood the true meaning of friendships that you and Shawn have been friends.

The best of friends that could go as far as the ability to exchange millions of sarcastic sentences, have never-ending conversations about nothing and everything that ranges from philosophical things to something as far as topics about the actual difference between sex for male compared to females for hours on end if time wasn’t a constraint, secretly craving the company from the other person whenever apart, exchange of daily text messages across multiple social media platforms, then having the once every blue moon bickering like an old married couple over the stupidest stuff according to your close group of friends, and all that with an undeniable sexual tension visible for anyone to question the true nature of your relationship and a huge dash of endless back-and-forth flirtatious acts or words exchanged.

It was apparent to perhaps even the whole world that for the two of you to had the very ability to share a friendship like that, and the miracle for two people to establish this type of bond was rather beautiful and bizarre yet strange at the same time. It came as no surprise that when confronted individually, none of you dared to make any vast gestures that make romantic feelings evoke even more than they already have, as both your heads are imprinted with the belief of the other not feeling the same way, or hate the idea of ruining this friendship over the possibility of one person wanting to confess their true feelings suppressed over the lifelong friendship and establishing something romantically together.

It was then a couple of weeks later when you all found yourselves in the same spot, just coming back from Shawn’s live perfomance over a few cities. But this time, it was all packed into a tight schedule that made the singer and the entire crew exhausted to the bone. It was difficult for Shawn, as it seemed like he was pulled into different directions simultaneously with no time to catch his breath. He hadn’t said a word to anyone since the last show wrapped up, and everyone gave him some much-needed personal space during the flight back. Exhaustion was clinging deep into his body and flooding his mind to the point where he just wanted to shut his brain off and forget about everything; so much that he found himself walking past everyone and heading straight to his room without thinking twice.

You knew how exhausted he must’ve felt, so before you reached his bedroom, you gently grabbed his arm, “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, please,” He said.

“I just wanted to tell you that I am aware that the past couple of days were nothing but a hectic blur, so I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk about anything or just sit silently. I’m always here for you, no matter the time or moment you need me.”

Those were the last few words you said before letting his hand go, once again giving him the space he needed, and you knew that exhaustion had already taken over his body as soon as he lay on the bed and closed his eyes.

You didn’t know that even a few short hours later, he was still tossing and turning under the sheets, unable to shut his eyes or mind off and get some much-needed rest, although his mind and body felt exhausted.

His head turned around and looked at the clock, 23:01 it displayed. For a while, he sat on his bed, checking his phone for updates about anything before exiting the room to distract his mind. The corridor was dark, with only one light source coming from your bedroom door. The singer paced a couple of times outside your door, debating whether he should knock but thinking whether your nocturnal companion was still keeping you awake or had you already fallen asleep, exhaustion taking over before you could gain the energy to turn off the lights.

However, before thinking further, he found his hand knocking on the door. To his surprise, a light knock was enough to open the door, “Y/n? Are you awake?” His voice lowers into a whisper while peeking his head into your room, only for his gaze to fall into an empty bed. You were nowhere to be found until he heard the light sound of your Spotify playlist coming from the bathroom. You were there, and he knew that his next steps were risky or, more accurately, invading your personal space. But part of him didn’t care. Selfishly, he just desperately could really use your company.

And so he took a couple of steps until he was at the bathroom door, with each step he could hear his own heart beating faster and the sounds of the faucet as it hit the bathtub and your favourite singers on the speaker only made him even more nervous, second-guessing his decision.

“Shawn?” You say from behind the cracked door.

“Um, yeah, it’s me. How did you know?” He responded nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as his mind was still second-guessing and debating whether his decision was actually a good idea.

“Who else has a nocturnal side that they cannot kill?” You said, trying to hold back your laughter.

“You know me so well.”

“You can come in if you want, or it’s okay too if you feel more comfortable, we can just keep talking through the door.”

The singer finally decided to interact with you appropriately as he found himself opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. The sight of you greeted him in the tub. The room was illuminated with the soft glow of your favourite candles, the scent of essential oils that were for therapeutic purposes, white puffy bubbles all across the tub of water, and the sound of your favourite playlist.

Tonight was the first time he truly ever took the time to notice it.

“Sorry, I just- well, I know this is- I wanted to - I don’t know who else -” he was stumbling, couldn’t form the proper set of sentences at the mere sight of you. You looked beautiful yet angelic. It was apparent to him that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on, but right now, even as your hair wasn’t done, or any makeup didn’t cover your face, or you weren’t wearing any dresses that perfectly hugged around your body; that he found himself more mesmerised by how your existence was enough to make him feel all sorts of comfort that no therapy sessions, lavish parties or meditation could genuinely give him.

“It’s okay. You know we don’t have to talk,” You say, “Care to join me?”

It felt like gravity was pushing him to decide instead of his brain controlling his movements as he already found himself stripping out of his clothes. Meanwhile, you found yourself with your head facing the wall, feeling sudden shyness at the sight of your opposite-gender friend removing all his clothing from head to toe in front of you.

“You don’t have to look away, you know. I bet it’s not your first time encountering the male anatomy, and I am getting inside the water with you.”

“I know, but this- this isn’t like that,” You said, still choosing to look away, “We are not doing anything to satisfy a pang of hunger. This is something else. I don’t want to ruin this moment by looking into it as if it is something that-“

“Yeah, just something that should be fulfilled at a more appropriate time,” Was all your friend could reply before carefully stepping into the tub, trying to keep his balance. Once he settled up, he scooted closer to your side, not too close to minimise any possible distance, but enough for the two of you to be situated in front of each other.

As he sinks deeper into the lukewarm water, you are glad to see how a deep sigh of relief escapes his lips, with a tired gaze his eyes rolling from all the exhaustion, his body relaxing, shoulders casually leaning into the walls of the tub, and sight of feeling at ease, comfort, and gush of smile was written all across his face.

“Is it the bubbles that finally persuaded you?”

“Perhaps that or maybe the whole idea that I actually feel more relaxed in a way I never thought possible and not feel like an actual boiling vegetable stick is finally winning me over,” he said, and you both laughed at that.

Then, moments later, as the conversations drift to more illogical ones and the laughters died down, you again faced him, “I’m sorry, I can only offer my companion.”

“Are you kidding me?” He smiled, “This is the best thing that anyone has ever done for me all year long.”

More minutes passed by, as none of you seem to remember how long you two lay there. But, when the two of you started to yawn more and more, you decided to get out of the water, “Mendes, face the wall. I need some privacy while I get out of here.”

“You’re telling me you still need privacy? I thought we moved past that. Y/n, we have been naked in here the whole time!” He shook his head and laughed as he turned to the wall, ears perking up to the sounds of water gently splashing as you got out of the tub, and his eyes could not help shoot you a side-eye glance through the mirror.

“Prying eyes,” You said with a smile as your eyes locked through the mirror, wrapping the towel on your body, “You can look now.”

“Pass me one of the towels, too?” he said as he stood up from the tub. Your eyes were wide open at the sight of him standing tall in nothing but his birthday suit. You could hear your heartbeat increasing and butterflies fluttering across your stomach before your hands moved quickly to pass him the towel and turned to face the door, clearly feeling the sudden shyness again at the current situation you found yourself in, “Prying eyes,” Was all he said back, with a signature boyish grin and million dollar smile that you knew was already written all over his lips.

“This was actually fun, we should do it again,” He said, pressing his lips to your temple before hands gathering his clothes and walking out of the room.

What have both of you started?

//

—————��—————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercuppp @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @daisies-and-chai @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesboy @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongformendes @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawnie @camilalewisss @camilalewiss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes-blog @mendeslola-blog @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy @chocochipcookie305 @socio-kai-path1972 @mendesficsxbombay @mendesmylover-blog

Story Code: 160923107

[dangerously-human]

1, 3, 5, 10, 11 for fic writer asks :)

💖💞💙✨

What is your favorite trope to write?

I'm a little at a loss for a proper trope I write frequently, but I do love writing family life after trauma.

What is the main program you use for writing (google docs, the ao3 writing text box, etc.)

Mostly Scrivener, with a dash of the notes app, of course. Scrivener is especially helpful for longer projects: I really like being able to drag and drop whole scenes if I want to, color code by POV character, track status of chapter drafts (vital for the kind of person who always writes out of order), save episode scripts and other research... I'm a fan. Only downside is not being able to access it on my phone, hence the notes app. (Now, if I could only get Google Keep actually syncing on my ancient tablet, so I could leave comments more easily...)

The fic you’re most proud of writing?

I am pretty sure my established answer for the rest of time, or at least this decade, will remain Those Binary Stars. I don't do longfic, I don't do interweaving plots... I really stretched myself for TBS. And all because I looked at the conundrum that is Joan Thursday, in all her complexity and inconsistency, and decided I absolutely had to get in her head. She's still one of the characters I consider mine, dismiss or devalue her over my dead body, you know? It's a softer version of the story, one we knew we could never have because that's the inherent tragedy of prequels, and it's morw hopeful than Morse's life would ever allow... but I think it works nonetheless, and I'm really proud of it.

Best/funniest comment you’ve ever gotten on a fic?

I think we can all say we especially appreciate those comments that notice something in our writing that we didn't consciously realize we were baking in. To that point, everyone who noted the rib imagery Lockwood uses to describe missing Lucy in Take His Hand and tied it to Adam and Eve is my hero, because that was definitely a subconscious association. Also, you and @polithicc both left comments that overlapped and significantly shaped portions of the second chapter; I was rereading Ana's comment earlier and yelped and immediately had to grab my laptop to add a line to a paragraph I've been wrestling with that finally made it fall into place. I've been blessed with quite a few mindblowingly encouraging or insightful or just plain kind comments, especially lately. 💕

Do you prefer writing angst, crack, or fluff?

I love them all and they have their individual merits; can I cheat and say my favorite is to combine all three in a single fic? No? Then I suppose I have to choose fluff, but I will say I've been enjoying finding my way back to writing more humor lately, and would like to aim for more of that. (Another wonderful comment example, @itripandfallalot said recently that I excel at writing humor and should do it more often and that's one of my writing goals for the next year for sure.)

[writingofdungeonbat]

@mytardisisparked said this was open to anyone who wanted to sooooo here I am for Yap Time

1. Why do you write fanfic?

I usually say that my favorite stores and characters are the ones with 'space.' Characters with missing chunks of their backstory or arcs, places for me to run wild. My favorite Star Wars characters are Qui-Gon, Shmi, Hux, and Eli Vanto- characters that I feel like I can really chew on.

Also, it's just fun! I REALLY like when I write something that, when I send it to my friends, results in an 'OW WHAT THE FUCK.' That's like crack.

2. Which of your posted stories do you think about the most, even though the story is “finished”?

Oh gosh, probably my codywan big bang In Our Bedroom After The War! It's not a 'longfic' by most standards, but it was my longest fic, and I think it really started me down the path for Casually Cruel, my magnum opus Thranto omegaverse.

3. If you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

This is a hobby, it doesn't have to be perfect. Good enough is wonderful. Also- stop trying to make yourself write transitions that you like. Just start the next scene lmao.

4. What’s your relationship to fic stats?

I wish desperately I could be an author who throws stuff into the void and never think about it again, but hooooooly shit I am a stats goblin. I've noticed trends and patterns, and keep track of the rankings of my fics for each year.

All this to say, I write for myself and my friends, but I post for community.

5. Is there a pairing or scenario or friendship you miss writing? If so, why? If not, why not?

I want to write more about Luke and trans man Mara Jade! They're so fun to write because they are the definition of 'sunshine and snarling protector' and they are so sweet! Mostly I struggle with them because of the lack of response I usually get when I post fics where they're the main focus. I have a few in the works, though!

6. What motivates you to write?

You know the verse from Breathe-

'2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me Threatening the life it belongs to And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd 'Cause these words are my diary screaming out loud And I know that you'll use them however you want to' ?

That's why I write. I feel like stories are bursting at the seams of me and if I don't let them out I'll die. One of my friends jokes that something will strike me and then stories just fall out.

7. Why do you write for the fandom(s) that you write for?

The Autism Creature, mostly. I write according to my special interests, but I also LOVE how active the Star Wars fandom is, after coming from Assassin's Creed Syndicate. I keep drifting closer to writing for Helluva Boss, but the Part of Me That Cringes won't stop ahh.

8. If you’re stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

Walk away from it for a day or so, then make myself a cocktail, get in my comfy PJs, and see what happens. I also use my friends as rubber ducks!

9. What do you wish people knew about comments?

You will NEVER bother me. I know you're thinking 'oh, except me. I'm annoying.' NO NO NO! I have gotten comments that I think about YEARS later, comments that have made me laugh out loud, and, for a lot of fics, comments that kept me writing the fic/premise in question. If I don't see a positive response, I'm more likely to either not write that thing again, or keep it in my private files (seriously, I have War and Peace levels of writing on my harddrive and google docs and notes app).

So please, if you see something, and want more of it, let us know!!

10. Maybe there’s a question you wish had been on here. What’s that question (and answer)?

When's the next part of Casually Cruel and Balance in All Things coming?

.....soon?? Ish?? The next chapter of Casually Cruel is giving me hell because there's a lot of small things going on that I need to make cohesive. Balance in All Things will be longer, because the Brain Goblins decided that we needed a subplot about Palpatine trying to start a holy war and I have no idea what's going to happen with that.

I don't know who's been tagged before soooo @dirtbag-linecook-kyloren and anyone who wants to!

(also feed my ask box she's very hungry)

[charmmycolour]

Hallo chrammy Colours (sorry if I got your name wrong) i have a question,

I recently got into your fanficana normal life. And because some of the chapters were postet for from another this made me wonder:

How do you keep track of your story? Do you right every chapter out in concept before you start writing? And did it ever happen to you, that you got an idea while writing a chapter, which you really liked and wanted to implement into the story? Would you change future, already planned chapters for it (under the condition it's not a massive plot change).

I was wondering bc your 12th chapter was my favorite one despite being posted later then the others. There's no shift in writing style either so I'm just curious. How do you manage that?

I'm looking forward to an answer.

greetings from Québec's Sweethearts.

I hope you have a great day.

My my this is such an interesting question. Thank you!

About my writing process, I have my own steps system (note this doesn't apply to fics I co-wrote with other authors, where I use a different one, only those I wrote entirely myself). For me writing a fic usually goes like this:

Idea: I have an idea for a concept I find interesting or a scene that would be cool to do. Sometimes these ideas don't tie to anything, they're just small fun scenarios I make up for fun, but if I like them a lot, I will develop them into the next step.

Outline: Now I have a core concept or situation I want to write, so it's time to decide how the rest plays out. I think of a beginning, an ending, and a general line of events that happen in the middle. It's a written draft and not set in stone, but has the general feeling (romance, comedy, angst, etc.)

First Draft: I will start writing whatever scenes I'm more excited to do. I usually work on the first chapter too so it's easier to set the tone later. The big events should be set in the draft, mostly, but can still change if needed; all the small things can wait. If I don't know how to write a part I jump to another.

Second Draft: Now we have a bunch of little stories! It's time to tie them together with the boring parts. It's not as exciting to go over exposition, or have the characters move around, but it's necessary. It's also the step where I make sure everthing is coherent and it's not contradicting other parts of the story.

Usually at this point is when I will clean the first chapter and start posting. I usually haven't finished the fic when the first chapter is up, but roughly half of it if not more will be written or planned. Note the first chapter will first go through step 6 and 7 first.

Final Draft: I rewrite everything correctly, polish the details, cut the filler and in general focus on making the flow dynamic and interesting. At this point it's possible I had a better idea for a future scene and I change it, but once something is published that detail is FINAL and will stay until the end.

Beta: I ask someone (usually my boyfriend) to revise and correct the chapter, fix the grammar and tell me if something is confusing or they have noticed a mistake in the timeline. This is important because I'm NOT English so I make a lot of mistakes lol

When I posted chapter 1 of ANL, up to chapter 9 I think? Were already in first draft at the very least. Some scenes from the ending had been the first I wrote, but as I developed the story and had new ideas, they have been heavily altered from the first idea.

Currently ANL is written to second draft completely, and the only reason I'm not faster uploading is because I'm lazy making the proper rewrites and drawing the illustrations that come with it (sorry!). The ending of the story went through several changes but I think I'm happy with the current one - nonetheless I never discard the idea of implementing changes if needed.

To keep the tone and writing consistent, I read the chapters together with the prior one (from the same character) together to make sure the narration flows the same way. Even if I learned a way to do it better, I try not to make it too different - I think keeping the flow is more important.

Often I will go back and correct things on prior chapters, but only grammar or oddly-written sentences, never events.

I hope this answers all your questions! Please don't hesitate to send more if you have them, and a big big thank you for reading my story! It makes me so very happy.

Have a wonderful day!

[team-ion]

Ok last message for tonight because it's 5 am but I really do think it's funny that my brain latched onto this fic so hard. I grew up with PMD and have loved it since I was 8, but it's Warped Skies in particular that really occupies my mind. I think Warped Skies feels like what PMD taken much further could be, complexity-wise, since even being such a well-written game it has to appeal to 8 year olds before it does near-18 year olds. Autism makes your brain have funny priorities I guess lmao but I'm glad for it.

I do have to wonder, did you ever think you would go so far with this fic? I'm like 80% sure you made an AN at some point around the Scout reveal about your direction with Scout changing because you saw a comment mentioning Meowth is partner-exclusive in Sky, but I might also be insane or dumb because I checked the first 80 chapters, saw nothing, and also spoiled myself about chimecho being Actually evil since I never made it to chapter 80 :(

I think it is absolute madman behavior that you've written over a million words in this fic and you're actively retrospectively rewriting and refining it. I'm happy for it though. I remember there being some plot threads that felt a bit disjointed that feel a lot more cohesive in this version and I'm really enjoying the new but familiar experience of reading it.

I've gotta stop writing essays in your comments section and your askbox goddamn

-codacheetah

Ah no, you got that spoiler? Oof. That’s probably one of the hardest twists of the story, haha. That was fun to see people’s reactions.

Naaah. I could NEVER have imagined how big the story got or how far I’d go with it. I initially imagined just two arcs and some interesting commentary of how knowing the future doesn’t necessarily mean you can benefit from that, especially when you’re knowledge begins to change things.

You are right, though. I did mention that in an authors note SOMEWHERE. First chapter, he was ‘the human’ and went to the Dark Future and all. That review made me think and I had the crazy idea of ‘What if he wasn’t and the human was still there?’ which quickly moved into ‘Okay, he’s still from the Dark Future. Aha! I can use my headcannon that Dusknoir was part of the Planetary Investigation Team here, hahahaha!’ Ideas just slammed into me like boulders.

I wrote a million words! That means I can do it again with ease~ haha, or maybe not ease but I’ve actually had a surprising amount of fun with the rewrite! I hate editing but it hasn’t felt so much like editing and I actually enjoy reading my own writing in some parts, I used to reread Chapter 51 a lot, heh.

I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll ramble again. The story by and large will be the same as the original, but I know there are parts that could be done better and I would think at points as I’d reread or just think about the story how I might do something different. It gives me the chance to do that. Some changes are minor, some are a bit bigger like with the new Chapter 20 but still mostly ultimated the same.

We’ll see if I can keep to the road and not go off track, hah! Always fun to hear from you, you rest well!

[cardansolo]

My Favorite Reylo Fanfics

We all need something to hold us over until December, right? Here are all of my absolute favorite Reylo fics. They’re all amazing - well-written, mostly slow-burn (because I’m a sucker for those), and all T, M, or E rated. I’ll be updating this list as I find more that I love. Happy reading!

*Fic is incomplete.

In the Star Wars universe:

In My Blood Stream by EllieCarina (x)

Rey knows Kylo by now. And she knows Ben and almost everything in between. But when Poe Dameron kisses her, she learns something she hadn't known before. They are bound by the Force and this alone would be difficult enough - with love of all things added to the mix, the universe could as well come apart under the weight of their minds.

(Formerly “I Know,” now a multi-chapter fic.)

Landscape With a Blur of Conquerors by diasterisms (x)

"While I share your contempt for this situation in which we find ourselves, do not mistake it as apathy," he hissed through gritted teeth, dark eyes burning. "I hardly expect your disposition to sweeten, but I will be damned if I allow my future Empress to behave in a manner that reflects poorly on me and on the First Order!"

"If you allow?" She wrenched her arm out of his viselike grasp, batting his hand away for good measure. "I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone."

"That might have been the case back when you were a scavenger on that pitiful scrap heap of a planet, but now?" His sardonic gaze flickered over her silk robes and the jewels woven through her elaborate braids. "Now you are the Chume'da, and the Chume'da belongs to her people. Their fate is entirely in your hands. Should you cross the line, it is they who will suffer for it. Am I making myself clear?"

"I hate you," she said bitterly.

He sneered at her. "See? Already you are acclimatizing so well to married life.”

Tactical Surrender by destinies (x)

“It was foolish of you to come here,” he says. “You won’t escape this time.”

Rey looks at him, at the Stormtroopers, at the combat walkers. She gives the illusion of thinking it over, and then says, “You’re right."

She presents her wrists to him. “I surrender myself to the authority of the First Order.”

--

Three years after the Battle of Crait, Rey, Resistance hero and teacher to a budding new Jedi Order, once again delivers herself into the hands of the enemy. To provide cover for a maneuver that could deal a serious blow to the First Order, she must gamble with the thing she knows its Supreme Leader wants most: herself.

In The Gathering Dark by grecianviolets (x)

Post-TLJ. In the aftermath, from the chaos and the carnage, rises a new vision for the galaxy.

You’ll Be the One to Turn by postedbygaslight (x)

Several months have passed since the Battle of Crait, and Rey of Jakku and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren have continued to haunt each other, appearing at random to each other throughout their days and nights. But the connection is unstable, and longing and loneliness start to overwhelm other concerns.

Jedi Academy AU:

Like Young Gods by diasterisms (x)

“What do you think?” Luke asks his nephew. “She has potential.”

“She bit me, Master,” is Ben’s stiff response. “Any opinion I give would be biased.”

Or: Everyone is connected, even if, sometimes, it's just by the skin of our teeth. Even in the midst of darkness, still, luminous beings are we.

To Kingdom Come by diasterisms (x)

[Sequel to Like Young Gods]

"I remember everything!" he snarls, loud enough to make her flinch. "How you move— the way you breathe—" His words hitch on a strangled half-sob; he stares at her like a man caught in a waking dream as he skims the line of her jaw with his knuckles, stopping to touch the pad of his thumb to her bottom lip. "How your eyes met mine in the starlight," he continues through a broken, haunted rasp of a voice, "and I felt like the look on your face."

Or: What is alive must heal. What cannot heal must endure.

*In My Ten Years by brittlelimbs (x)

There's a piece of Jedi mythology, passed down from ancient times, that tells of a peculiarly nasty phenomenon: one singular, intact soul split in two by the Force. It's a story of a schism in the stars, a constellation cracked in half, a lifetime spent scouring the Universe in search of that elusive whole.

But the Force is cruel and kind in turns; it gave Ben only one piece of his soul, but left the other, swaddled, at his feet.

AKA [the author’s] take on the "Ben and Rey grow up together!" trope with a soulmate/soulbond twist. Pretty much pure teeth-rotting fluff, lots of Ben being a lil mother hen etc. before they grow into a romantic relationship. Luke POV.

Modern AU:

A Proposal By Any Other Name by Lucidlucy (x)

Rey and Finn have been A Thing for a long time now. Since she was eighteen, to be exact. When Finn leaves on a trip to Europe for six months for work, Rey finally chases after him to Dublin to do what he seems to be putting off: propose.

She wants a family, after all.

The universe has different ideas. Her flights are delayed, storms hit, she loses her tickets and everything seems to be going horribly. To top it off, she ends up stranded around a rather irritating man by the name of Kylo Ren. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

-----

A Leap Year AU.

Unexpected by pontmercy44 (x)

What to expect when you're expecting the child of an rich, womanizing, alcoholic, unredeemable asshole? And what to do when the unexpected, improbable, irrational happens?

Play to Win by Enterprisingly (x)

Ben Solo – aka KyloRen – is a professional gamer, playing the first-person-shooter StarKiller for the internationally ranked eSports team, The First Order. He’s made a name for himself as a ruthless competitor with a ferocious temper and top-notch skills that can’t be beat. That is, until a mystery player named ReyOfLight begins thoroughly trouncing him whenever they cross paths.

What follows is the unlikely story of a rivalry that turns into a friendship that turns into… something else entirely. All while the eSports community watches with bated breath and popcorn in hand.

Ghostwalks (Gin and Fog) by diasterisms (x)

[Actors AU]

"I don't like your manners," she sniffed.

"And I'm not crazy about yours," he retorted.

(So they were apparently Bogie and Bacall now, and maybe she could blame the alcohol in the morning, like all the good girls did.)

A Royal Mistake by reyofdarkness (mitslits) (x)

Ben Solo (aka The Playboy Prince): Prince of Alderaan and tabloid sensation, never seen with the same girl twice.

Rey: Mechanic, blissfully unaware of Ben Solo's very existence.

Until Paige recruits her for a night servicing the Met Gala, host to a diverse class of guests, including royalty. It is there that a chance encounter gets Rey caught up in a pair of pretty eyes and a charming personality that she knows she should stay far, far away from. The universe, however, seems to have other plans.

Doing the Unstuck by slipgoingunder (x)

A rom com inspired by When Harry Met Sally. (No, you do not need to have seen the movie to read this.) Modernized, gender swapped, angsty and funny.

Rey is Harry. Ben is Sally.

--

In 2010, Rey and Ben share a contentious car ride from Chicago to New York, during which they argue about everything. Including sex.

Four years and another chance meeting later, both their lives have taken unexpected twists. And they're still arguing about sex.

In 2018, Rey and Ben meet for a third time, each at a crossroads in their lives. They continue to argue, but in a nice way. So nice, in fact, that they become good friends. Complicated friends. Complicated friends who definitely do not want to have sex.

Olive and an Arrow by sadboykylo (x)

Rey might be in love with Ben Solo. If only he wasn't her cautious bodyguard, and she wasn't the president's daughter.

A/B/O:

Suits and Stilettos by Aimz777 (x)

Ben Solo, protégé to James Snoke at the prestigious Kenobi-Snoke-Organa law firm, is tasked with employing a male Alpha Associate from one of the Trinity law schools. Why then, he hires Rey Jensen – a female Omega from Jakku Law with a photographic memory and a stubborn streak to rival any Alpha – is anyone’s guess.

Luckily no one knows she's an Omega except him.

Unfortunately for Ben, her intoxicating scent is messing with his head and he is increasingly growing to resent the fact that he isn’t like every other person on the planet that simply can’t smell her.

–The A/B/O modern day lawyers fic kind of (but not really) based off the show Suits

Your Pretty Little Heart by Ever-so-reylo (x)

“Good. Good little Omega.” He says the words against her gland, almost sweetly, and Rey—Rey is going to die. A wonderful, delicious death. Depraved, all of this. Filthy. Beautiful.

Modern day AU in which Ben is an Alpha, Rey is an Omega, and they are way better at having sex than at communicating with each other.

[mackenzielovee]

heyy! can you do an angsty one where rafe and the reader are “friends,” for a long time, they’ve been in the same friend group and she’s been with love with him for a while now, and he knows and uses that for his advantage. she always does stuff for him, help him whenever he needed and more, and he treats her pretty badly/rudely in return. their friends (top n kelce,) always try to tell him to stop and more and finally she’s had enough she confronts him and show how much he was actually draining her, and he acts like he doesn’t care but he does realize what he was doing, but meanwhile he’s reflecting on his actions, y/n is getting closer to jj? thanks lol the end is up to you. love u and ur fics <3

a/n: hi love! im so sorry it took me so long to write this. I hope you love it!! it took me forever to finish hahaha but i loved writing it!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

my writing

pretty damn lucky - rafe cameron

You sigh as you pull Rafe's fresh sheets from the dryer, breathing in the scent of the detergent mixed with the scent of him. He and the boys had way too much to drink last night, which resulted in Rafe getting sick all over his bed when they got home. You had stripped his sheets immediately and put them in the wash, then made a makeshift bed for Rafe on the floor with all of his blankets.

He had grunted at you in return for all your work, collapsing down on the floor and passing out before you could even say goodnight to him.

You had washed the sheets once again this morning when you woke up, then stuck them in the dryer and waited on them.

Topper groans on the couch as you pass him on your way to Rafe's room. You stop and chuckle, watching as he hesitantly opens his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Topper grumbles as he sits up, clutching his head.

"I think you guys brought the bar home with you."

He glances up, eyes meeting yours, and groans. You laugh and step over to him, taking a seat on the couch beside him.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask him.

"Yeah, a time machine. Don't let me drink so much," he whines, collapsing back down on the couch. You stand, letting out a laugh.

"Water and aspirin. Got it."

You walk up the stairs and stop in front of Rafe's bedroom door, knocking on it lightly before you peak your head in. He's still laying on the floor, but you can't tell if he's awake or not. You stop inside, warm sheets in hand, and close the door behind you. He grunts at the noise, but it's not enough to make him open his eyes.

"Hey," you say to him, "I washed your sheets. How are you feeling?"

Rafe moves on the floor, opening his eyes only enough to see you, then rolls back to his initial spot and closes his eyes again.

"Just put the sheets back on, I want my bed."

You sigh and nod your head, stepping over to his bed to start making it. You watch him as you work, laying on the floor, mouth parted slightly and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to focus on not throwing up again.

"Okay," you whisper once his bed is made, "Come on. I'll help you."

Rafe allows you to wrap your arms around his torso, helping him stand from off the floor. He leans all his weight on you as you two stumble over to his bed, then he collapses onto it. You cover him with his comforter and then fix his hair so it's not sitting in his eyes anymore. He doesn't say anything at your movements.

"I'll get you some water and some medicine. Be back in a minute," you whisper to him. He just nods as best he can.

You hurry back down the stairs, rushing past Topper and into the kitchen. You grab two water bottles out of the fridge and then rifle through the cabinets until you find a bottle of aspirin. As you walk from the kitchen to Topper on the couch, you stop in your tracks.

"Topper," you say, your voice authoritative, "Where is Kelce?"

Topper laughs, which is how you know it's bad. You hadn't noticed that they were one friend light when they stumbled in last night, mostly because you had been too worried about Rafe to be concerned with where Topper and Kelce crashed.

"He fell down outside last night. I'm pretty sure we just left him there."

You sigh loudly, handing him a bottle of water and aspirin as you swear and rush to the front door. As you approach, you can already see him, face up in the Cameron's new flower bed that Rose had worked so hard to make perfect. You open the door and rush to Kelce, annoyed with the boys for not even telling you he was out here.

"Kelce?" you question, stirring him awake, "You alive in there?"

Kelce sits up, as if you'd awakened him from a dream, and glances around. He looks at you and then down to the clothes he's in, and you watch as his eyes widen.

"Those motherfuckers did not leave me out here," he gasps.

"Kelce, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were out here-"

"I'm going to kill them - ow."

He tries to stand up, but the throbbing of his head makes him fall back down into the dirt again. You grab onto his arm and try to help him up, noting how you do most of the work. When he's finally upright, you brush off the dirt from his back and then lead him inside.

"Shit," he mutters, "My stomach. I'm gonna need to eat."

"I'm on it," you tell him, leading him into the living room and placing him on the couch next to Topper.

"Hey, man," Topper greets, "Rose sure will be happy you observed the flowers so...closely."

"Shut the fuck up, Top," Kelce snaps, reaching over and punching Topper in the chest. He groans at his head and sits back again, making you laugh.

"All right," you declare, picking up the aspirin and water bottle for Rafe, "Eggs? Toast? Bacon? Sound good?"

Kelce nods his head and Topper looks at you, already looking better with the water and medicine in his system.

"Hey, thank you, Y/N. For always taking care of us," Topper smiles at you.

"Yeah," Kelce agrees, "I'd still be lying in a bush outside if it weren't for you. Thank you."

You smile at them and shake your head, "Of course, boys. Back in a minute. Kelce, don't kill Top. Please."

Kelce grunts, telling you he's still debating if he will or not. You laugh and then rush back up the stairs, hoping Rafe is still alive up there. You knock softly on his door when you reach it, not wanting to just bust in on him.

"Rafe?" you say when you walk in, seeing him laying in the exact same position he had been when you left him.

"What took you so long?" he grumbles.

"I'm sorry," you say, sitting down beside him on his bed, "You guys left Kelce outside and-"

"Do you have the aspirin or what?"

You sigh and nod, handing him the pill bottle and a bottle of water. He sits up, hair messy and eyes only half open, and pours three pills into his hand. You stare at him, observing his sharp jaw line and his soft skin, and you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be able to feel him. Touch him. Love on him the way you've been dreaming about since the day you met him.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Rafe swallows the pills, then brings his eyes up to meet yours, "That breakfast place I love. Why don't you go pick us all up something? Card's in my wallet."

He lays back down, which is his way of excusing you from the room. You just nod your head and grab his card out of his wallet.

"And move the seat back in my truck when you get back. I always hit my head when I get in after you."

"All right," you say quietly, wishing he'd at least say a 'please' or 'thank you'.

You take orders from Topper and Kelce, then hurry out to Rafe's truck. You have to move the seat way up in order to drive the truck, and you make a mental note to move it back when you get back to the house.

You pull up to the restaurant and climb out of the truck, fumbling with the keys and your purse and Rafe's card, too wrapped up in yourself to notice the blonde boy standing about five feet from you.

"Damn, I didn't expect someone as pretty as you to hop out of that truck," JJ smirks at you, watching your eyes shoot up to him.

You smile, "Hi, JJ."

"How are you?" he asks, cheeky look on his face.

You set your hands on your hips, keys and card tucked between your fingers, as you observe what you're wearing for the first time. You'd snuck one of Rafe's Kildare Island shirts from his dresser last night and had on jean shorts underneath.

"Y'know," you shrug, "You like this place, too?"

"Ah, little pretentious, but the food's acceptable," he teases, "You eating alone?"

"No. Just picking up food for Rafe and his friends."

"What, are you his assistant or something? Tell Cameron to pick up his own food," JJ huffs.

He'd never tell you, not wanting to upset you, but he's hated watching you run around the island as Rafe's bitch since you met him. JJ's been dying to hang out with you, even asked you a few times, but you always say no because you're on some sort of mission for Rafe.

"It's just a breakfast order," you reply, starting to inch toward the restaurant.

"Just a breakfast order," he shrugs, "Just getting him a beer every time he asks, just following him around like a lost puppy, just-"

"Okay," you stop him, "I'm a big girl, JJ. I can take care of myself."

You turn and start to walk away from him, trying to brush off his 'lost puppy' remark. He groans loudly, which is enough to earn your attention back.

"Prove it," he yells out, making you turn, "Tonight. There's a thing down at the beach. Meet me."

You start to shake your head, but he steps toward you and stops you. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, messing it up even more than it already is.

"JJ-"

"Come on, Y/N. Take the Kook chains off for one night. Please. Rafe can do his own dishes and get his own drinks."

You sigh, glancing down at your feet before back up to him, "Maybe."

"Ah- you know what? That's better than a no. I'll take it."

You nod at him, trying your best not to smile too wide, then point to the building. You start to back off, but you keep your eyes fixed on the blonde boy.

"What time? You know, if I decide to come."

JJ smiles wider than he had the entire conversation, "Seven."

You smile back at him, then turn and walk away before you can get even more wrapped up in this boy.

"What the hell took you so long?" Rafe questions as you walk through the door with several bags filled with food.

"Sorry," you sigh at him, "Got caught up."

Kelce and Topper stand up and step to you, taking the bags from you. You thank them quietly, watching as Rafe rolls his eyes and stands from his place on the couch.

"Yeah, never mind the fact that I'm starving to death," he mutters.

"Rafe, come on, man," Topper smacks Rafe on the chest, trying to get him to chill out.

"Yeah, quit being a dick," Kelce tells him.

Topper starts to unload the food from the bags while Kelce leans down and gives you a friendly kiss on the cheek. You smile gently, glancing up to see Rafe watching with his jaw clenched. You try to put distance in between you, but Rafe doesn't seem to care about your efforts.

"Thanks for running to get it, Y/N," Topper smiles to you.

"You're welcome."

"Did you put my seat back, at least?" Rafe asks you, swiping his car keys from the counter where you set them.

"Yes, of course," you reply.

"Of course," he mutters, "You never do."

"Rafe," Kelce says authoritatively, holding his hands out to his sides as if to ask what the hell he's doing.

"I'll fix you a plate," you tell Rafe, setting a hand on Kelce's arm as if to thank him.

Rafe exhales loudly, then steps away and back into the living room. Kelce rolls his eyes at Rafe, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You make Rafe a plate, a little bit of everything, then follow Topper into the living room to take it to him.

"Quit being an asshole to her, man," Topper mumbles to Rafe, slapping him on the back of his head.

"Don't fucking hit me," Rafe growls at Topper.

"Here you go," you hand Rafe a plate. He takes it from you without a word or a glance, inspecting the food you've given him.

"Where's your plate, love?" Topper asks you as Kelce sits down beside him, "I'll make you one. Sit down."

"No," you say quickly, earning the attention of all three boys, "I'm not staying. I gotta get home, I kinda have plans later,"

"What plans?" Rafe asks, judgment present in his voice.

The boys watch the look on your face and Topper and Kelce immediately erupt into fits of laughs and hollers.

"Boy plans, huh?" Kelce smiles at you before he shoves bacon into his mouth.

Your face flushes as you stand in front of them, glancing at Rafe to see his reaction. His jaw is clenched tightly and he's stopping eating all together.

"Who's the lucky guy, Y/N?" Topper snickers.

"It's not a big deal, you guys."

"Why am I jealous right now?" Kelce teases you. You look over at him and roll your eyes, hiding your smile from him.

"What plans?" Rafe repeats himself, raising his voice. Your eyes shoot over to him, watching his expression.

"Um, I'm going down to this thing at the beach," you say, looking down at the floor. Rafe sets his plate down on the coffee table in front of him, not wanting his food anymore.

"Are we invited?" Rafe asks, already knowing the answer. He just wants to make you say it.

"I- it's not my thing," you stutter, "I'm just meeting some people."

"Who?" Topper asks through his food.

"Uh, JJ Maybank and his friends-"

Rafe scoffs, interrupting you, "You're ditching us to hang out with Pogues?"

"I'm not ditching you, Rafe," you frown.

"Funny, that's the way it looks."

"It's just a few drinks on the beach, why are you getting so bent out of shape?" you question, watching as Topper and Kelce squirm, growing more uncomfortable.

"Bent out of shape? " he repeats, voice as if he doesn't believe you just said that, "You're the one driving across the island for shitty ass beer-"

"It's not like I was asking your opinion on my plans-"

"No, no, you were just informing us that you have plans to fuck JJ Maybank, understood."

"Rafe-" you start, but stop when Kelce sits up straight in his chair and speaks.

"What the fuck, Rafe?" Kelce stares at his best friend, "Why are you so mean to Y/N all the time? She doesn't have to hang out with us every day, and honestly, I wouldn't if you treated me the way you treat her."

"Oh, fuck off, Kelce, you don't know shit," Rafe waves him off.

Topper glances at you, then over to Rafe and speaks up as well, "He's right, Rafe. You're an asshole to her. And not just today, but a lot lately."

Rafe sits back on the couch and crosses his arms in front of his chest, rolling his eyes.

"You two don't know anything," he huffs, "Y/N and I are fine."

"Actually," you say, earning Rafe's complete attention, "I don't think we are."

He stands up now, stepping over to you and grabbing onto your wrist, "Let's discuss this in private."

You glance at the boys, trying to offer them a silent 'thank you for trying', then allow Rafe to pull you into the guest room down the hall. He slams the door once you two are inside, then runs his hand through his hair before he speaks.

"What the fuck are you doing, embarrassing me in front of the two of them?" he scoffs.

Your mouth falls open at how that is his main concern after you just told him you have doubts that the two of you are okay. Your heart sinks, watching as he paces the room. You watch the way his jaw is clenched and how his eyes are frantic as he tries to figure out how to fix things with the boys.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly.

Rafe seems to not hear you, "Jesus, now the two of them are gonna be up my ass about you for the rest of the day."

"Rafe-"

"And what the hell is up with you partying with JJ Maybank? Do you not realize how that could look, you hanging out with him?"

"Oh, my God!" you yell, not being able to take any more of his bullshit, "I don't give a shit, Rafe! I mean, seriously. I spent my entire night last night and my entire morning taking care of your ass. Because I care about you. And now, I say I want to do something for myself, and you act like I'm being selfish? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, please," Rafe shakes his head, "You're always taking care of us, don't act like you're all noble."

"I'm not trying to be noble. I'm trying to tell you how I feel-"

"Well, I didn't fucking ask, all right?" he yells.

You frown and step back from him as if his words struck you across the face. He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying his best to control his frustration.

"Rafe," you choke out, feeling your emotions as they rise up, "I care about you so much. But, I can't keep walking on eggshells around you. I have done everything you've asked me to do, I've been a good friend to you and I-"

"You what?" he growls at you, stepping forward and grabbing your shoulders.

"I love you, you asshole," you whisper, watching the way his eyes soften at your words, "I love you. But I'm drained. I'm exhausted. And I'm sick of being treated like some bitch who just follows you around and hopes you'll throw her a bone."

Rafe stares at you for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, you genuinely cannot tell what he's thinking. After a few seconds, he releases your shoulders and lightly shoves you away from him.

"You should leave," he says, staring at the floor.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you gotta get ready for your big date night, right?"

You laugh sarcastically at his comment, feeling stupid to have expected him to say anything different than that. He sets his hands on his hips and sighs, not bothering to look up at you. You lick your lips and take a deep breath, debating whether or not to stay and fight with him. For him.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you say.

His shoulders fall but he doesn't look up, so you turn and walk out of the room. Topper and Kelce are standing right outside the door, shocked when you suddenly emerge. You roll your eyes at them, not surprised they had been listening. They don't bother trying to stop you, because honestly, they'd leave Rafe, too.

You rush out of the house and slam the door behind you. Topper usually drives you home, but you don't bother to go back inside and ask. You can walk, it's not far.

As much as you love Rafe, as much as you'd kill to be with him, you can't condone the way he's been treating you. You know that you deserve better, just as Topper and Kelce have been reminding him. Better is exactly what you plan to have.

The beach isn't terribly busy when you arrive. You know by the time the sun sets completely, it will be packed. You spot JJ's blonde hair towering above almost everyone on the beach, watching as he laughs with his friends and tips a red cup against his lips. You walk over to him before allowing yourself to hesitate and think about leaving again.

Your fight with Rafe had completely drained your energy, and if you didn't feel like getting completely drunk to forget about it, you'd leave. JJ spies you as you approach and grins widely, starting over to you.

"No fucking way," he smiles, "Can't believe you showed, Mrs. Cameron!"

"Ha ha," you grumble, shaking your head and trying to hide a smile.

"How'd you escape from the prison that is Kook land?"

You roll your eyes, reaching up and taking the cup from his hand. You gulp it down before he can even object, and when you look up at him again, he's staring at you with his mouth wide open.

"Okay. Got it. Drinking, no talking," he reaches down and takes your hand, leading you over to the keg.

"Lots of drinking," you mutter, watching as JJ pretends he didn't hear you.

JJ grabs two beers from the guy handing them out and hands one to you, returning his hand to yours. You start to walk back over to JJ's friends, but he pulls on your hand to keep you where he wants you.

"What are you doing? Don't you want to hang out with your friends?" you ask him.

He shakes his head, "No, I'd rather figure out what's going on with you."

You sigh and take another long sip of your beer, avoiding his eyes on purpose. Although you and JJ hadn't hung out a lot, he still seems to be able to tell that you're bothered.

"It's not a big deal," you say.

"If it's bothering you, it is," JJ insists. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, and you can't help but notice how he hasn't taken one sip of his beer.

"JJ-"

"It's Rafe, I can tell. Did he hurt you?"

"No," you furrow your eyebrows, unsure of why he would even ask that. JJ just nods his head, tightening his grip around your hand.

"All right, then what?"

You give him a small smile, grateful that he's pushing so hard to try and figure out what's bothering you. You've never really had anyone do that before.

"We just got into an argument. But, it's fine-"

"Y/N-"

"I came here to have fun with you. Please don't make me spend the whole night talking about Rafe."

His eyes soften as he stares down at you. You watch as he takes a deep breath, then licks his lips and nods his head. You give him a small smile, watching as he shamelessly return it.

"You're right," he speaks after a minute, "Who needs that asshole, anyway?"

You nod, although you're hesitant to talk shit about Rafe like that, even after everything. JJ squeezes your hand once again, then tugs you toward his friends.

"Come on, let's party."

JJ pumps you full of beers, at your request, and laughs every time you attempt to get him to dance with you. His friends all watch as JJ finally gives into you, standing up as you tug on his hand and allowing you to lead him upright.

You can feel the alcohol rushing through your body as JJ spins you around in the sand, laughing at how much you're loving it. His friends cheer the two of you on, and by the time the song ends, you're completely exhausted. You collapse into JJ's chest and he wraps a strong arm around you, holding you up.

"I didn't realize I'd had so much," you tell him, slurring your words a bit against his chest.

"That's all right," he laughs lightly, "I'll take care of you."

JJ leads you back over to the log the two of you had been sitting on and helps you sit down, smiling when you lean your head down on his shoulder.

"You're nice to me," you tell him.

JJ laughs at your drunken state, pressing his cup to his lips once more. Say what you will about JJ Maybank, but never call him a lightweight.

"You deserve to be treated nicely," he fires back.

"You really believe that?" you ask him, not noticing your eyes fluttering closed against him.

"Of course, Y/N," he whispers, moving his face so his lips graze against the top of your head, "You know, there's a lot more out there than just Rafe Cameron."

"You don't know him like I do," you say quietly.

"You're right," he scoffs, "Nobody else would defend him."

"I'm serious, JJ. He's sweet and caring and protective-"

"And rude, and unkind-"

"JJ," you sigh, "I mean it. Underneath all the bullshit, he's a really great guy."

JJ's silent for a second, then you feel his body tense slightly under you. His friends are all in their own little world, to notice, but JJ isn't.

"Well, that really great guy just showed up to the party."

Your eyes shoot open and your head comes off of JJ's chest as you glance around, trying to steady your vision as you look around to see what he's talking about. When your eyes meet Rafe's, he looks upset. He's watching you and JJ like the thought of you two together actually, physically breaks his heart in half.

Topper and Kelce stand behind him, pushing Rafe forward to you. You stand up, with the help of JJ's hand steadying you, which you immediately let go of when you stand up straight. You tears your eyes away from Rafe long enough to glance back at JJ, asking him silently if it's okay if you go to him.

"Go on," he gives you a sad smile, "Tonight was fun. But, you know, I'm not the type of guy to chase after some other guy's girl."

"JJ-"

"Go, Y/N. You love him. I can tell."

You start to object, but close your mouth when you realize you have no defense. He's right, you know he is. You give JJ a little smile, then turn back to Rafe. The asshole, your asshole, who looks ready to put your heart back together again.

He starts to you and you to him, but he covers way more ground than you given that he's stone cold sober. He can tell you're having trouble standing, so he reaches out and offers his arm as soon as he's within range.

"Hey," he says quietly.

You wrap your cold hands around his arm, steadying yourself and absorbing his warmth. You take a deep breath, inhaling his familiar, heart wrenching scent and letting it fill your lungs.

"What are you doing here?" you question him.

"I- uh, I need to talk to you."

"Why? So you can yell at me and then tell me to leave again?" you spit before you can even think about it.

Rafe clenches his jaw and moves his eyes from yours, glancing around the beach as he considers what the best thing to say is in response.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

"It's fine," he shakes his head, speaking too fast to actually mean it, "I deserve it. I was an asshole. I came here to apologize."

You nod your head, doing your best to keep your eyes on his and not trailing all down his body. He's wearing the snapback you love on him, and he has on the shirt the two of you bought together at the mall on a trip.

"You may," you tease him, giving him a small smile and hoping to get one in return. You get it, thankfully.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to ever make you feel second rate. You have been so good to me and I know I don't deserve it-"

"It's okay," you stop him, reaching one hand up to stroke his cheek. His skin, his soft skin under yours feels like heaven to touch. You know the alcohol is the only reason you're not putting up a larger fight.

"I wasn't finished," he smiles widely.

"Well, what can I say? I'm a sucker for that hat," you tease.

His grin only widens as he stares down at you, pulling you into a hug before he can even think of it. His arms wrapped tightly around you make your heart rate speed up to a dangerous level.

"You promise we're okay? Maybe we should talk again when you're sobered up-"

"I'm fine," you lie.

Rafe reaches up and cups your face in his hands, staring down at you intently. You stare back, unable to break away from his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Good, because I've got something to tell you."

Rafe watches as your lips part, wanting to question him but unable to find the right words. He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before he continues.

"I love you, too," he whispers.

You blink rapidly at him, trying to figure out if he really just said those words to you. You shake your head and squirm out of his grasp, taking a deep breath as you look at him.

"You mean that?" you ask him.

"Yeah," he nods, swallowing nervously, "It took me half the day to realize it, but the thought of you down here with JJ literally made me want to kill him. And I'm sorry that I haven't realized it sooner. I was just scared of my feelings, I guess, and I just thought if I pushed you away-"

"You don't have to explain," you stop him, "I just can't believe you feel the same way about me."

"Who wouldn't? Topper informed me today that I happen to be the luckiest guy to walk the face of the earth because I'm loved by you. And I guess, I don't know, it made me recognize my feelings."

You smile, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him. He hugs you back without thinking twice, pulling you close and breathing you in. After a second, you pull away, and feel him tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I don't know, I'm feeling pretty damn lucky right now," you whisper.

Before either of you know it, he places his lips gently on yours. His hands move themselves to your cheeks once again, pulling you closer to him. You both can hear Topper and Kelce hooting and hollering from yards away, which makes you laugh against Rafe's lips.

"I regret bringing them," he says against your lips, laughing along with you.

"You should," you agree, standing on your tip-toes and kissing him one more time.

"Can I take you home, now? Please?" he asks, voice impatient.

You bite your lip and nod, allowing him to give you one last kiss before he brings a hand down to yours, wrapping his fingers through it. He turns you toward the boys, the oh-so happy boys, and leads you away.

Away from the beer. Away from JJ. Toward your future, together.

Tags: @hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, I'm not sure if this is allowed but I was wondering what your tips are for keeping fics organised in your Ao3 bookmarks or any other systems you use to keep track of what must be thousands of titles in your collection. I'm constantly amazed by just how many requests you're able to answer, no matter hos specific. Please teach me your librarian ways. Thank you!

Hello! The trick for me is threefold. A shit tonne of my own bookmarks, an affinity with the ao3 tagging and filtering systems, and a good memory.

First of all, I bookmark every fic I read, regardless of how much I enjoyed it personally or if I’ll want to re-read it again. You can bet if I don’t bookmark it it’ll be the perfect fic for an ask or it’s the fic someone has lost, and then I won’t be able to find it.

I do have a tagging system for my bookmarks but it’s a little messy.

I tag things in basic ways and for common requests, to be able to easily narrow down the kind of fics I’m after. For example some of my basic tags are “human au” “love confession” “memory loss” “outsider pov” “asexual” “insecure aziraphale” “lovely crowley” “sweet” “silly” and et cetera. I will use these tags whether the fic is tagged similarly or not, because some authors tag more thoroughly than others and I know my own tagging is consistent.

I also do a lot of freeform tagging, mostly to more easily remind myself of the fic. Examples of these would be “ways to let crowley care for aziraphale” “aziraphale burps in crowley’s face and it is magnificent” “crowley draws aziraphale like one of his french girls” “aziraphale just dump gabe already ffs” “all the pronouns for crowley” “that one bit that made me sob like a baby” “also there are dogs”. These I have a lot of fun with, but they’re actually super helpful.

Importantly, I keep all my bookmarks private so I don’t have to inflict any of this on the authors, and to ensure I don’t have to be too careful what I’m tagging. My tags are for fic-finding purposes and it’s much easier if I’m not trying to be conscious of how an author would feel about what nonsense I’m using to remember their story.

If I was starting again from scratch I would add word count tags, because ao3 doesn’t currently have a way to filter by word count within your own bookmarks, only on searches. But we don’t get requests for specific lengths of fic too often, so it hasn’t been a bother (yet).

If it sounds chaotic, that’s because it is. But it works for me. I hope this was at least... interesting? ...for you!

- Mod D

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

You’re The Reason | Eric Matthews

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: My first Boy Meets World fic! Gah! I hope you like this! Couldn’t stay away from the JATP boys though, so it’s kinda like a JATP x BMW crossover... Lemme know what you think! 

Pairing: Eric x Fem!Reader

Song(s) used: none

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, party

Words: 4,028

Eric Matthews. The goofy, charming oldest boy of Alan and Amy. My best friend since forever. Our parents always told us the story about how we met in the sandbox in Kindergarten. I was building sandcastles when Jason, Eric’s first best friend, came to ruin them. Eric, being the charmer he always had been, told Jason off and pushed him out of the sandbox before helping me rebuild my sand castle. Ever since that day, the two of us had been the best of friends. 

We did everything together. Everything from play dates to eating ice cream to going to middle school and eventually high school. Though we never graduated together as my parents had to move when I was 16. We moved to Los Angeles and never returned to Philadelphia. Eric and I were so torn. We had promised we would keep in contact and the first few months were hard, but we eventually found a rhythm in our long-distance friendship. 

Every evening, we would call each other except for the weekends as those were date-weekends where both of us went out on dates. But come Sunday evening, we’d both be on the phone, telling the other what had happened during said dates. 

During summer vacation, Eric would come to L.A. to visit me or I’d go back to Philly, just so we could hang out together for a few days. Those had always been my favorite days. We’d reconnect and find that spark again we always used to have, which, in its turn, brought us closer and made the next few months a little less hard when all we could hear was each other’s voice. 

Last summer, however, I realized that I’d rather kiss those beautiful pink lips than stare at them as he talked about yet another girl he took out over the weekend and made out with. It stung, to say the least, but I couldn’t tell him how I felt. We were miles apart from one another, it would just hurt more. 

Though what hurt even worse was when Eric called me one time in the middle of the night, crying. Confused and worried, I listened to him as he let everything he was feeling out of his system. 

“Mister Feeny is retiring, Cory’s going to college and eloped with Topanga tonight and I just– everything’s changing and I don’t know what to do about it. I wanna stop time and just go back to the way things were. All of us in high school, Cory and Topanga fighting over God-knows-what or Shawn and Cory getting into even more trouble. And you… Not miles away from me…” 

I choked back tears as I listened to him. He sounded so broken, so lost. I wished I could just hold him and let him cry as he spoke about how he felt. I wished I was in Philadelphia instead of Los Feliz, a place I didn’t quite belong. 

“I’m sorry, Eric, I wish I could make things better for you…” I said, my voice just above a whisper, afraid I would cry if I spoke any louder. 

Eric sighed on the other side of the line. “Why don’t you just– come home? Study at Pennbrook with me?” I stuttered and stumbled over my words, unsure what to say to him. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it. I’m an adult, I could change my whole life around and move back to Philadelphia. Back to Eric. But while that sounded all beautiful and wonderful and like a dream come true, I couldn’t just drop everything here. I had my new friends, a college degree I needed to finish. 

“Come on, babe. You know you want to…” Eric pleaded, knowing all-too-well what was going on in my mind right now even though he couldn’t see me. “I know I want you to.” 

I heaved in a deep breath. “I can’t, Eric… I gotta finish my degree here. I gotta–” Just as I wanted to continue summing up reasons as to why I wouldn’t be able to go back to him, four guys I knew like the back of my hand entered my dorm and jumped onto my bed. I didn’t even need to see who it was to know who it was. “Guys– I’m on the phone here,” I scolded them as the floppy-haired guy gave me his best smoulder. “Lukas, no.” 

“It’s alright, y/n,” I heard Eric say, though I could tell it wasn’t actually okay. “You go back to your friends. You stay put. Okay? Whatever makes you happiest.” 

“But you make me h–” Before I could even finish my sentence, Eric had hung up the phone. “Happiest…” I mumbled before placing the horn back on the receiver. 

“You okay?” the  blonde guy I knew best as Alex Mercer asked me solemnly. 

I pressed my lips together. “No– not really…” 

Luke wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled into my neck while Reggie sat on the end of my bed with his legs crossed. “I think you ought to go visit him,” he said. 

“What?”

“No, seriously. You miss him, he misses you and you clearly need each other right now. Go back to Philly, y/n. Even if it’s just for the weekend.” For once, Reggie actually spoke some sense. 

“Yeah, I mean, you clearly miss each other and you need each other right now. And maybe, whilst you’re there, you can figure out whether you’d wanna move back to Philly or come back to us,” Alex added. 

I had met Luke, Reggie, Alex and Bobby during orientation day, along with Rose, my roommate. There hadn’t been a day where we didn’t spend time together. All six of us were sewn to the hip. Wherever one went, the others went too. A lot of people called Rose and I their groupies as the four of them had started a band way back in high school. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say those four were actually married to one another. 

But to be fair, Alex and Reggie were speaking some truth now. I did miss Eric. I missed him tremendously. And maybe, once there, I could see that Los Angeles was truly where I belonged or if I should stay in Philadelphia with Eric… It was the ultimate life test. 

I heaved in a deep breath before lifting my hand to ring the doorbell at apartment 3E. Nerves bunched in the pit of my stomach and my hands were getting clammy. I wasn’t even sure if Eric was home. I wasn’t even sure if coming over was such a splendid idea. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. 

Even less so when a tall fiery red-haired girl opened up the door. My throat dried up for a second. Did I get the wrong apartment? Eric hadn’t told me about a girl roommate or anything. All I knew was that he lived with Jack and Shawn. Though I figured since Shawn had gotten into Pennbrook too, he might’ve moved into a dorm with Cory. 

“Hi, can I–” the girl stopped in her tracks as she let her eyes glide over me. “You’re y/n, aren’t you?” Her lips curled up into a smile. “Eric has told me so much about you!” 

The nerves in my stomach made room for fluttery butterflies. Eric talked about me. Even to girls as pretty as this one. Knowing Eric the way I do, I didn’t think he ever would. ‘Girl repellant’ he’d call it. 

“Uhm… Yeah… I wanted to surprise him… Is he here?” 

The girl chuckled. “Believe it or not, but he’s actually in class right now.” 

“Eric? In class?” 

She nodded her head, her lips curling up into a smirk. “I’m heading to campus now, you wanna come? His class is almost over.” 

It definitely beat sitting here, waiting for him. 

“Sure,” I replied and the girl quickly went to grab her stuff before walking out and guiding me towards the elevator again. 

“I’m Rachel, by the way. I just moved in a couple days ago,” she said while pushing the button to call the elevator. 

Rachel. Roommate Rachel. She was definitely Eric’s type… A girl. 

“Eric hasn’t told me about you yet. For a second, I thought I was at the wrong apartment,” I said, chuckling a little. 

Rachel and I got into the elevator and she told me about how she wound up living with Jack and Eric. I had to admit to myself that I was only slightly jealous of the moves the two boys had made on her. Not that I cared about Jack hitting on Rachel, but I did care about Eric doing it. 

The red-haired fury led me towards campus and we talked all the way there. Mostly about Eric. She asked me questions about our childhood and I told her every single story about him. It wasn’t hard talking about Eric. Everything we went through together flowed out of me like a waterfall. A waterfall of Eric-filled stories. 

“Oh, look. He’s at the Student Union, as predicted,” Rachel said, pointing towards where Eric, Jack, Shawn and Cory were seated on the sofas, sipping coffee. 

A smile involuntarily crept its way up to my face. Eric Matthews. Seeing him now made my heart beat faster and my stomach fill up with all sorts of butterflies. My LA boys were right. I did miss him tremendously. 

“Come on, let’s go say hi!” Rachel urged, pulling me along by my wrist. 

“Don’t you have a class to go to?” 

She shook her red mane. “I’d rather see this beautiful reunion,” she said. 

Cory was the first one who met my eyes. His laughter made room for confusion to then turn into delight. “Y/N?” he exclaimed, causing everyone’s head to turn my way before he got up to embrace me. Jack and Shawn hugged me next and when I turned to Eric, he was still seated on the couch with his cup of coffee halfway to his lips. 

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked. 

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear nervously. “What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

His wide eyes turned back to normal and as he put his cup on the coffee table in front of him, he blabbed while getting up to hug me. “Wha– of course I’m happy to see you, y/n. I just didn’t expect you to come? Don’t you have classes and stuff?”  

I inhaled the familiar scent of Eric Matthews. As my senses filled up with him, my nerves finally calmed down. I was home. 

“I wanted to surprise you…” 

His hands cupped my face as he regarded me. He inspected every inch of my face as if to see if I was complete and really there. “And surprised I am,” he whispered. 

Shawn handed me a cup of coffee as we all settled back onto the couch. They asked me questions about LA and about college in LA, and I answered each and every one of them. It felt good being with this gang again. It was like coming back home. 

Eric took me everywhere that weekend. Friday night, we went to Chubbie’s. On Saturday, he took me back home where I reacquainted with Alan and Amy, and we spent some time with Morgan. 

Now it was Saturday night and we were all at the club for a good party. I was three drinks in and chatting with Rachel at the bar. I had grown close to her over the two days I had been here. Just like Rose, she always knew exactly what to say. And she listened. She listened to all my sorrows and worries. She really listened. 

“I think you’re in love with Eric,” she stated before taking a swig of her beer. 

“What? No! I–” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I am in love with Eric…” 

She let out a cackle. “Ha! I knew it!” 

“I can’t act up on my feelings though, Rachel. We live miles apart. Being friends is already hard enough, I don’t even wanna know what being a couple would do to us. If Eric would reciprocate my feelings, that is.” 

“Would you believe me if I told you Eric is in love with you too?” 

“No.” 

“Well, he is! The way his eyes light up when he talks about you… It’s pure love. Sure, he can be a bit daft and he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but when he talks about you, he almost becomes poetic.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” I said and sipped from my beer again. 

Rachel shook her head at me. “See for yourself.” She pointed somewhere behind me and the second I turned around, Eric was in front of me with those big, sparkly eyes of his and that goofy smile I’d come to love. 

“Dance with me, baby!” he shouted and pulled me along to the dance floor. As I looked back at Rachel, she gave me a knowing look. She wasn’t right. She couldn’t be. 

“I need you to stay,” he slurred, clearly having drank one too many beers. “Please, can’t you stay?” 

“Eric,” I sighed, “You know I can’t. I’ve got –” 

“A degree to finish and friends to go back to, I know, I know…” 

I pressed my lips together in a thin line as I watched him. He was still moving, swaying from side to side to the music, but there was a lot less enthusiasm behind than before we started talking. 

“Hey,” I started and placed my hands on his shoulders. “You know I would stay if I could, right? I just – I can’t, Eric.” 

“Yes, you can, y/n. You can stay here, transfer to Pennbrook, live with me and Jack and Rachel. Be here. With me.” 

His offer sounded alluring. A little too alluring. The alcohol coursing in my veins almost made me say ‘yes’, but the sober part of me knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. “I need a better reason than that, Eric.”

“I’ve got more reasons for you to stay.” 

“Gimme one.” 

Before I could properly process what was happening, Eric grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine in a deep kiss. As we pulled apart for a moment, I had to take a breather and process what had just happened. 

“That’s a good reason,” I whispered before kissing him again. 

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that we’d actually wanted to do that for a long time, but the rest of the night we spent together, making out in a corner of the club until Rachel and Jack pulled us apart and brought us back to the apartment. Eric and I fell asleep together on the couch, cuddled up. The place where I’d wanted to fall asleep for months now. The place where I belonged.

It felt weird waking up in his arms. Not that we hadn’t done that before, but the events that preceded it were new. I hadn’t ever been kissed the way Eric had kissed me last night. It was with so much passion and love that filled up all my senses, that sobered me up almost straight away. 

Though, when he woke, it was like nothing happened. 

He didn’t speak about it, and changed the subject whenever I tried to. I didn’t know what had gone wrong. It was probably a mistake on his part. He probably didn’t want to kiss me. It was probably the alcohol speaking and not his heart. He didn’t love me the same way I loved him. 

It was all a mistake. 

“How was your night?” Alan asked playfully when we entered the Matthews’ kitchen for lunch on Sunday. 

“Good! We had fun,” I replied and glanced over at Eric. He had jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he moved over towards the fridge. 

“It was okay,” he spoke and shoved a knife right through my chest. 

I had no clue what I had done wrong or what had gone wrong. All I knew was that Eric was giving me the cold shoulder. The kiss must’ve been a mistake. It must’ve been something he didn’t even want to do and it was just the alcohol taking over. And now it had ruined our entire friendship. 

“When’s your flight back home?” Amy queried. 

I placed my knife and fork down as I had just finished the delicious lunch Amy had made all of us. “Tonight at eight,” I responded with a nervous smile. My stomach churned when I felt Eric tense up next to me. 

“Back to Northridge then, huh? Must be a big change going from cold Philadelphia back to warm and sunny LA,” Alan said with a smile and I nodded my head. 

“It’s gonna be quite the di–” before I could finish my sentence, Eric had shoved his chair back and without uttering a word, he stormed out of the kitchen. I could feel my heart break in my chest. He seemed angry. Frustrated. All of the things I didn’t want him to be before I went back to LA.

“I’ll go check on him,” I said and carefully slid my chair back before following Eric outside. 

He sat on the cushioned bench where we have had many a talk before as the sun set and the stars appeared into the sky. Though right now, it seemed awfully dark and gloomy. Nothing like what it used to feel like. 

“Eric, are you okay?” I plopped down next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. 

He scoffed. “No, I’m not okay. You know, I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask you to visit me. I didn’t ask and so I couldn’t prepare for you to leave… Again.” 

“Eric, I’m sorry. I thought it would be nice to surprise you. I–” I stopped talking as soon as he shot up from the bench and took a few steps away from me. He looked angry and sad at the same time and it broke my heart even further. 

“Don’t you know how much it kills me to see you go every time? But at least in the summer, I can prep myself for the goodbye that’s about to follow. I can prep myself for the heartache and now that I didn’t see it coming, I’m not ready for you to go.” 

I opened my mouth to say something else, but before I could, he gave me another glare and then stormed off to God-knows-where. I couldn’t move. I was frozen to the bench. My best friend just yelled at me and ran off. I didn’t even say goodbye to him. 

“Miss y/l/n, what a surprise,” a familiar voice sounded, causing me to snap my head towards the older man that stood in the next-door garden on the other side of the white fence. 

I smiled at him, but I knew it wasn’t genuine and I knew he knew it wasn’t. “Hey Mister Feeny.” 

“Are you okay?” he asked and opened the small gate. He made a beeline towards me and sat down on the bench next to me. 

I heaved in a deep breath, breathing in the familiarity of my old teacher. “No, I –” I mulled over my words. “I missed Eric, so I came to surprise him but I think it might’ve not been such a good idea.” 

“Why not?”

“‘Cause now he’s mad at me because he couldn’t prepare himself for me leaving…” I mumbled, focusing on the rings on my fingers as I twisted them around and around. “I don’t know what to do, Mister Feeny. I wanna stay with Eric, but I’ve got a life in LA. I’ve got friends and I’ve got Northridge and my family still lives there too…” 

I looked up to see my favorite teacher regard me with such a tender and familiar look. He felt sorry for me and I also knew there was a  pep-talk coming in a few seconds. Though at that moment, I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood for that pep-talk. 

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Miss Lawrence when she came to me with her dilemma,” he started wistfully, the only way Mister Feeny ever spoke. “You stay at Northridge unless you have a good reason not to.” 

My mind immediately went to last night’s events when Eric kissed me after he told me he had reasons for me to stay. If I had a reason, it would be Eric. Eric would be the one and only reason for me to move back to Philadelphia and I couldn’t lie when I said Eric weighs out every other reason I had for going back to LA. 

“I think you know what to do, Miss y/l/n,” he said before placing a comforting hand on my shoulder and getting up again. 

“Hey, Mister Feeny,” he stopped halfway to his house. “You’re a good teacher, you know that?” The genuine and heartwarming smile that curled Feeny’s lips upwards made me feel nostalgic. I had missed that man. 

“Thank you, Miss y/l/n. And you’re a good student.” 

As Mister Feeny returned to his home, I couldn’t help but think everything over. Every thought, every moment of the past weekend seeped back into my mind. There was only one way to stop my thoughts and I knew exactly what it was.  

“Y/N?” His voice caused me to snap out of my thoughts. There he was. Finally. “What are you still doing here?” he asked, visibly getting nervous. “I thought you’d gone home?” 

 I patted the spot next to me on the cushioned bench. Eric hesitantly took the spot, but I could tell he was tense and didn’t quite know what to do. He didn’t look at me and his hands fiddled around in his lap. 

“I am home.” 

Now he looked up at me. Confusion was written all over his face, a look I had seen on him before. The reminder of everything I ever told him that confused him made me giggle a little. 

“What do you mean? Don’t you have to get back to LA? Back home?” He turned his face back to the sky. It was starting to get dark out and the stars above us were starting to make an appearance, along with the bright moon. 

“I talked to Feeny and he told me that I should go back to Northridge…” I watched Eric’s jaw clench. “Unless I had a good reason not to.” 

He turned his head to face me again. “Is there a good reason?” 

I sighed. “I thought about it. I’ve got reasons to go back. Like my degree and my friends out there, my family…” Eric slowly nodded his head and I knew his mind was already preparing him for me to say I was going to go back. “But there’s one reason that makes me wanna stay here. One reason that outweighs all the other reasons.”

“And what’s that?” 

A soft smile befell my lips as I leaned in and cautiously pressed my lips to his. Last night’s memories seeped back into my mind. 

“You’re the reason, Eric Matthews.” 

He smiled as his eyes darted from mine to my lips and back before he fully kissed me on the lips. I couldn’t help but giggle before melting completely into the kiss, into him. After years of being best friends and months of pining for him, I was finally kissing my best friend. I had finally given into my feelings. 

And I was making the right decision. I knew that now. I knew that moving back to Philadelphia would be the right choice. I would be moving back home. Back with Eric. Close to Cory and Shawn and Jack and Topanga. All of my friends from when we were younger. Home. 

The only thing left to do now was break the news to my friends in LA… 

But that was a problem for later. 

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[reidsmemory]

Daycare

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Y/N is a high school teacher and Hotch’s niece. She meets the BAU one morning and feels a connection with one of the agents. A few weeks later she is involved in a kidnapping and has to get her students to safety. 

Genre: Action with some fluff

Quinn Speaks: Okay so I kinda got off track here and it’s more of a bad ass reader fic but I wrote the bulk of this at like 2 am. I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you want a part 2!!

not my gif!

     Your day started at 3 am. That’s right, 3 am. The buzzing noise of your phone woke you out of your slumber as you picked up the device and brought it up to your face, the blinding white light made your eyes adjust immediately. Uncle Aaron was listed as the caller ID and a picture of him, Jack, and yourself was also shown on the screen. 

     “Hello?” you said in your best ‘you totally didn’t wake me’ voice which really ended up being your ‘I’ve been dead for 5 years and been just revived’ voice instead.

     “Y/N, I’m really sorry, but I need you to come in to BAU. We just caught a case and I can’t a sitter for Jack so he’s here with me and-” the man would have kept rambling about the situation if you hadn’t cut him off.

     “No problem, Uncle Aaron. I’ll be there in 25 minutes.” You threw off your covers and began to walk over to your bathroom. 

     “You’re a lifesaver, thanks Y/N.” You hummed and he promptly hung up the call. You flipped on the light switch and saw that you had indeed looked like you had been dead for 5 years. You sighed and got to work. 

     You usually babysat Jack when Aaron was out of town for a case and your flat had become a second home for Jack. It wasn’t like that hadn’t happened before, him calling you about a case and needing you to watch Jack, no of course not. But he would usually call you a couple hours in advance or it would be during hours of the day when you were actually awake and running around. 

     You finished getting your hair to look quite decent all things considered and your teeth brushed and your face was washed. You decide to just throw a cardigan over your tank top and shorts and you made your way to the front door, grabbing your keys, phone, and some snacks for Jack as well as slipping on your strappy, tan sandals. 

     You locked your door and walked to the elevator on your floor and pressed the parking garage button. The elevator hummed as it went down and you yawned, stretching a bit as well.

     The doors dinged open and you made your way to your car and started to drive off. To keep your eyes awake, you played a classic rock station that was full of guitar solos and drum bangs that would surely keep you up. You pulled into a little drive through and got some coffees for yourself, your uncle, and his team as well as a hot chocolate for Jack.

     “25.96 is your total,” the cashier at the window said as you handed her your card. She was still ringing it up as she turned to you, “so, what’s got you up at 3 am and grabbing a shit load of coffee?”

     You chuckled lightly at her words, “babysitting emergency.” 

     She gave you a grin and handing you your card. “Well, good luck,” she said while handing you the holder for all the drinks as well as the drinks themselves. 

     “Thank you, have a good morning,” you said with a light smile.

     “Ditto.” She closed the windows and smiled as you drove off, you still had about 10 minutes to get to the BAU. Traffic was light which worked in your favor as well as living pretty close to the building. 

     You parked and started to get out with the coffees as you made your way to the entrance. You stepped inside as the security guards scanned you and checked the drinks and you were finally able to make your way up to the designated floor with a visitor pass.

     A woman with black hair came into elevator as well and you both exchanged good mornings and a light smiles. She was no doubt judging the outfit you were wearing, wondering where in the federal government you work that allowed you to come into work wearing your a sleep top and shorts as well as a big cardigan. 

     You both stepped out on the same floor and you made your way through the bullpen and straight to your uncle’s office.

     Emily watched you walk off and she furrowed her eyebrows, she had never seen you at the BAU before and now you were walking into her boss’ office with coffees and in your pj’s. “Do you know who that is?” she asked Spencer as he looked up from some paper work.

     “Who?” he asked as Emily discreetly pointed in your direction. Spencer furrowed his brows as he had never seen you before. He watched you walk up the small amount of stairs to Hotch’s office and noticed that you also had a visitor pass in you hand as well a some coffees. 

     “Spencer?” Emily said as he continued to watch you. “Reid!” she snapped in front of his face as he finally brought his attention back to Emily. He looked at her and quickly stole glances at you when he though she wasn’t watching. 

     She noticed. 

     Emily grinned at the younger man as he turned his attention back to Emily and blushed lightly, deciding to return to the papers in front of him, but not without sneaking another glance at you. 

     Your uncle opened the door and ushered you into his office where Jack was sleeping on the couch. “Thank you for coming,” his voice was quiet and you just smiled as he brought you into a hug. 

     “I got coffees for you and your team; needed one myself and figured you guys would want some too,” you whispered as Hotch smiled lightly and took the carrier from you. “So what happened?”

     “Missing child in Louisiana. He was over at a friends for a sleepover and was nabbed about an hour ago.” You nodded and frowned a bit as did your uncle.

     “Well, good thing they’ve got the best on the job,” you tried to lighten the mood as he held a closed lipped smile. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine.” 

     He nodded his head and grabbed some files from his desk and headed to the door of his office. You smiled at him as he said his goodbyes to Jack, waking him. 

     Hotch closed the door and was met by the stares of his team, “we’ll have to brief on the plane. There’s been a missing child report in Louisiana so wheels up in 10.” The team nodded and started to pack up and get ready.��“My niece got us all fresh coffee as well,” he walked down the stairs and put the tray on an empty table. 

     “Y/N’s here?” Morgan asked as Hotch nodded. “She is a lifesaver.”

     “My words exactly,” he said and walked away as the team went to grab the drinks. 

     You put Jack on your hip and started to walk out of the office. You closed the door and turned around as you were greeted by the warm smile of Derek Morgan.

     “Morning, Hotcakes,” he teased as you smiled widely. You walked down the stairs as he pulled you into a side hug seeing as Jack was clinging to your other side. You both pulled away as he started up again, “thanks for the drinks.”

     “Course, I figured you guys would be as tired as me,” you said nonchalantly as he nodded. You saw the other pairs of eyes on you and quickly introduced yourself, “sorry, i’m Y/N. Aaron’s niece.”

     They nodded at your words as Rossi made his way over to you. “Nice to see you again, Kiddo,” he hugged you the same way Morgan had and you smiled at the older man. 

     “Jennifer Jareau, but I go by JJ,” she stuck out her hand as you smiled at her and shook it. 

     “Emily Prentiss.” The raven haired woman did the same as JJ as she shook you hand and smiled.

     “Uh, Spencer Reid,” the taller brunette man told you as you shot him a small smile seeing as he didn’t offer a handshake. “I wasn’t aware that Hotch had a niece,” he said.

     “Oh, yeah. I moved out here a few months ago for Hotch and Jack,” you told them.

     “Where do you work?” JJ asked.

     “I’m a teacher at Philip Moore High School.”

     “Yeah, Miss. Y/N is the best history teacher,” Derek teased a you rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face. 

     “Alright, I better get out of your guys’ hair and get this little one out of here,” you told them as they nodded. “Good luck with the case.” You smiled at them and gave Morgan on last side hug before you were walking through the bullpen and towards the elevator. 

     Spencer watched as you went and felt a clap on his back from Derek. He whipped around and saw the older man smiling. “Somebody got a crush on the teacher?” he singsonged as Spencer’s cheeks flamed pink. 

     “From the minute I pointed her out to him,” Emily recalled as she chuckled a it, “the chatty doctor turns into a gaping teenage boy.” Spencer heard JJ snicker as he felt his cheeks heat up even further. 

     The door of the BAU opened as they all whipped around and saw Hotch standing with his go bag and some files, “lets go.”

***

     It was a few weeks later and the case had gone great from what your uncle told you. They had found the kid and caught the creep who took him within the 24 hour rule they set up. 

     You stood by a yellow school bus and held a roster of names in your hand. “Alright!” you yelled out as mostly all the kids quieted down. “I’m gonna let everyone sit where they want as long as the volume doesn’t get too loud, yeah?”

     There was a mix of yes’ and okay’s in the crowd of 25 or so sophomores. Today you were taking a trip to the nations capital, a tradition for this school. The kids would go see a historical museum and take a tour of the White House, then you all would eat lunch downtown and then the kids go to vote on whether they wanted to go to another museum or go see a historical show. 

     “Lets get going then.” The kids filed onto the bus as you marked the names to the faces. Your co-worker was standing next to you and handing kids their badges and name tags. 

     Once everyone was on the bus, you turned to the slightly older man. “Ready to go?” he asked you as you nodded. Both of you climbed on the bus and the kids quieted down as Mr. Greene opened his mouth, “Alright you all know the drill, no wondering off, no yelling or running, and stick with your partners!” 

     They all nodded and said a variation of yes.

     “I can take the middle if you want the front,” you told him as he nodded and you headed towards one of the benches you had put your bag on. A mix of girls and boys were around it and you were glad that you were on the younger side so that you could somewhat understand what they were talking about. 

     “Miss. Hotchner!” a boy called as you turned to face him. “Do you have any games for the ride?” This got the attention of the kids around you. 

     “Sure,” you started, trying to think of something to keep the teen engaged and interested. “Whoever can spot a red car with the letter q in the licences plate will get ice cream for them and their seat partner. Same thing goes for blue cars with a y.” The kids nodded and started conversing strategies on how they would do this. 

     You knew it was silly, but you would’ve loved if a teacher did this during your school trips. The bus started moving and you were soon pulling away from the school. 

***

     JJ walked into Hotch’s office, “We’ve got a case and need to go now.” He put down his pen and and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. 

     “Fill me in,” he said to JJ as he motioned for the rest of the team to get up. 

     “A bus full of high schoolers on their way to a field trip in DC. They never checked in to their morning tour or any other events. Parents can’t get a hold of kids and faculty can’t get in touch with the teachers on the trip.”

     “So it’s local. How long ago did the high school contact us?” he asked.

     “Not even 15 minutes ago,” JJ told him as he nodded. 

     “Let’s take the SUVs and set up at the high school,” he told the team as the nodded and grabbed their things and headed for the doors. They sped to the cars and split up; Hotch, Reid, JJ, and Morgan in one while Rossi, Emily, and Penelope were in the other. 

     “Alright,” JJ set up her phone so it was on speaker and connected to the other car. “26 kids and 2 teachers along with a bus driver were heading out for an annual field trip the school does for sophomores. No one on the bus has been able to be contacted and were supposed to be back at the school 45 minutes ago.”

     “What time did they take off?” Morgan asked.

     “7:15 am and their first activity was at 9:50 am which they never checked in for according to the museum,” JJ explained. 

     “Garcia,” Hotch started, “can you pull up the bus GPS?” 

     “On it, Sir!” she replied. They kept driving to the school and were within 7 minutes of the destination seeing as they had sped all the way there. The team talked more as Garcia was pulling stuff up. Hotch pulled into the school and payed no attention to the sign as they did so. 

     They hopped out of the car and were met with the principal who had a grief stricken face. “Thank you so much for coming,” he spoke, “James Randalf, I’ll take you guys to the room we’re set up in.”

     “SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he said as he stuck out his hand. The man shook it but held a weird look on his face. “What is it?” Hotch asked.

     “You said Hotchner?” he asked as Aaron nodded, “Any relation to Y/N Hotchner?”

     “Yes, she’s my niece. This is Philip Moore High School?” The principal nodded as they walked through the hallway. He opened to door for the team swiftly as he stepped in. 

     “She’s one of the teacher’s that was on the bus.” Hotch paled at the man’s words as the rest of the team did a double take. Spencer had been to immersed in the case file and hadn’t seen the name of the high school as they pulled up or he would’ve at least connected the dots a bit faster. 

     “Get started,” Hotch said as he pulled out his phone rung your number up. The phone stayed ringing and no one picked up as Aaron cursed under his breath. “Garcia I need you to get the GPS of this number,” Hotch read your number and thought to himself that you always kept your GPS on and he urged you to do it one day as you took Jack.

     “Just in case anything happens, alright?”

     “Nothing will happen to us, but okay,” you said with as smile as Jack giggled in your arms.

     “Got the location, Sir,” Garcia said as Hotch snapped out of the trance he was in. 

     “Call for a SWAT car. Morgan, Emily, Reid, Rossi lets go,” Hotch ordered as they all nodded and followed the man out of the building, all hoping to find you and the kids.

***

     “Everyone just stay calm!” the man yelled as he entered the bus with another man behind him. The bus driver reached for his walkie-talkie and the second man shot him right in his forehead. The kids around you were whimpering and crying as you tried to be discreet about your movements.

     You grabbed the pepper spray from you bag and put it down your bra as well as taking your small pocket knife and putting it in your shoe. Students looked to you as you held up a finger to your mouth and nodded at them, gesturing for them to listen and stay quiet.

     “We don’t want to hurt anyone else,” the first man started, “we just want everyone to stay calm and stay quiet. We won’t kill you.”

     “Phones now,” the second said as he came around with a sack as kids put their phones in. You kept your head down and did the same, he didn’t seem to realize you were a teacher. He walked back up the aisle and pointed his gun at Mr. Greene. “Red, up,” he said referring to the color of the man’s shirt. He instructed Greene to move the bus driver out of his seat and onto the side of the road. Once he was finished he stood back up and both men stepped outside and shot him as well as dumping the phones.

     You took this opportunity to turn to the kids next to you. “Only call me by my first name, Y/N,” you told them as they nodded, “pass it on.” They whispered to each other and you were pretty sure that all the students knew what to do now.

     They stepped back on the bus and one of the men got into the driver’s seat while the other stepped to the aisle at the front of the bus. “Everyone is gonna quiet up. You all are a special bunch, parents in high position, rich, and willing to do whatever they can to get back their precious children.” The other man laughed as he started up the bus. “If I see anyone trying to communicate with the outside I will not hesitate to blow your head off. No talking and we wont have a problem.”

     He sat where Mr.Greene did as the other man started to drive off. Some kids kept their heads down and others near you looked to you. You signaled that everything was going to be okay and that you would kept them safe. 

     There had to be a way to warn you uncle where you were going. 

***

     At the sight, the team found two bodies and all of the cellphones. Hotch cursed silently as did the rest of the team. Spencer walked up and down the road as something had caught his eye. He picked up a folded piece of paper and opened it carefully. 

     “Do you have something, Kid?” Morgan asked as he nodded and walked over to the agents. 

     He unfolded the note and showed them as Hotch spoke up, “that’s Y/N’s handwriting.”

     2 men, White. 5′11 & 5′9. 190 and 170 lb. Aggressive and passive. Friends.

     The note had the team smiling as you had been able to give a clue of what they had to look for. “Definitely a Hotchner,” Rossi joked as Aaron smiled lightly at the man’s words. 

     “Lets get this back to Garcia, see if she can get a match.” The team nodded at their section leader’s words. 

     Spencer held the note in his hand and smiled to himself, he had only met you once, but you were proving to be very resourceful as well smart. This made his small crush grow into a full blown one and now he just had to get you back.

***

     They had taken you all to an abandoned barn about 3 hour drive at top speed. They tied you all up and made you all sit as they quickly made their way to a van that was parked in the barn. They had taken the boys to another location and left the the girls in the barn.

     As soon as you heard the car pull away you looked around for any cameras and saw that their were none. Girls whispered to each other as you soon gained their attention, “everyone listen up,” their eyes where on you. “We are going to get out of here alright?” They nodded as you quickly assessed the situation. 

     “What are you going to do, Miss. Hotchner?” one of the girls asked.

     “Get out of these.” You took the pocket knife from your shoe and switched it open. “Here,” you said handing it to one of the girls, “cut these open.” She nodded and did as you told her. Soon the zip ties where off your hands and you took the knife back from her and cut the zip ties around your feet. 

     You quickly did the same to the rest of the girl as you were all free now. “We move together. If they come back I’ll hold them off and the rest of you run and get help. Get my uncle, his name is Aaron Hotchner and he works for the FBI. Take this,” you grabbed the pepper spray and handed it to one of the girls, “use it if you have a good shot and pick up anything you can defend yourself with.”

     They nodded and you lead the way out of the barn. The van was no where in sight and you were good to go. You started going a different path than the main road in as to avoid the men. 

     You were able to walk with the girls for a good couple hours as you soon saw a gas station. You walked in with the girls and told the man behind the counter your predicament, he was about to dial the police as the door opened and a man walked in. One of the men who kidnapped you all. 

     He shot the man behind the counter and the girls froze. “Thought you could get away that easy?” he said as you gripped the knife in you hand behind your back. He came closer and pointed the gun at you all. “Lets go!” he yelled as some of the girls flinched. He got closer as you were able to tackle him the the ground. 

     His gun went off and slid to the side as the girl watched you and him fight.  You were able to flip him on his stomach and grab the keys out of his pocket. You threw them at the girls direction and yelled, “go! Like we talked about! Get to a big city and don’t stop!” He manged to flip you over and push you to the ground as you gritted you teeth and saw the girls run out of the shop and to the van. 

     You kneed him in the sweet spot as he crumbled above you and you got up on your feet and went to the gun but were tackled to the ground as your face slammed down. He turned you over and held down your hands as he delivered a punch to your face.

     This went on for a while; you and him struggling and giving each other bruises that would hurt for days. You were finally able to knock him out, by slamming his head against the hard floor. 

     You stood up and took the gun and knife as you were able to make your way out of the store and to the little car sitting outside. You broke the passengers side window and unlocked the car and made your way over to the drivers side to hot wire the car. You fumbled with wires and finally got the car to start as you heard a chime from the store entrance. The man was coming out as you pulled out as he tried to chase you as you stuck the gun out your window and were able to hit him in the leg as he fell to the ground. All those times training with your uncle had finally paid off. 

     You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but go back to the direction of the barn. You hadn’t seen any structures where they could’ve keep the boys and you had to get them to safety. You had promised them. 

***

     A white van pulled up to the front of the school about 2 hours after the BAU had gotten there. The girls filed out and made their way inside the building as they saw the cars parked out in front and figured their would be someone there. The doors were open and they walked in and were met with shocked faces of the staff. 

     The staff got the agents as they made their way to the front of the school. Aaron watched as the girls look around clearly nervous and distraught. “We need to conduct interviews now.” The team nodded as they each took one of the girls into a classroom. JJ gathered all the parents with daughters and told them the good news. 

     Spencer and Aaron sat with one of the girls. “Start at the beginning.”

     The girl told them about the barn and how you had gotten them out and then the walk to the gas station and how you had fought with the man as you told them to go and get help. “Do any of you know Aaron Hotchner? Miss. Hotchner told us to get him and he would know what to do.”

     “That would be me,” Aaron spoke as she nodded. 

     “She saved us and I feel so bad for just leaving her there, with that man,” she shuddered at the thought. “Do you think he killed her?” she whispered to them as both Spencer and Hotch paled at the thought.

     “I don’t think so,” Spencer spoke honestly, “Miss. Hotchner is very resourceful and you said she had the upper hand, right?” The girl nodded as Spencer smiled. “I’m sure she’s fine and you did just what she told you. You don’t have to feel guilty.” 

     She left the room and was soon reunited with her parents. 

     “We need to get to the gas station,” Hotch said as Spencer nodded. “Half of us will go there and the other half to the barn. We can have Garcia see if the car had GPS and if she can retrace where it’s been.”

     The team regrouped and Garcia was able to get 3 locations in the vicinity. They split up accordingly and headed out to the locations.

***

     You had scoped out a small building. It had no cars in front of it and was the the closest building to the barn you had been in earlier. You knew you could either go in guns a-blazing, but the man inside would have the kids as leverage and you knew you had to take him out as soon as possible or at least injure him. 

     You held the gun in your hand and quickly made your way to the building as you looked into one of the windows and saw the boys all tied up and the man sitting with as concerned look on his face. You devised your plan and figured it would be easier to lure him out. You walked back to the car and put pressure on the horn as it continued to make noise as the heavy stick pressing against it held.

     The man came out as you hid behind a tree and waited for him to have his back to you. Once this happened you fired your gun and hit him in the back of his leg. He dropped to the ground and his gun went forward. You ran over and picked it up as he cried out and started cussing at you. 

     “You stupid bitch! You’re gonna pay for this!” he screamed.

     “Sure, buddy,” you said in an amused voice. You put the guns down as you turned him on his back and took the branch for the car and hit his jaw with it as he passed out. You put it down and checked his pulse, still alive. You opened up the trunk of the car and held him in an army carry as you put him in the small space as you closed and locked the trunk. You jogged over to the building and opened the door to see around 17 teenage boys looking at you with more fear than you had ever seen. 

     “Miss. Hotchner!” one said as you smiled and got out your knife and began getting the zip-ties off of them. 

     “Is everyone okay? Anyone hurt?” They all said no to your question as nodded and finished getting everyone free.

     “What happened to the girls?” one boy asked. 

     “They are hopefully with my uncle and making sure someone comes for us soon,” you told them as they nodded. “You’ll all get the full story when we get out of here, okay?” 

     You lead them out of the small building and told them to stay there. They did as told as you brought the car over and made sure to keep an eye on the man inside if he did manage to escape. 

     After waiting for a hour or so in the dark, a black SUV pulled up along with a swat car. 

     “Everyone put you hands up, it’s alright,” you told them as you placed down the gun and knife and put you hands above your head. The boys followed in suit and you soon saw your uncle get out of the car.

     “Guns down! It’s just the kids!” he made his way over to you as you hugged him tightly. You groaned lightly as he pulled away. “Are you alright?” You nodded and gestured towards the kids as your uncle understood. 

     Spencer came over to you as smiled lightly at him. Your face was littered with cuts and bruises and even a bit of blood that was dried on your face. “Hey, Spencer,” you said as he smiled lightly. “There’s one of the douche bags in the trunk.” You pointed as he nodded at you words.

     “Can I get some cuffs and a guy over here!” he yelled out as he made his way over to the trunk. A SWAT guy had his gun up as you unlocked the trunk and the man tumbled out. 

     He immediately started yelling, “where is that bitch!” he lunged at you from the ground as the SWAT cuffed him and brought him into custody. You closed the trunk and swiftly sat atop it. You winced slightly as Spencer was quick to come by your side. 

     “You’re hurt,” he said frowning as you nodded at his word. 

     “Got thrown around a bit,” you joked. He quickly went over to the SUV and got back to you as he was now holding a first-aid kit. He set it down on the trunk and quickly got to work on your face. 

     You cuts had stopped bleeding by now, but they were still open and Spencer delicately wiped them down and placed a few bandages on your face. You swore he was blushing, but it was too hard to tell in the dark. 

     He finished cleaning up your face and Hotch quickly thanked him. You got into the stolen car as 3 of the boys got in with you as well as Spencer and he started to drive off to the school.

***

     Spencer pulled up to the school as you all got out of the car. Parents were waiting outside the car and the boys rushed to them as they all let out cries. You smiled at the sight and had also asked Spencer about the fate of the girls earlier and were grateful for that as well. You made your way over to a paramedic and she checked you out and quickly realized that you had in fact a minor dislocated your shoulder. 

     “Seriously?” you asked as she nodded.

     “It was probably the adrenaline that allowed you body to over look it. That with the other bruises all over your body, your mind probably thought it was just one of those,” she explained. “I’ll have to pop it back in place.” You grimaced and nodded as she made her way over to your side. 

     Hotch was by your side as you stuck out your hand and he took it. Some of the students were watching, worried for you. 

     “Big breath in,” she told you as you followed her instructions and she quickly popped it back into place. You shoulder cracked loudly and you yelped a bit and turned some heads. “Alright, you’ll have to treat it with care and it might swell, but you are good to go Miss. Hotchner.”

     “Thank you,” you told her with a light smile and you hopped of the back of the ambulance. Your uncle rubbed you back as you looked to him. “How’s Jack?” you asked as he smiled at your question. 

     “He’s fine. Will, JJ’s husband, is watching him.” You nodded at his response and made your way to the school as he still had to pack up some stuff. “I’m driving you home and don’t even think about coming into work tomorrow.” You laughed as he smiled at you. 

     “Miss. Hotchner!” Your name was called you looked to your uncle and quickly departed to got talk to the families. 

     “Is everything alright?” you asked the father as he nodded. 

     “We,” he gestured towards all the parents, “wanted to thank you for saving our kids and keeping them safe.” A few mothers and fathers were crying and kids were smiling at you lightly.

     “Of course, i’m just glad that everyone is okay,” you told them truthfully. A girl came up to you and hugged you tightly as more kids came up and eventually the whole class was in a big group hug as some of them cried a bit, you surely teared up. They pulled away when your uncle came out and you bid the adieu and goodnight as you made your way over to Hotch. 

     “Ready?” he asked as you walked to your car. 

     You bit your lip. “One moment.” You made your way over to the young doctor and tapped him on the shoulder as he whipped around.  “Spencer,” you spoke softly as he looked at you and paused on working on your face. “Would you want to get dinner on Friday?”

     Spencer looked at you with wide eyes and couldn’t help but smile widely at your question.         

     “It’s just, I almost died a few time today and I don’t want to do anything that  would regret, which would include not asking you out. I know it’s bad timing and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to and-”

     You would’ve kept rambling, but Spencer cut you off, “I would love to have dinner on Friday with you.” You smiled at the man as he smiled back and now you were sure of the blush on his cheeks. 

     “Cool, um, do you have a pen?” you asked as he nodded and fumbled to get a pen from his bag. You smiled at him and took his palm as you wrote out your phone number and handed it back to him. “See you on Friday.” You smiled brightly as he nodded. You pecked his cheek and turned around quickly and was met with a surprised look on your uncles’ face.

     Spencer blushed brightly and brought a hand up to his face to check if that had actually happened. Derek came up behind him and smiled widely as he clapped him on the back. 

     “Finally got the girl! Good job man!” Derek told him as he smiled widely and was met with happy smiles from the rest of the team.

     “Dinner on Friday!” he gushed as they cheered and clapped a bit. All happy that the man had gotten some good new for once. 

      Dinner on Friday.

[syndxlla]

More To Love

Part two of the More to Love series

Summary: As you start adapting to Mandalorian culture and life in the palace, you have to start thinking whether or not you’ve made the right decision.

Word Count: 6.2k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Non-Consensual kiss, mentions of loss of pregnancy

Author’s Note: Wow wow wow, the support I’ve gotten for this fic already has been so awesome thank you so much especially to the people who have direct messaged me you’re all so kind I love you guys!!!!

Part One here

“Good-morning, Your Highness.” A Handmaiden said as she pulled open the heavy curtains, letting the bright morning light shine into your elegant room. You softly moan as the sun hits your eyes, and roll onto your side to try and sleep more. “Today you will be having brunch with Her Majesty the Queen and a few members of her court and we have set aside a bit of time for you and The Prince to get to each other this evening before dinner in the library.” Her accent was thick like the Prince’s. You sigh and roll around onto your back, letting your limp hand rest by your face. “I trust you slept well?” She asked as she walked towards your bed, in her hands was a golden tray with a teapot on it.

“Not enough sleep.” You groan, trying not to sound annoyed but failing.

“Would you like to sleep longer, Highness?” She asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You sigh before scooting to sit up in your bed, and she places the tray on the table by the mattress.

“I wasn’t sure what type of tea you liked, so I brought a chamomile, do you have a preference?”

You stop to think for a moment, “Chamomile is fine for today, but do you have any hsuaberry tea?” Hsuberries are native to Corellia, and you could use a little taste of home.

“I’m not sure, but I will check for tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” You nod.

“I’ll return in a half-hour with the other maiden’s to prepare you for the day then?”

“Alright… Miss?” You stop her as she turns to leave. “Do you have a name? What can I call you?”

“Oh… of course, Lady Soniee would be fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for asking.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You smile in return. “Lady Soniee, is my guard outside?” You ask.

“Yes, he returned to his post with my arrival, in the night we have the night guards patrolling so our individual day guards get some time off.” She explains.

“Would you… Would you send him in, please?” You ask.

“Yes, Highness. Is there anything else you would like?” Soniee asks.

“No, that’s all, thank you, dismissed.” You released her from her duty and she turned to leave the room. As her back was turned to you, you rub a bit of the sleep out of your eyes and run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame your bed head. You wanted to look presentable for the knight. Truthfully, you haven’t quit thinking about him since last night’s endeavor. You fell asleep picturing what he looked like under his armor, and brainstorming what his name might be. You even wondered if you dreamed about him, but it’s all gotten hazy now. You knew this was inappropriate, and that you were here for your wedding with another man, but something about the secret relationship the two of you were forming was exciting, you were addicted to it. You sigh deeply as she closes the door behind her and then quickly looks down at your nightgown, proceeding to pull the cap sleeves down your shoulders a bit to show more skin and more of your collar. You laugh slightly to yourself, “You are ridiculous.” You mumble, chuckling. Before you could consider anything else, however, he walked in, his stature at attention.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” He asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up in his presence, “I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” You tried not to gush as you spoke.

“Oh… Yes, anything for you, your Highness.” He nodded in response. Your chest filled with warmth as you looked at him.

“You’ll be accompanying me today, correct?” You ask.

“Of Course, Your Highness.” He nodded once again, you really wanted him to call you princess again.

“Wonderful, I hope you slept well last night.”

“I did, Princess, did you?” You smiled a little too wide at the title, and tried to cool your cheeks, not wanting to look like an absolute child in front of him.

“Yes, I did, thank you once again, I’ll see you later.” You sigh in response. “Dismissed.” That word felt like poison to you, you didn’t really want him to leave but didn’t know how to keep him around longer. This was an accident waiting to happen, and you had the power to stop it in its tracks, the only problem is that you didn’t want to.

—

The Gardens were even more beautiful in the daylight, the sun shone spectacularly off the fountains and the various statues scattered throughout the estate contrasted lovely with the bright flowers. You sat at a round table ornately decorated with various different pastries, teas and sandwiches on it. Around the table was the Queen, the women of her royal court, yourself and of course the Elf. You really wanted to speak to the elf, unfortunately, you asat across from her, and was forced to mostly converse with The Duchess Wren and another woman you had never spoken to before. The Queen introduced her to you last night but you were having a hard time remembering her name. The women weren’t in such heavy gowns this time, and none of them wore the jeweled headpieces they had on the night before except for the queen. You wore a light beige and white dress which ruffled at the sleeves and had a scooping boat neckline. It was very beautiful, however the corset back didn’t go nearly as high this time as the last dress did, which meant you couldn’t use it as an excuse to spend more time alone with the silent knight. He stood a few feet behind you away from the table, watching over the event. Every now and then you would turn to glance at him, ceiling every time you laid eyes on his armor.

The tea was fine, not as good as the winter teas you had back home, they were far more bitter. Mandalorians clearly enjoyed more bitter-tasting food as you noticed the longer you’re here. Once again, you were being mostly ignored as the Women who knew each other talked about drama within the Mandalorian Royalty. It was all much more conspicuous than anything you would talk about at home, and you found yourself quietly listening in on the various conversations instead of applying yourself to them. The women most likely thought you were some sort of strange claude, not social enough and far too boring for their culture. Again, you tried convincing yourself that you were overthinking, but you had a hard time believing yourself.

“And what about you, Your Highness?” The Elf spoke up, interrupting your deep and self-centered thoughts.

“Huh?” You were not listening.

“What do you think about the conduct to come out of Coruscant?” One of the fatter women sitting by the queen asked.

“Oh… I think they’ve rather lost their integrity since the assassination of their Emperor…” You clear your throat. You were just saying what you remember hearing your father say, attempting to fit into the conversation and hopefully gain some affection, knowing how much Mandalore despised Coruscant (you were rather indifferent, however).

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Queen smiled, “I believe you will be well suited for the politics of Mandalore.”

“Oh yes,” you began, “I had been preparing to be Queen of Corellia my whole life, I find politics rather exciting.” You admitted.

“Hm, I prefer to leave the politics to the men.” The fat woman scoffed and sipped her tea.

“I nearly forgot, you’re the only hair to the throne of Corellia, aren’t you?” The elven queen asks.

“Yes, I am.” You nod in response.

“Ah yes, your mother got sick and lost a baby-” The fat woman laughed. Your face dropped and went pale.

“Excuse you-” You began.

“Lady Aryn, have you no respect?” The Queen frowned.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, just a rumor I heard.” She shrugged, not seeming to care that she offended you or The Queen.

“Well it’s not a rumor.” You swallowed thickly, wanting to put her in per place for such an inappropriate comment, “My mother lost a baby when I was all but five and you have the audacity to bring it up like there’s nothing rude about it.” You spit out.

“Well who is to take the throne once you marry the Prince?” The fat woman asked as she sipped her tea. Many of the other women involved stayed quiet, timidly watching the drama play out.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business.” You chuckle out of frustration.

“It is my business, whomever rules Corellia during the impending war will directly affect how Mandalore responds to it. Considering my husband is the Grand General of the Mandalorian Army, it is very much my business.” Lady Aryn raised an eyebrow and dread washed over your body as she finished.

“I believe that your Cousin will be taking the throne?” The Elf Queen vouched for you and you were thankful she did, but still found the entire situation rude and out of hand.

“It should be me, but I’m being married off and getting my title stripped away from me.” You blurted out and immediately regretted what you said. You looked around at the faces of the women at the table. Each one showing a different expression of shock or betrayal, everyone but the Queen. The Queen’s face was stern, her lips dangerously straight and thin and her eyes dark as the two of you made eye contact. You had offended the Queen of Mandalore, you had offended the most powerful and wealthy monarch in the world. You sighed, and closed your eyes for a moment. “May I be excused, Your Majesty?” You asked with your eyes closed, waiting to open them until you finished speaking. You looked up at her through furrowed eyebrows, awaiting her response. The air was deathly thick, the tension grew as the court looked around at the scene. Your anger was justified, the remark on your unborn sibling was out of turn and incredibly rude, and after feeling ignored and unwanted for twenty-four hours by the very people set up to be your family, you snapped.

“You are excused.” The Queen said quietly, almost too quiet to hear, and you slowly stood from your chair before turning to leave. You looked to your knight as you did, and he followed. After you made distance between yourself and the other Mandalorian women, you could hear faint whispers. That went so much worse than you could have ever imagined. You want to disappear, you want to go home. You swallow a tear and sigh of relief when you get back into the Palace, strolling the halls until you found an empty sitting room. You sit down on one of the blue sofas and bring your fist up to your mouth. The Knight waited at the door, watching your every move. You felt ridiculous, and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of the only person who’s shown you any decency since you arrived in Mandalore. You look over to him with dewey eyes before clearing your throat.

“I apologize for my conduct, I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You shakily sigh out. He didn’t reply, and you laugh once, “I suppose you have your code to uphold here.” You look down as you place your hands in your lap.

“No, I’ve sworn to protect you, that comes before the code of arms.” He takes a step forward and you were almost startled at his voice, you weren’t expecting him to speak up, but you were incredibly happy he did. You look up to see him a little closer, and smile just slightly at his gesture. “I didn’t protect you out there, I’m sorry.” He nodded his head.

“There’s no way you could have known,” You shrug, you didn’t want him to blame himself for your mistake, “Besides, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Maybe you weren’t in any physical danger, but.. I really shouldn’t say this but that was out of hand. You’re family with the Queen now, she should have defended you.” He continued to step closer to you. “I deeply apologize for being so careless and allowing you to be hurt.” He bowed after saying this, and you smiled.

“Your apology is accepted, Sir Knight.” You slightly teased. “Thank you.” Your chest and stomach was filled with that warm and welcoming feeling again, and the negative endeavor from outside was forgotten even for just a moment. You knew you would have to face it eventually, and formally apologize to the Queen for offending her, but until then, you would allow yourself to feel okay for now. “You’ve been the kindest to me since I arrived.” You tilt your head, “You have no idea what it’s meant to me.”

“As I said, I vowed to be there for you, I will honor that vow.” He said, you didn’t want to feel like he was only being nice to you because he had to. You suck your lips in for a quick second as you absorb his response, unsure of how to respond. “But-” he interrupted your thinking, “It has truly been a pleasure to serve you, and I would be happy to undress you when you ask.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse me?” It’s not that you didn’t like what you said, you just weren’t expecting it so casually.

“That- came out wrong, forgive me.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I’m happy to help you with anything you like.” He clears his throat and you smile, blushing at his sheepish correction.

“I understand.” You look down at the floor again. “I’m sorry they only give you the nights off.” You switched the topic, not wanting to linger on the last one in case someone was walking by or overheard anything.

“That’s fine, I... enjoy my time with you.” He stopped mid-sentence to consider what he was saying. You smile and laugh a little again.

“It must be tiring, wearing the armor all day, standing at attention, only getting a handful of breaks every few hours…” You think out loud.

“I’m used to it,” He shifts to his weight on one leg, lightly poppin his hip out as he speaks to you. “It’s not so bad, anymore.”

“Is the armor heavy?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

“Yes, but that’s another thing we get used to. Our bodies adapt to it.”

“So… are you saying you’re strong under all that metal.” You raise and eyebrow, flirting just a little. You could hear a light chuckle come through the helmet when you said this.

“I guess you could say that.” It was like you could hear his smile.

“I’ve found that all Mandalorians are very attractive, do you fall under that assumption?” You knew very well you were playing with fire, that this was uncharted territory and everything was screaming at you to stop before you got too far but you couldn’t. Everything about him was so intriguing to you.

“I’m.. I’m not from Mandalore, actually…” He slowly responded.

“Oh?” You tilted your head, “I thought you had to be in order to be a part of the guard?”

“Well, in a way, you do. You have to be either born in or taken in as a foundling, and that’s what happened to me.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” You blinked, “Where are you from? Or can you not tell me…”

“The Nevarro frontier.” He responded, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He groaned. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sound of his rough voice groaning in such a way. You swallow your thoughts.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I guess you could say that.” You smile at him again after he says this before turning and looking behind you, taking in the room. This was a larger sitting room, and there was a baby-grand piano in one of the corners. Outside of the windows you could see a courtyard, not the same courtyard that the garden is placed in, but one that was stoned and had a large tree in the center of it. There was so much of the palace you hadn’t seen yet, it was far larger than the Corellian one. You stood up to walk over to the piano, feeling a bit better now, and sitting at it. “Can you play?” He asked.

“Yes, I learned at a very young age.” You bring your hands up to keys and begin playing a song, one you have memorized. It was your mother’s favorite song. You played it with such emotion that the Knight was drawn into it, relaxing from his attentive stature and enjoying the sound.

“You’re... very talented.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” You said, looking up at him from the instrument. “I’m a bit rusty I must admit.” You shrug.

“I know someone who would really love it, no matter how rusty you say it is.” He explained.

“Who?” You ask as you stop playing, wondering who he may be talking about.

“I-I shouldn’t say, I’ve already broken the code so much-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I fully understand.” You interrupt, “But just know that anything you say is safe with me, If you vowed to protect me from both physical and emotional harm, the least I can do is keep your secrets.” You nod. He sighs, you can’t hear it but you see it in the armor.

“My.. Uh, my son.”

—

“Soniee, do you know if any guards are fathers?” You ask as the handmaiden tightens the corset on a different dress, tying it to your body. You were preparing for some time alone (chaperoned) with the Prince. You knew you promised the Knight you would keep his secret, and you would do everything in your power to uphold that secrecy, but you figured there was no harm in asking a few questions here and there. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re just curious about the customs and traditions of your new kingdom.

“Well many of the Knights have families of their own, some have illegitimate children as well.” She said behind you.

“So, they don’t have an oath of celibacy?” You ask, hoping it didn’t sound too strange or specific.

“What? No,” She laughed as she said ‘no’, “No, marriage and families are incredibly important to Mandalorian society, the only thing stronger than power or war is love and family. Blood before anything else.” She explained, she had clearly said those words before.

“Maybe that’s why everyone is so cold towards me.” You sigh.

“Maybe.” Soniee confirmed, “But I also believe any new member of house Kyrze is going to be given a hard welcome.”

“And why is that?” You ask, wincing afterwards due to a tight pull of the corset.

“Well it’s taught in every Mandalorian history class: House Kyrze is the royal bloodline, but it wasn’t always that way…”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a civil war some years ago almost immediately after the assassination of Queen Satine. A bad man came in and tried to overthrow Queen Bo-Katan. He was successful in his endeavors for a while, and that's why the Elves and the Queen are so close-” The handmaiden explained.

“I never knew about a Mandalorian war that happened among themselves?”

“It’s shielded from the outside world, we fear that if it gets out, people will stop coming to us for their wars out of speculation that we are not strong enough to fight them if we can’t control each other.” She finished the corset and took a step back, admiring the beautiful dress. “Many Mandalorian’s blame Queen Bo-Katan for the civil war even though she gave up everything she believed in to protect the royal family. You see, she used to be on the side of the Bad Man, but switched after her sister’s death. Many see her unfit for the crown, including members of her own Court.” You didn’t need any more explanation from Soniee to assume who that might be. Considering your previous endeavor this morning, the fat woman probably did not approve of the queen.

“That is why it’s essential that this marriage happens. The people love Korkie, they always have. He is the true heir and the pride of his mother, who was revered and loved throughout all of the kingdoms. When he is back on the throne, not only will anyone who disapproves of Bo be silenced, but they will also see it as one of her many successes. Having to raise and prepare a child who isn’t even yours is not easy.” Soniee concluded.

Great, another weight to be placed on your shoulder based on your ability to fall in love.

“I had no Idea any of that happened.” Your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Personally, I believe that is why you’ve received such a harsh welcome, Korkie is the golden boy of Mandalore, and many will not see you fit for his wife.” You sighed, your belly filling with stress.

“Highness, the Prince is waiting for you in the library.” Your Royal Guard interrupts the conversation, and you smile at him.

“Thank you, Lady Soniee, you’ve been incredibly kind and helpful.”

“Of course, Princess. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She curtsied and you walked out of a your suite into the hallway.

This dress was simpler than the last, a soft pink with embroidered flowers running up and down the smooth tulle and puffy sleeves. It was very beautiful, one you brought from Corellia that was gifted to you a few years ago. You wore pearls from Naboo, and had a soft look to your ensemble. You wanted to be perceived in a specific way by your fiancé, pure of heart, and genuine.

You open the doors to the hallway, and your guard is standing at attention.

“Would you escort me to the library?” You ask, smiling with your lips afterwards. He nods and holds his arm out for you to take, looping your own arms round his and walking down the hallway.

“You look very beautiful, your highness.” He said quietly through the metal, quiet enough that you were the only one who would hear it if anyone would be listening in. You got the lightest touch of goosebumps at his deep and gruff whisper in your ear.

“Thank you, do you think The Prince will like it?” You ask, looking up at his helmet with beady eyes.

“He would be a fool if he didn’t.” The Knight responded, and your stomach filled with butterflies. You blushed as you experienced the addictive feeling of his presence, and pulled him just a bit closer to you. The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the journey to the beautiful library. This was a part of the palace that you had never been to before, and it was just as stunning as the rest of the castle. Books from all over the world in countless languages sat upon towering bookshelves that reached the tall ceiling. There was a large fireplace and in front of it was a number of red velvet armchairs and sofas. As you entered the quiet room, your eyes immediately found the Prince, who sat in one of the chairs reading a book, his head resting against his fist. You and the Knight walk towards him, and as you pull to unhook your harm, you feel him stretch his hand out to feel you for as long as possible before the contact breaks.

“Prince Korkie.” You curtsie, interrupting his reading. He looked up from the book and smiled, standing and bowing to kiss your hand once again.

“Your Highness, You look lovely.” After he compliments you, you turn to look at the guard, smiling.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.” You as he takes your hand and guides you to sit on a sofa.

“Not at all.” He reassured, “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Vaughn, he will be chaperoning us today.” He gestured to a man sitting across from you.

“My pleasure, Princess.” He stood from his seat to bow.

“The library is beautiful, as is everything else in the palace.” You compliment.

“It’s less beautiful when it’s been your classroom growing up.” The Prince teased and you chuckle. “If you would like, please feel free to take any books at any time.” He nodded.

“Thank you, but I’ve never been very into reading.” You admit. “I much prefer music.”

“Ah yes, I play the viola, my mother taught me when I was a boy-“ Somehow he always made it about himself you noticed. You didn’t think he tried to, but conversations are rather boring when you’re just listening. He talked for nearly a half-hour about playing for the Queen of Naboo as a twelve year-old and being revered as a child prodigy for the early part of his life. You sat quietly as he bragged, telling the story to both you and the chaperone instead of keeping his focus on you. You even caught your mind wandering every now and then, glancing over to your knight to make a little face of boredom in an attempt to make him smile. You know you wouldn’t be able to see him if he had smiled, but the thought of it was enough to keep you occupied. After the Prince bragged about his viola skills for close to an hour, he finally asked what you played.

“Piano, actually. It’s my muse, if you will.” You smile, happy to have finally been included, although it was short lived. The prince then continued to talk about how the Queen could play piano but got sick of it after her sister died and hasn’t played in a very long time. He went on and on about it, and you were starting to wish you had picked up a book on your way in to pass the time.

“Allow me to show you to my favorite section of the library.” The Prince said, forcing you to snap out of your little trance as he held your hand out. You clearly hadn’t been listening for a while because you had no recollection of the previous situation, his voice was very tune-out-able. “I’ve asked the Chaperone and Knight to stay here while I do.” He smiled, and you take his hand, standing from the chair.

“Is that appropriate?” You ask.

“I’m the Prince, I can do what I want.” He shrugs and then proceeds to walk you towards a corner in the library. You look over your shoulder to the Knight one last time before you’re pulled around the corner. “This hall is where I would go when I was mad, isn’t it beautiful?” He asked.

“Yes, it is.” It had mostly desks and only a few bookshelves, but was covered in mirrors on both sides of the walls, showing an endless reflection of thousands of copies of yourself.

“I wanted to give you this, as an engagement present.” He held out a small box wrapped with a blue bow.

“Thank you…” You take the gift out of his hand.

“It was my mother’s.” He said as you untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace of a sapphire stone with a gold halo.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You held up the necklace to your eyes, watching how it sparkled in the light.

“May I put it on you?” He asked. You nod and hand him the jewelry. Turning around and pulling your hair to the side, you feel him hook the necklace, letting the heavy gem sit against your collarbone. You looked down at it.

“It’s incredibly beautiful, Prince Korkie.” You turn around and smile.

“Please, just Korkie.” He said before forcing a kiss on you, pushing his lips into yours forcefully and holding you in place. It startled you, you hadn’t expected this from him, especially considering how kind he had been before. This was your first kiss and was less than pleasant. You push him off you, and look at him in disbelief. You didn’t want to offend him, but couldn’t mask the look of shock and beytrayal from your face. Your stomach filled with regret, it was customary to not kiss one another until your wedding day, why had he broken that tradition? You felt as though it was your fault he forced himself onto you, and you swallowed back the feeling of anger and distrust. If anyone found out you had kissed him before the wedding, they would all blame you, regardless of who initiated the kiss. You both knew this.

“Excuse me…” You huff passed him, returning to the main room of the library and walked towards the door, you heard your Knight follow you close after, and in a fit of confusion and flusterment, you storm as fast as you can towards your room.

When you two got to a more private part of the palace, closer to the suite, you heard him speak up, “Princess, princess what’s wrong?” You hear your knight say, and before you can ignore him, you feel him grab your hand. It isn’t forceful and it doesn’t hurt, but he’s strong, he wouldn’t be letting you go unless he had to. You turn around to show a tear running down your cheek. “What did he do?” The Guard asked. You swallow thickly and try to look away, darting your eyes behind him, “Look at me.” He said.

“I can’t see your eyes.” You sniffle.

“Please, did he hurt you?” He took a step closer to you, your bodies almost flush against one another.

“We can’t do this here-“

“Did he hurt you?” The knight repeats himself, sterner this time.

You look at his helmet and sigh, “No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t concern you.” You were embarrassed, and pull your hand away before walking away, trying to get to your room before bursting into tears. You heard him pick up his pace to catch up and then suddenly he was cutting you off with his body, firmly grabbing your shoulders.

“As your Royal Guard, it does concern me. I told you just this morning that I promised to protect you, and now you’ve gotten hurt twice because of my mistakes.” He said, startling you just a bit. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one had ever shown that they care this much.

“It’s not your fault, really.” You reassure.

“But it is. What did he do to you?”

“It’s… I’m embarrassed. It’s silly and I’ll-“

“Nothing you say could ever be ‘silly’ to me.” He said, his voice hushing as he did, giving you those little goosebumps again.

You sigh, looking up at him and trying to get out your next sentence, “He-he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it and he broke tradition and it was all so… so forced.” You admit, feeling as though he would blame you for the kiss.

“He what?”

“You’re really going to make me repeat myself?” You scoff and push passed him, you were almost to your room, if you could make it just a little further-

“He kissed you?” The knight asked.

“Yes. I told you it’s ridiculous but-“

“It’s… not. Ridiculous, that is. It’s not ridiculous. Did he ask if he could?”

“No…” You reply, “I didn’t think he had to.” You raise an eyebrow. “I just wasn't expecting such a stark betrayal of tradition and it startled me and if anyone else find out, they’ll all blame me-“

“He has no right to lay a single finger on you without your permission. He hurt you, and therefore I’ve failed at my job.” He interrupted you.

“Oh-“ You mutter, finally arriving at your door. He had done that without your consent, he had hurt you. The knight was right all along and you were stupid to not accept his help right away. You wipe a tear away from your cheek and open the door. You take a step in, and hold the door open for him to join you. “I have over an hour before dinner… I’ll have to see him again.” You swallow before closing the door.

“I’ll be there by your side, I won’t leave you again. I won’t let him hurt you like that ever again, I promise.” He was firm and confident with his words, giving you a little wave of relief as he spake them.

“Thank you.” You whipser. You take a deep breath and look at him, “You said he can’t do anything without my permission?”

“Yes. That’s how you protect yourself. Don’t give him power he doesn’t deserve.” The Knight explains.

You exhale sharply, “I had never been kissed before.” You admit, looking down at the floor. “It wasn’t what I expected, to say the least.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t… kisses are special, sacred.” He sounded pained as he said them, like it was hard for him to get the words out.

“Have you kissed anyone?” You ask, considering he had a son, you assumed he had, but never really know unless you ask.

“Yes, once, a long time ago.”

“So you haven’t had that helmet on since birth?” You lighten the mood just a little. You hear him chuckle and your stomach is filled with warmth at the noise.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Can you ever take it off?” You ask, walking over to sit on your bed, listening intently, he takes a step in that direction, too.

“Yes, I take it off to eat and bathe and sleep and sometimes I take it off to talk to my son…” He sighs, “But at work, in the palace, in the eyes of other people, it stays on. Always.This is the way.”

“I still don’t understand why.” You tilt your head.

“It… protects us, it keeps our knighthood separate from our manhood, an it’s an ancient tradition practiced by Mandalorians, we do it to respect the culture.” He nods as he speaks.

“Hm, I half expected you to say it was just because you were ugly.” You giggle, and he shakes his head. This time, you knew he was smiling under all that metal.

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” You could hear his smile in his words. You blush and the butterflies in your stomach only grow. You pause for a moment, carefully considering what you were going to say next.

“Will you… will you kiss me?” You ask, looking up at him, he goes still.

“What?”

“Will you kiss me?” You repeat yourself. He doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake. You wanted him to, you wanted to know what he meant by “kisses are sacred”. He had plagued your mind ever since you first spoke to him and you already have far more affection in your heart for the Knight than for the Prince. You wanted to kiss him.

He sighs in response, and nods once, “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.” You blushed at his agreement.

“Okay.” You say, slowly closing your eyelids and patiently awaiting his next move, feeling triumphant that he agreed. Your body fills with adrenaline as you wait, trying to slow your heart rate with deep breaths.

“Promise to keep them closed?”

“I promise.” You whisper and a few seconds after, you hear the sound of metal hitting metal, and the hollow echo of his helmet being placed on the mattress by where you sit. It took everything in you not to open your eyes, you wanted to look at him, wanted to see his eyes. But you made a promise, you had made promises to each other and had to keep those promises.

Then, ever-so-gently, you feel his warm and forgiving lips against yours.

They’re soft and light, like he didn’t want to hurt you. You melted into his touch, and against your soft skin you felt his stubble run against it. It was rough in the most satisfying and loving sensation possible. He was much kinder than the Prince, so gentle, so true. It wasn’t a very long kiss, but it was more than a peck, and held more passion and intimacy in it than any of the hours you spent with your fiancé combined. He moved just slightly against you, and you felt his bare hand come up to hold your jaw in place as he deepened it for a split second before pulling away. As your lips parted from his, your breath was taken right with them, and you had to consciously remind yourself not to open your eyes.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to remember the feel of his kiss. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, and you wanted another, but before you could ask, you felt the helmet lift off the bed and the sound of gloves being pulled onto hands.

“Open.” He said after a moment, and your eyes fluttered open to see the knighted figure in front of you. “You’re welcome.”

Part three here

[booksandabeer]

For the fic rec asks: 😂, 🛳, and ✨️ please 🥰🥰

(Hope you're having a great day 🤗)

Hello, lovely Tessa! I’m having a great day today, I hope you do, too! Thank you so much for sending this in! 🥰

🛳️ A fic that brought you aboard a new ship

You know I kind of have a one-track mind when it comes to shipping, so it's mostly SteveBucky for me. The only other pairing I started to read regularly over the past year is SamBucky (I might make a separate rec post for that one day because I've since found some really excellent fics). I think the first SamBucky story I read that really convinced me was this one:

Muscle Memory by seapigeon | 13K, 3 parts in series, rated Teen-Explicit

Starts mid-season of TFATWS and then moves beyond that. This is only 13K but it packs such an emotional punch. This is Bucky and Sam dancing around each other, and away from each other, and then finally with each other. Also, I highly recommend everything else written by this author (including a fantastic WIP).

😂 A fic that made you laugh out loud

While we’re at it, let’s do another SamBucky rec:

we're awesome, totally genius by napricot | 4K, Teen

A short and sweet Modern No-Powers AU, in which hot teacher Bucky rescues Sam from a bad date with Tony Stark’s "evil twin". It is wonderful! Napricot is another one of those authors where I can wholeheartedly recommend everything she’s ever written. She has a special talent for taking the crackiest of premises and turning them into something moving and emotionally sincere. And still keep it hilarious! 

✨ A fic you wish you could read again for the first time

Hmmm...I think I would like to get the chance to read some of the “big ones” again for the first time and really savor them this time around. When I first read a lot of them, I was just gorging myself on all things Stucky I could find at the time and so some of them kind of tend to bleed together or I can hardly even remember anything other than...they were really good? But since I want to give some love to lesser known fics, let’s go with:

As Time Goes By by Trouble_With_The_Snap | 66K, Mature

This is a tough read--there are no happy endings here--and I realize that this is not a fic for everybody. In fact, it might not appeal to most people. However, it is one of the best fics I have ever read. I’ll just copy here what I wrote in my bookmark because I think it sums it up best:

A smart & thoughtful investigation into how Steve's Endgame choice would realistically play out. Brutally honest and absolutely devastating without being pointlessly cruel or wholly lacking in compassion towards the characters. Masterfully set up, patiently developed, confidently structured, beautifully written. And the payoff! I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop - and BOY, did it DROP. 

Like I said, you'll need a masochistic streak a mile wide to do this to yourself, but holy shit, it is so, so good. I realize that this may seem like a strange choice for the “I want to experience this all over again” question, but the feeling that came over me when I started to realize what the author was doing here and where it would inevitably lead was just...I was floored.

This was fun! Let’s do it again some time! You can always ask for more recs outside of this ask game.

[cacodaemonia]

Hi Caco!! Thank you so much for answering all of these asks you’ve been getting and I’m sorry to add one more 😅

I was wondering if you had any tips for engaging more with fandom content besides reblogging with tags and comments. I’m not the greatest at doing that but I’m definitely working on it. And I want to try to get more involved as much as I’m able to.

I’m a writer mostly and definitely can’t draw people so it’s been a little hard for me to put myself out there besides joining big discord’s (which are a lot of fun and I have met some cool people and friends on there).

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I love your art and you as well as @leeleebee @alamogirl80 @anstarwar @cobaltbeam and @three-fold-symmetry have inspired me to start trying to draw again. I’ve made a few fun designs on Paint and I’m thinking of putting a few on Redbubble just for fun. I love art and I love seeing your wips and how a piece is developed. Plus all of your stories. I wish I could write long fics and world build half as well as you. Anyway, I just really admire you and thank you for being a bright spot in the fandom and making this little corner more enjoyable for everyone.

Hello! :D

Aw, no, thank you for the ask! They are a bit time consuming because they all make great points and I think about my replies for a while, but I don't mind!

Hm, I dunno! Personally, I really love screamy tags, haha, but I don't usually reply to those. I do reply to all the comments I get on Tumblr and AO3, so maybe that's more the type of engagement you're talking about? Other people might feel differently though (if anyone has any tips, maybe comment and anon might see them? <3).

I've always been a fandom artist, until less than a year ago when I started writing, so I really don't know what it's like to not get the kind of attention that art tends to get (versus writing) on Tumblr. But I imagine it's a lot harder to encourage interaction on here if you don't post art. That said, there are quite a few folks I know on here who either don't create content, or only write (and of course I don't say 'only' in a belittling way, as I personally value writing over visual art, but anyway), but because I read their tags or they comment on my stuff, when I see their usernames I'm like, "MY FRIEND!" XD

As or discord, I have trouble engaging on big servers because I just can't keep track of constantly changing usernames and conversations and 50 channels blargh. What's been really great for me is having a tiny little server with just some close friends - but of course, you have to find your people, first, which can be hard.

I'm totally rambling now, but if anyone has advice, again, please comment!

Okay so now I'm just going to scream incoherently about that last paragraph you wrote! T___T Too kind!! I'm in such good company... *sobbing* Seriously though, when I read this ask before bed last night I got teary eyed, haha.

I know visual art isn't for everyone but it makes me so happy when people are willing to try, even though we all suck when we start out and it's frustrating as hell most of the time, haha. But if you enjoy it enough to push through the frustration, then that's great! <3

ghakgh;rkg as for writing, I literally wrote one crap fic in... idk maybe 2001? And I never wrote fiction again until a little less than a year ago. So while I still have no idea what I'm doing, I can confidently say that, a year ago, I was telling friends, "I wish I could write long fics and world build half as well as you." And I'm sure I still don't, but I'm doing it and enjoying it, so :D

This is getting ridiculously long, but I just have to say that without all the nice people in the fandom, I wouldn't bother with it at all! So I share credit with you and every other lovely person in our little corner. <3333

[kjack89]

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 9/14)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage fic. I feel confident enough in the remainder of my outline to finally put the end chapter number up top, though of course, it’s subject to change because I’m, you know, me. (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3, chapter 5 tumblr | AO3, chapter 6 tumblr | AO3, chapter 7 tumblr | AO3, chapter 8 tumblr | AO3)

Rarely has this Author been so inundated with the same piece of news, and so while most readers likely already know this, it must still be reported for those apparently unaware or living under a rock: the Marquess of Enjolras has made his triumphant return to the city.

But those hoping to catch a glimpse of the new Marchioness will find themselves disappointed: the Marchioness has returned to her family home, having apparently fallen ill while on her honeymoon. Still, there is plenty of time left in the season for her to make an appearance, so all hope is not lost.

And while she has not yet taken her place in the Enjolras manor, this Author has learned that her brother has been invited to stay with the Marquess, a move that gives no credence to the rumors that the two have fallen out ahead of the Marquess’s marriage to Mr. Grantaire’s sister. Indeed, if anything, the pair’s unlikely friendship seems only stronger now, which only proves that the marriage mart truly does make strange bedfellows.

Far more important than their living situation, of course, is the annual de Courfeyrac ball this very evening. With the Marquess back in town, he is certain to attend, and this Author is equally certain that even without his new bride to accompany him, all eyes will surely be on the one bachelor who got away…LADY WHISTELDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 14 MAY 1831

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m not fidgeting,” Enjolras grumbled, though he reluctantly stopped playing with the cuff of his shirtsleeves. 

Grantaire rolled his eyes as the receiving line at the de Courfeyrac Ball inched forward. “You are so,” he said in an undertone. “And leave your damned cravat alone, it took me near a quarter hour to get it to lay right.”

Enjolras had barely even starting to reach up to adjust his cravat, and his hand fell back to his side as he gave Grantaire a look. “Yes, but only because you were the one who untied it in the first place.”

As Grantaire had indeed been the one who had untied it, in the carriage ride over to the de Courfeyrac manor, mostly to give himself better access to Enjolras’s neck, his self-satisfied grin was somewhat to be expected. “Yes, well, can you really blame me?” he murmured, eyeing Enjolras appreciatively. “I know you hate formal dress, but by God, man, you were made to wear an evening coat.”

Enjolras could not help but preen at that, just a little, even as he warned Grantaire teasingly, “Keep looking at me like that and our cover will be blown sooner than you think.”

Grantaire just laughed lightly. “Please,” he said dismissively. “I’ve been looking at you like this for ten years now with none the wiser.” He paused and considered it. “Or at least, with none willing to comment on it, and I doubt very much that would change now.”

But Enjolras was still focused on the first part of what Grantaire had said. “You’ve really been looking at me like this for a decade?”

Grantaire smirked. “Again, can you blame me?”

Enjolras hesitated, wondering for not the first time what it had been like for Grantaire, to love him as he had for as long as he had, and with Enjolras among those none the wiser. “Does it bother you that I never noticed?”

“I think it would have bothered me more if you had,” Grantaire said, sounding a little surprised by the question. “I wasn’t ready for you to know before.”

“And now?”

Grantaire shrugged, a little helplessly. “Well, that cat’s quite out of the bag regardless, isn’t it?” he asked, before his voice softened, just slightly. “Besides, no matter how prepared I was, it was worth it in the end.”

Enjolras smiled as well. “Keep talking like that and I might be tempted to do something untowards,” he murmured, bending his head toward Grantaire.

“Scandalous,” Grantaire said, with a wicked smirk. “Besides, keep talking like that and I might just let you.”

Enjolras let out a laugh, but his amusement did not last long. As the line barely moved, he could not help but bounce on the balls of his feet, trying to glance over the top of the receiving line. “I wish Courf would just let us go in with having to go through the whole thing,” he muttered.

“Yes, I too wish my friends would allow me to break all social protocol just because I dread having to sit through it,” Grantaire said wryly. “But alas, seeing as how we live in the real world…”

He trailed off as the line started moving again, and finally, with only a few more minutes’ delay, Enjolras and Grantaire were at the front of the receiving line. “Enjolras!” Courfeyrac called, sounding elated, and he grasped Enjolras by both shoulders before leaning in and kissing both his cheeks. “And Grantaire!” To Enjolras’s surprise, he embraced Grantaire in much the same way – and judging by Grantaire’s wide eyes, he was equally surprised.

“Christ, Courfeyrac, have you been borrowing Jehan’s opium?” Grantaire muttered when Courfeyrac finally released him.

Courfeyrac ignored him, just beaming at both of them. “From brothers in arms to brothers in law!” he trilled, clapping his hands together. “What an unexpected twist to this tale. Enjolras, you must find me later and fill me in on the details.”

Enjolras tried to smile, though he was pretty sure it looked more like a wince. “I am certain you would track me down if I didn’t.”

Courfeyrac laughed loudly and waved them through. For as long as he had waited to finally get inside, Enjolras found himself hesitating at the ballroom entrance, dreading what welcome awaited him within in the wake of his ‘scandal’ and marriage.

As if sensing exactly what he was feeling, Grantaire found his hand and covertly squeezed it, his own hand warm and strong in Enjolras’s. “Be easy,” he whispered in Enjolras’s ear, and for the first time all evening, Enjolras relaxed, just slightly.

Of course, he tensed once again when they finally entered the ballroom, and the first person Enjolras saw across the way was Combeferre. He reached out blindly for Grantaire’s arm, gripping his elbow harder than he likely needed to. 

This was always going to be the hardest part of their charade, as Enjolras had confided in Grantaire the previous night as they lay together in his bed, neither one tired enough yet to fall asleep. “I don’t know what to tell Combeferre and Courfeyrac,” he had confessed, turning so that he was facing Grantaire.

“What were you planning on telling them before?” Grantaire had asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Before what?” Enjolras had asked.

Grantaire had given him a look. “Before, when it was just a straightforward fictional marriage,” he said dryly.

“Oh.” Enjolras flushed slightly. “Frankly, I hadn’t given it much thought. I was certainly going to allude to the arrangement solving certain matters with my mother, and let them draw their own conclusions.”

“And that same answer will no longer suffice?”

Enjolras had drawn Grantaire close to kiss him lightly. “Frankly, I suspect my interactions with you will undermine the credibility of that explanation. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are not stupid, and decidedly more observant than myself.”

Grantaire’s expression softened. “Then we need not interact in front of them,” he had said quietly. “I am overdue in seeing Joly and Bossuet, and it is not as if any of our friends expects me to be at your side all evening. Or at all, frankly.”

While Enjolras had agreed at the time, now, faced with the reality of the situation, he wanted nothing more than Grantaire to stay at his side. But Grantaire was already pulling away, even as the look he gave Enjolras was gentle, and understanding. “They’re your friends,” he reminded Enjolras in an undertone.

“They’re your friends as well,” Enjolras muttered. “And they will likely forgive neither of us for the deception.”

“Forgive? Perhaps not, or at least not immediately. But they will understand.”

“Will they?” Enjolras asked, more rhetorical than anything, and mostly because Grantaire had already abandoned him, making a beeline to where Joly and Bossuet were talking quietly together in the corner.

With no excuse left, Enjolras crossed to where Combeferre waited, feeling more nervous than he frankly expected to be. Combeferre’s expression was completely neutral as he approached, which did not help Enjolras’s nerves. “Hello,” Combeferre said when Enjolras finally reached him. “Long time no see. Anything new with you?”

Enjolras laughed lightly. Combeferre’s dry humor had never before failed to put him at ease, and this was no exception. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that,” he said airily before adding, in a more serious tone, “I certainly doubt either you or I were expecting the events of the past few weeks.”

“After the scene your mother made at the Musain?” Combeferre returned with an arched eyebrow. “I expected you married within the fortnight. Grantaire’s sister was a twist I did not see coming.”

Enjolras shrugged, avoiding meeting Combeferre’s eyes. “Yes, well. A twist, but perhaps not as unpleasant a one as some would expect.”

Combeferre nodded slowly, looking at him closely. “Whatever anyone may say, you seem happy,” he remarked.

“Well, I am rid of my mother,” Enjolras said. “Or will be, once I hand over the dowry.”

Combeferre’s expression didn’t change as he took a sip of his drink. “I didn’t say you seemed relieved. I said you seem happy.”

As usual, Combeferre saw right through him, and Enjolras took a moment to compose his answer, opting for as much of the truth as he could give. “I suppose I am happy,” he said. “It’s...freeing, in a way, to know that part of my future is settled.”

“To be free,” Combeferre murmured. “What greater thing is there.”

Enjolras smiled. “Precisely.”

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Well, if you are happy, then I am happy,” he assured Enjolras, before adding, in a slightly disapproving tone, “Of course, Grantaire’s going to be a bit insufferable for awhile, I suppose.”

Enjolras felt his heart stop. Had Combeferre figured them out so quickly? “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “Surely you realize – you’ve rather elevated his status.”

“In what way?”

“By marrying his sister, he is now brother-in-law to a marquess,” Combeferre said slowly, and Enjolras felt immediate relief that he had not figured him out. “Which may very well make him the most eligible bachelor here. A fact I’m certain he’s realized, even if you haven’t.”

He nodded towards the corner that Grantaire had headed to, but where previously he’d been in conversation with Joly and Bossuet, now they seemed surrounded by numerous young women. Enjolras’s initial relief was replaced by a pit in his stomach as he watched one such lady laugh, touching Grantaire’s arm in a way that made Enjolras’s vision go red.

Combeferre, as he always seemed to be, was correct. Before, Grantaire had been notorious as a rake whose sole redeeming quality was association with many powerful peers and gentry. But now, while he may still offer no title, he offered societal status that far too many mothers would crave for their daughters.

And even though Grantaire seemed quite convinced of his affection for Enjolras, there was little doubt that this could change things. After all, while Enjolras would get no enjoyment from marriage to any woman in the entire city, Grantaire very well might.

He was so busy watching Grantaire flirt (or at least, not automatically brush the young women off, which was tantamount to the same thing in Enjolras’s mind) that he barely noticed when Combeferre was pulled into a different conversation entirely, leaving him standing alone. It ended up for the best, though, as he then had no need to make an excuse for crossing the ballroom, making a beeline for Grantaire.

But he was intercepted on his way by Éponine Thenárdier, who blocked his path entirely. “Lord Enjolras,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Enjolras jerked a nod. “Miss Thenárdier,” he muttered, trying in vain to sidestep her, but she moved swiftly to again block his path. 

“You must allow me to congratulate you on your nuptials,” she told him, her tone saccharine. “I wish you nothing but happiness, no matter how surprising the event was.”

Internally, Enjolras rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that she was trying to goad him into sharing details that would almost invariably make their way into Lady Whistledown the moment he spoke them. Externally, he forced a smile that almost certainly looked more like a grimace. “I’m not certain there’s much of a causal link between surprise and happiness, but thank you nonetheless.”

Éponine laughed lightly. “But where is your lovely bride this evening?”

She almost certainly already knew the answer, having undoubtedly read about it like everyone else had in Lady Whistledown, but Enjolras nonetheless gritted his teeth and told her, “I’m afraid she is ill, and staying at her family home in the country until she recovers.”

“Oh, how dreadful,” she said, though Enjolras noted she didn’t sound particularly upset by the news. “And we were all so eager to meet her.”

“I’m sure you were,” Enjolras muttered, before Grantaire appeared without warning at his side.

“Isn’t it a lovely ball?” he asked, so brightly that Enjolras wondered for a moment if he had been hit in the head – or been hitting the whiskey already. “It is as if someone has unhooked the stars and put them on the table in the guise of candles, don’t you think?”

Éponine’s smile slipped, for just a moment. “Indeed,” she murmured politely, but the look she gave Grantaire was icy as she swept away, clearly put out at having her attempted interrogation so rudely interrupted.

Grantaire smirked as he watched her leave, resting his hand on Enjolras’s back, a little too low to be entirely proper. “The trick,” he murmured in Enjolras’s ear, “is to be so banal that absolutely no one wishes to continue the conversation.”

Despite himself and the jealousy he could still feel, Enjolras was unable to stop his smile. “Is that your secret?” he asked in an undertone.

“My secret is usually to get drunk as quickly as possible and then disappear without saying goodbye,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “But as I am in polite company—” He nodded his head graciously at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes affectionately. “—we must make do together.”

And indeed they did. Enjolras was shocked to find that Grantaire’s trick of not providing any details about his fictional wife and instead speaking of the decor, or the weather, or something equally boring was enough to forestall almost all conversation that followed. It helped, he realized, as he and Grantaire made the rounds together, that far fewer young women and their mothers attempted to monopolize his time or beg him for a dance, almost certainly because they had set their sights on more available targets, and the ones that did want to make conversation were after gossip, like Éponine, and easily thwarted.

But neither was what really made the evening bearable; instead, it was Grantaire who proved the difference in the evening.. Grantaire, always quick with a quip or scathing observation under his breath, who stayed by his side despite the invitations to dance that he received. Grantaire, who knew without Enjolras needing to say a word when they needed to stop for refreshments or be pulled away from the conversation. Grantaire, who was as easy a companion as Enjolras had ever had.

And Grantaire who was, according to Combeferre at least, now the most eligible bachelor in the place.

As much as Grantaire was turning this most dreaded part of his social obligations into, perhaps not the most anticipated, but at least something that could be enjoyed rather than merely endured, Enjolras could not shake what Combeferre had said, or the pit that formed in his stomach when he thought about it.

“Is everything alright?” Grantaire asked an hour or so later, his brow furrowed as he looked at Enjolras.

“Fine,” Enjolras said quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Just a bit warm in here, do you not think?”

Grantaire studied him closely for a moment. “Perhaps we should step out onto the balcony,” he suggested. “Get some air.”

“That sounds like a good—”

“There you are!” Courfeyrac exclaimed with his usual exuberance as he joined them, oblivious to how close Enjolras had been to escaping. “As promised, since you did not come find me later as requested, I have instead hunted you down. And Grantaire is still at your side, how lovely.”

“Not for long,” Grantaire said, ignoring the pleading look Enjolras shot him. “I’m due for a refill. Anything for either of you?”

He did not wait for a reply, leaving Enjolras alone with Courfeyrac, whose smile had sharpened. “Come now, you can afford to look a little less panicked,” he said innocently, looping his arm through Enjolras’s. “After all, people will think you don’t wish to speak to one of your oldest friends.”

“Speak with, or be interrogated by?” Enjolras muttered.

Courfeyrac’s grin widened. “Potato, po-tah-to.” He patted Enjolras’s arm reassuringly. “But truly, more the former than the latter. Too many prying ears, and I’d rather learn the details of your scandal where they can’t be transmitted to the inimitable Lady Whistledown.”

Enjolras snorted. “Yes, that would be a shame,” he said dryly.

But something in his tone made Courfeyrac pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Enjolras. “I was hardly anticipating you being the model of wedded bliss, but you seem far too downtrodden for someone who must no longer put up with the marriage mart. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Enjolras said, by instinct alone, and when Courfeyrac just looked at him, he sighed and relented. “Just something Combeferre said.”

He was expecting Courfeyrac to demand details, details that Enjolras would not be able to share without revealing the truth, but to his surprise, Courfeyrac just rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, ignore him,” he said. “He’s just jealous.”

Enjolras frowned. “Jealous?” he repeated. “Of what?”.

Courfeyrac looked at him as if the answer was obvious. “He thinks he’s been replaced, you fool,” he said impatiently, and when Enjolras still looked confused, added, “As your best friend. By Grantaire.”

The statement was so absurd that Enjolras barked a laugh before realizing Courfeyrac was entirely serious. “Really?” he asked derisively. “Forgive me, I did not realize we were still in the nursery.”

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Perhaps not, but you cannot deny that he used to be your partner in crime when it came to your schemes.” He gave Enjolras an appraising look. “And whatever else you may say, you and I, I think, can acknowledge that this is a scheme of some variety, though of which, I could not say.”

Enjolras felt stricken at the realization of how Combeferre had interpreted his involvement with Grantaire, which, of course, couldn’t be further from the truth. “I never thought—”

Courfeyrac patted his arm. “Of course you didn’t.”

Enjolras sighed and tugged his arm out of Courfeyrac’s grip. “Still, I should go apologize.”

“You should do no such thing,” Courfeyrac said firmly, turning to face him head on. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but even if you had, actions speak louder than words. Spend some time planning with him before the next Les Amis gathering, and all will be forgiven.”

“But not forgotten.”

Courfeyrac just looked amused. “My dear fellow, none of us, I think, will be able to forget the moment when you and Grantaire finally stopped trying to kill each other using just your words.” His expression softened. “And believe me, no matter what Combeferre may say, we’re all quite grateful that you have.” His eyebrows raised. “Speaking of Grantaire, I believe he wants a word.”

He nodded over Enjolras’s shoulder, and Enjolras turned to find Grantaire, holding two glasses of champagne and gesturing with his head toward the door that led out to the balcony. Enjolras nodded his understanding, and turned back to Courfeyrac, who had already disappeared into the crowd.

Enjolras crossed to the balcony door as quickly as possible to avoid being waylaid once more, and this time, he was successful. Never had he been so relieved to find himself alone and out of doors, even if the night was unseasonably cold. Grantaire laughed lightly from where he was leaning against the balcony railing. “You look like you need this more than I do,” he said, offering Enjolras one of the glasses of champagne.

Enjolras took it gratefully and drained it in one long gulp. “I did need that,” he told Grantaire, setting the empty glass down on the flat top of the wide marble balustrade. “I suppose I did not fully appreciate how complicated this all was going to be on my return.”

Grantaire eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “Curious,” he said lightly. “You normally think through every detail before you take any action.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Desperation apparently made me less thorough,” he said. “And, of course, there were unanticipated complications along the way that I did not account for.”

Grantaire let out a light, humorless laugh. “Am I to assume that I am one of those complications?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, not seeing any point in sugarcoating the truth. “Though a mostly welcome complication.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Who would have thought the word ‘mostly’ could feel like a dagger being driven into me,” he murmured, though he also hastened to add, “I jest, I jest.”

Enjolras traced a finger along the line of the balustrade. “I did not intend to hurt you by saying it,” he said heavily. “Only I think we need to be honest with one another.”

Grantaire searched his expression for a long moment. “I have been entirely honest with you,” he said carefully. “So if there is anyone with something to hide…”

He trailed off, looking at Enjolras expectantly. “Not to hide,” Enjolras hedged. “But one of the complications I did not anticipate has revealed itself this evening, and that is related to your social standing.”

Grantaire blinked. “My— what?”

“Combeferre pointed out that by me marrying your sister, your status has risen to one of the most eligible bachelors,” Enjolras explained. “And that knowledge complicates things.”

“How so?” Grantaire asked, his brow furrowed. 

Enjolras shrugged, avoiding Grantaire’s eyes. “You have...options now, I suppose,” he muttered. “Real options, for a real marriage.” He hesitated before adding, “Options that I would not discourage you from exploring.”

Grantaire nodded slowly, turning to stare out at the sprawling grounds that surrounded the manner. After a long moment, he asked softly, “Am I being thrown over, then?”

“What?” Enjolras asked, confused.

“Is this your rather inelegant attempt to be rid of me?” Grantaire asked, his voice brittle. “Trying to soften the blow by intimating that I now have ‘options’?”

Enjolras stared blankly at him. “Of course not,” he spluttered. “That’s not at all what—”

“Then tell me,” Grantaire interrupted, “when I told you, multiple times now, that I love you, did you think I was speaking falsely?”

Enjolras scowled. “Not at all, but you did not know all the facts then!”

“And what facts could possibly matter in this regard?”

“The fact that you have a real chance to make a marriage match that would improve your standing and your family’s standing!” Enjolras snapped, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was angry, and especially at Grantaire. “You could secure a future for your lineage that any man would be envious of. It’s why most men put themselves through these torturous affairs.” 

Grantaire just shook his head. “Most men, but not you, and certainly not me,” he said quietly.

Something in his tone caused Enjolras to deflate, but it also allowed him to realize why he was so angry, or more accurately, at whom he was so angry: himself. He had dragged Grantaire down this path, and this was perhaps the last real opportunity that either had to part ways before irreparable damage was done. “Think of what you are saying,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I cannot offer you anything, not my name, not my title, not even the promise of the future if we are discovered. You deserve so much more than that.”

Grantaire shook his head again, but slower this time, and with a crooked sort of smile. “You can offer me the only thing I have ever wanted: you,” he said simply. “There is no one on Earth who can offer me more than that.” Enjolras shook his head, ready to interrupt, but Grantaire did not let him. “Do not seek to dismiss my words, when I mean every one of them. There is no happiness that I would find now with any other, not now that I know what true happiness is. Not now when I know what true love is.”

The breath caught in Enjolras’s throat, and for a moment, he could not speak. If he had been waiting for the perfect moment to finally tell Grantaire that he loved him, he knew he would never find one better than this. The music from the waltz taking place inside the ballroom swelled, and Enjolras leaned in toward Grantaire, reaching out to lightly cover Grantaire’s hand resting on the railing with his own. “Grantaire,” he started, his voice soft, “I—”

But before he could get the two most important words out, the doors to the balcony banged open, and Enjolras and Grantaire instinctively moved apart as two giggling couples spilled out of the ballroom.

The moment was thoroughly ruined, which perhaps explained the face Grantaire made as he turned back to Enjolras. “Shall we consider this our sign to adjourn for the evening?”

“Yes please,” Enjolras said with a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived, however, as a current of tension resonated between them as they made their way back through the ballroom and then waited out front until his carriage pulled around. As soon as they were inside and en route back to his place, Enjolras cleared his throat. “Shall we continue our conversation?”

Grantaire sighed. “I did not realize there was more to say.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “There is always more to say.”

“That should really be your family motto,” Grantaire muttered. “Plus semper est dicere.”

“I don’t think that’s an accurate translation,” Enjolras said mildly. “Though at least it’d probably be more appropriate than my actual family motto, Nox finiet.”

“Perhaps I’ll have Marius figure out the correct translation, then, and we can have it engraved on our stationary.”

Ordinarily, Enjolras probably would have laughed, but now, Grantaire’s attempt at glib just fell flat. “Grantaire—”

Grantaire ignored him. “After all, my family is too new amongst the gentry to have a motto of our own. Of course, if I ever got to pick a family motto, I’d probably choose Fidelitas usque ad mortem.”

His words were pointed, and Enjolras swallowed, hard. “Faithful until death.”

Grantaire met his gaze steadily. “And I aim to be.”

“I do not doubt that you will be,” Enjolras said quietly. “I only wish that you would consider what your loyalty will cost you.”

Grantaire reached out and took his hand. “Even if it costs me everything in this life and the next, it will be more than worth it.” He raised Enjolras’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “If you will have me, at least.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand, but before he could respond, the carriage jolted to a stop, and he glanced outside. “We’re home already?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

Grantaire just chuckled lightly. “One day we’ll figure out our timing,” he said before stepping out of the carriage and turning to help Enjolras down.

But Enjolras was not so willing to surrender the moment this time. As soon as his driver had left, he grabbed Grantaire’s hand, pulling him away from the lamplight at the door. “Before we go in, there’s something that I wished to say.”

“Something so secret you dare not speak it in earshot of your servants?” Grantaire asked, amused.

“Be serious,” Enjolras said with a frown.

Grantaire just smiled at him, his eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “I am wild.”

“Grantaire…”

“Fine, fine,” Grantaire said, chuckling. “What is it you wished to say?”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “Only that our time together has meant more to me than I ever thought it could. Not just our time up north, when it was just the two of us. But our time tonight as well. “

“Even when we were quarreling?” Grantaire asked.

“Especially when we were quarreling,” Enjolras said firmly. “Because our quarrel came from us wanting the best for each other.” He took both of Grantaire’s hands in his. “I do not know what the future holds, but I know that I want you in it, options be damned. Besides, with you at my side, I’m beginning to think anything is possible.”

Grantaire was quiet for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed Enjolras gently. “I may not share your belief in possibility, but I too have valued our time together,” he said softly. “It is everything I always dreamt it would be, and so much more.”

Enjolras laughed breathily. “You dismiss my belief in possibility, only to speak of dreams?”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Possibility speaks to hope,” he said with a shrug. “I never hoped my dreams would come true, though I am gladder than words can say that they have. That they are.” He squeezed Enjolras’s hands. “And who knows, you may make a believer out of me yet.”

This was Enjolras’s moment, and he took a deep breath, ready to finally say those three words he knew Grantaire wanted to hear more than anything else. “Grantaire, I—”

“Lord Enjolras?”

Enjolras could not stop the groan that escaped from his lips as he let go of Grantaire’s hands at the sound of his butler’s voice. “What is it, Porter?” he asked tiredly, taking a step towards the now-open door.

Porter cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon for the interruption,” he said, “but we’ve received word from the Marchioness.” Enjolras and Grantaire exchanged startled glances, and Porter corrected himself. “Beg pardon, the Dowager Marchioness. Your mother.”

Enjolras felt the blood drain from his face. “Christ,” he muttered. “What does she want?”

“She is planning on visiting tomorrow morning,” Porter said, glancing at Grantaire before looking back at Enjolras. “And I thought you would want to know immediately so that, ah, arrangements can be made.”

Not for the first time, Enjolras wondered how much Porter had surmised of what was going on between himself and Grantaire, and decided quickly that he cared less than making sure his mother knew absolutely nothing. “You were correct, Porter, thank you,” he said, and Porter nodded before closing the door again. 

Enjolras sighed and looked back at Grantaire, but before he could say anything, Grantaire cleared his throat. “I should spend the night at mine tonight,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “The last thing you need is to start your conversation with your mother with an explanation for our unusual living arrangement.”

“I know that you’re almost certainly right, but I wish to God you weren’t,” Enjolras said, reaching out to draw Grantaire close. “I need you on my side against her.”

Grantaire just laughed and tilted his head up to kiss Enjolras, a quick, fleeting kiss. “You will be fine,” he said with far more confidence than Enjolras felt. “I promise that I will be back tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, but before or after my mother leaves?” Enjolras muttered mutinously.

Grantaire laughed again and pressed one more kiss to Enjolras’s lips. “I love you,” he murmured before stepping away. “And I will see you in the morning.”

Enjolras watched him go, dreading the next morning and wishing more than anything that he had not waited until Grantaire was out of earshot to finally reply, “I love you, too.”

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Penumbra

Penumbra has 9 stories at Gossamer and 1 at AO3. You can find her complete catalogue here. If you’ve read any X-Files fic, surely you have read at least one of her stories. If not, why not? Some wondrous places to start are Parabiosis, Contact High, Black Hole Season, and Heuvelmans’ On the Track. Big thanks to Penumbra for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

In a way, yes. There are no precedents for what happened to us with XF fandom, and in the late aughts it all seemed to be over. I got out and never looked back, haha. What really surprised me was to find, all these years on, that there are still X-Philes, although it does make sense they’d seek out those wonderful old fics we wrote.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

Let's be honest, in my Penumbra days I was in a bad situation, the X-Files was a coping mechanism, and Mulder and Scully's relationship an idealization. I latched onto it as only a lonely obsessive can. The X-Files withholds; it opens up metamagical voids; it isolates while simultaneously plunging one into an ethereal community. It’s the tattoo I deserve.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

The X-Files forced me to get online. Computers weren’t a part of my life, so I sneaked into the local university comp labs and figured it out. It was absolutely terrifying, like landing a space capsule, and I didn’t have ID and lived in fear of being caught. The first thing I typed into a computer was ‘X-Files’. So renegade! My heart was pounding and I thought sirens might sound and fire doors engage.

The Fox site had an X-Files forum that was utter pandemonium. Glorious and scary. At that time, I was one of the many Starbucks. The people on atxc seemed way too smart and opinionated. It was hard to even get membership in forums; they were heavily moderated. Mostly I remember lots of email friendships. Sometimes a kindly mature Phile would reach down from the ether with some words of wisdom. A. I. Irving was one. She was dealing with M.S., and writing fic while she still could. It is with an enormous sense of poignancy that I think of the people who were the ‘adults’ of the fandom then. Now I’m ancient in Phile years, but at the time I was just a clueless twenty-something, looking up to all those greats.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

Wow, as WE ALL KNOW, discovering X-Files fanfic was a revelation. Whew! I thought: stand back, the professionals are handling this. The authors were about as human as Greek gods. Eventually it dawned on me that anyone could write it.

The first fic I wrote was HORRIBLE. I put a link to it on my site, so that people can get a little hit of schadenfreude. Those early stories were on shaky footing. I had no confidence in myself. I felt intimidated writing about sophisticated, highly-educated career people when I was none of those things. Heck, I was cleaning motel rooms. I'm still none of those things, but, through Mulder and Scully, I've lived that life a little bit, and it was fun.

The third story, 'Contact High', was all sex and drugs. I’d done acid and shrooms, so finally, a subject I could assert some authority over! I decided to just go for it. That abandon was a breakthrough, and Penumbra came into being. But there was so much going on inside me, it was hardly harnessable; as stories like ‘Vespers’ and ‘Black Hole Season’ show, it was like getting on a horse that you can't control and just clinging to its neck as it gallops.

This time around, in my latest incarnation, I feel that I have a better perspective on Mulder and Scully, more of an even footing. I’ve been through a lot, and in 'Hotel-Zero', I wanted to demonstrate not just how to survive, but how to survive as yourself. I wanted to maybe create a sort of handbook for how to keep your head above water. Life is hard for all of us, people are hard on us. You need to keep a singular perspective on yourself, and allow no one modify it.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I’ve had two separate experiences, with a seven-year hiatus, and I wouldn't have missed either of them for the world. Belonging to an obscure hive mind has been one of the most interesting and rewarding (not to mention super-secret) facets of my life, and that will always be my overall takeaway as an X-Phile.

However, as the fandom imploded there was understandable backlash against the whole Penumbra thing. The panegyric was just too much, the style definitely overblown. I posted 'Fathoms Five' as things were melting down, and there was real outrage. People were boycotting it as a political statement. Oh, we were all so raw—the X-Files was ending and IWTB was a heartbreaker. At that point I’d been working on 'Heuvelmans’ for a couple of years and was forced to admit I couldn’t finish it, nor would it be well-accepted if I did. So you can sort of see the baggage I was carrying when I left the fandom, not to mention the creative angst.

Three things brought me back:

1. They started filming the Revival. I flipped out at the thought of seeing Mulder and Scully again.

2. @perplexistan contacted me, and I realized there was a frisky pack of Philes on tumblr. Philes are my people, that’s just a fact.

3. I read @teethnbone’s ‘Das Ding’, which zapped at my temples like thunderstorm electrodes. So, there I was, in a trance, making the Devil’s Tower out of mashed potatoes.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

No, I would consider it a sacrilege. I have loved and admired many other television series, but writing X-Files fic for Philes has been too extraordinary an experience to dilute. I have a zillion obsessions, but for only one am I fannish.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I just finished up that monster oldie called ‘Heuvelmans’ On the Track’, under the name The Mythopoeic. It’s on AO3. I have a couple of obscure side projects with a writing buddy. And I have another old fic called ‘Blue Ruin’, a cancer arc fic I’d like to finish someday.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

It is very nice. People are gentle and welcoming. Philes used to criticize stories mercilessly and authoritatively, but you don’t see that a lot anymore.  I have plenty of outside projects, so I am trying to ease away, you know, like taking off your shoes to slip out of the room after the baby’s fallen asleep.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I’d like each one of you to know that your belief in me changed my life and saved me a thousand times over.

(Posted by Lilydale on December 8, 2020)