#very wistful looking through it

[somnimagus]

My page for @destinytriofanzine! I drew something about kids always dreaming of far off places

[id in alt!]

[luveline]

your bombshell!reader x spencer is feeding me so well, i'm obsessed!! SJSJS since we've seen reader jealous, is it possible to have a fic where it's spencer that's jealous?

thank u!! fem!reader

Your outfit today is simple. Pencil skirt, dark stockings, hair pristine. The thing that catches Spencer's attention, holds it between two squeezing palms, is the shirt and blazer ensemble you've styled. It's cut to fit, sleek and dark and hard to look away from. 

You brush past the back of Hotch's chair with a sigh, clearly unaware of the attention you're garnering from across the way. “What's wrong with him?” you ask. 

“The same thing as usual,” Hotch says. 

“It's not like we've ever instantly solved a case. Gideon knows this takes time.”

Elle pokes her tongue into her cheek, eyes flared wide. She says a lot without saying anything, flicking through the police files in front of her dispassionately.

“How come you stayed?”

It takes Spencer a moment to realise you're talking to him. “What?” 

“You didn't go with Gideon?” You hold your chin in your hand. “Not getting along anymore?” 

Spencer isn't not getting along with his mentor. He would've accompanied Gideon to meet with a past mass murderer, only you're here, and so he'd found unrelated reasons to stay. 

“We're fine,” Spencer says, not wanting to say more and give himself away. 

“Well, he took Morgan.” You pout, your voice dripping to a wistful whine. “What am I gonna do now without him? None of you guys ever wanna play with me.” 

Hotch smiles to himself. Spencer's stomach ties itself in knots, a tight noose that grows tighter still when you notice his expression and lean in toward your superior. “What's that smile for, Hotchner?” 

“Don't you have emails to look through?”  

You hold your cheek in your hand lightly, fingertips digging into the soft of your cheek. Your smile is like a kick to the chest, achingly sweet on such a pretty face. “No…” Your pinky digs into the corner of your mouth. “I don't remember that being on my agenda today.” 

“Consider it an addition.” 

Is Hotch flirting back? Spencer isn't sure why that strikes him so hard. Maybe because Hotch would actually have a chance with you if he wanted it; your flirting with Hotch is more real than if it were with Spencer, because Spencer is a twenty-something know-it-all who still dresses like his mom buys his clothes. 

“It's a lot of emails, boss,” you say. 

“You have time. Start with the ones sent by Hughes and work your way down.” Hotch slides the login information across the desk into your reach. 

You look at it unhappily. Look up at him. 

Just being looked at by you is a full body experience. Whenever you look at him, he begs himself to play it cool as Hotch is now, to treat it as the affectionate playfulness of a friend rather than serious flirting. He'd have a better chance of being taken seriously by you if he didn't blush whenever you so much as breathed in the same room. 

He wishes he could respond calmly like Hotch. (He wishes you'd flirt with him and him alone. He buries that deep.) 

Envy eats at his hands. Pins and needles he tries to shake away. His movements draw your attention, and your smile worsens, which is to say sweetens, like seeing him again is a treat for the eyes. 

“You'll help me, won't you, baby?” you ask.

He goes a little blind. 

Hotch and Elle watch the encounter with similar parts pity and amusement. 

“You can read through them so quickly, I could really use your…” —you drag your fingertips down your face until your nails are at your jaw— “expertise.” 

“Reid has his own tasks–” 

“I can help,” Spencer interrupts.��

You drop your hand from your face altogether. “Thank you. Have I mentioned how much I missed you while I was away?” 

“Only five times,” Elle says under her breath. 

“They try so very hard to keep us apart. It's not fair.” 

Because unlike Reid, you don't have multiple degrees. You're still learning, and you can't be here permanently, but your talent, your knack for profiling, is unignorable. You're guaranteed a place on the team as soon as you can prove yourself to Strauss. Without a Gideon to vouch for you, that could take a while, and yet you're never jealous of Spencer skipping a few hurdles to get here. 

If anything, you admire him. “They don't understand our bond, that's all. And together we're hard to beat. Isn't that right, Spence?” 

Perhaps Spencer shouldn't be jealous. You don't call Hotch by anything so saccharine, after all. 

[sadhours]

READING FOR PLEASURE

billy hargrove x f!reader

a/n: this was inspired by @billyhargrovetitties story Cruel Summer, if you haven’t read it… you must. I am obsessed with it.

summary: billy finds your romance novel and teases you about it

warnings; 18+ minors dni, pure smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, billy doesn’t pull out and he panics, oops 🙊

When you return to your bedroom, Billy’s laid out on the bed, on his stomach and propping his head up with his elbow. It’s a cute sight, makes your stomach flip and fill with butterflies as a dirty blonde curl falls in the center of his forehead. You smile warmly and then glance down to see he’s got the romance novel you’d hidden in your bedside table spread out before him and he’s reading it with this all too satisfied grin on his face. When he gazes towards you, the grin meets his eyes, crinkling them up.

“Found your porn stash,” he teases, closing the cover but keeping his fingers tucked into the page he was on. “A Gentle Feuding,” he reads the title out loud with this exaggerated wistfulness to his voice and you know your face is all kinds of shades of crimson. You hope Billy hadn’t noticed the man portrayed on the cover somewhat resembles him, blonde and tan, and that’s why you’d picked the novel in the first place.

“It’s historical,” you lamely reason, lunging forward to grab the book from him but Billy’s reflexes are as quick as a cats. He pulls it out of your fingertips and you attempt to snatch it again, but he pulls it back and you go toppling over him. Billy uses the leverage to flip the both of you over and he’s straddling your waist, holding the book over his head when you reach towards it.

“Historical filth,” he counters, cheeks a little flush from the shuffle of your bodies but that grin permanently smeared on his face.

“Billy,” you whine, “Give it here. It’s embarrassing…”

As you raise your hands to grab it again, Billy grabs your wrists with his right hand and holds them down against your chest. Your whole body feels tight with humiliation and you choke back the tears forming in your eyes. God, you could be such a baby sometimes.

That’s why Billy liked you, though. You acted like such a good girl all the time, he was relieved to find the raunchy book because it let him know that deep down, you were a little vixen and his attempts to draw it out of you had been mostly failures. You two had already slept together, just one time and whenever it came to fooling around, you were so shy.

“This thing is worn,” he comments, looking over the novel in his hand, “How many times have you read it?”

“None of your beeswax,” you huff, “Give it here, Billy. Seriously!”

As you plead, you squirm under his grip, trying to get your arms free so you can rip the book from his hand and maybe destroy it. You haven’t decided, you’re so incredibly embarrassed but it is one of your favorites.

Billy tilts his head ever so slightly, “Should I read some of it to you?”

“No!” you shriek, eyes widening up at him but a part of you is very intrigued. Billy’s voice is like honey, the timbre of it is deliciously low like it comes deep from his throat. You’re suddenly very interested in hearing him read it out loud but you’re still full of shame that he’s found the book. Your hiding place wasn’t very good but enough that your parents or siblings hadn’t found it. Of course, Billy is far snoopier than they are and you should’ve anticipated that when you went to pee, he would be going through your things.

Billy places the book down and moves your wrists to your sides, adjusting his legs so he can pin your arms underneath them. He smiles at you, retrieving the book again and flipping to the first page he’s dog-eared.

“Ya know, there’s a lot of like, bullshit in this book,” he muses, “They don’t even fuck until like almost the end of the book. And then after that it’s like more blah blah blah—“

“It’s called plot,” you argue, voice shakier than you meant for.

The blonde snorts, peering down at you, “I can get you some magazines, ya know? You don’t have to do any reading to get to the good part.”

“I don’t read it for the…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word.

“The filth? Really?” he hums, “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” you lie, wriggling beneath him.

Billy licks his lips, “Let’s see… oh, here’s where it starts getting good; ‘His hand goes somewhere unexpected. Lydia’s eyes widen as the duke’s warm, strong hand smoothes up her milky, white thighs.’.”

“Billy,” you warn, eyebrows knitting closer. It’s as sexy as you imagined but you didn’t entirely anticipate Billy would be so good at reading aloud, it’s almost like he’s practiced with it. He doesn’t stumble over any of the words like you do when you have to read aloud in class.

“Shh,” he shushes you around a smug smirk, “‘Her liquid desire seeps out as he ruffles her petticoat up to her waistline,’ Liquid desire. I like that. Clever way to say she’s wet.”

“Stop!” you protest but the words are purging your own ‘liquid desire’ and you’d rather Billy not have the satisfaction.

“Spicy stuff here. But then the dude only fingers her,” Billy complains with a disappointed frown and flips to the second page he’s dog-eared. “Ah, here we go, I really love this line: ‘Lydia writhes against Arthur but her body freezes as she feels his hardened cock pressed against her stomach.’” He lets out a short laugh, “They actually wrote cock. That’s hilarious.”

You raise an eyebrow, “What word would you use?”

“Cock, definitely, but it’s not a classy word. I thought they’d say like penis or something,” he retorts, biting his lip as he looks to your flushed face.

“Penis isn’t a sexy word,” you argue and feel yourself squirm against him, not because you want him to stop but you want to keep him under the impression you do.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Billy agrees and then asks, “Cock turns you on, though?”

Billy’s sorely mistaken if he thinks you’ll admit to that, no matter how true it is. You shoot him an annoyed look and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He always does that so loud, you’re left impressed each time. You’d tried to do it as loud as he does on nights when you’re bored and alone but it’s never quite as good.

“Lemme see…” his eyes scan the worn pages, “Ooh, this I like: ‘She gyrated the softest part of her against the hardest of him.’”

You also liked that line, it made you think of Billy every time you read it.

“Also, do these chicks ever write about small dicks? They’ve mentioned how huge this duke is like twelve times,” he wonders aloud, lifting the book so he can look down at you.

“Sympathetic?” you bite back, wanting to tease Billy for how he’s teasing you.

“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “you and I both know damn well I ain’t small.”

“Then they’re representing you,” you point out with a wavering smile.

Billy tsks, and then lets out a giggle, thumbing through the pages again. As he finds a particularly dirty passage and begins reading it, you can see his pants tightening over his crotch. You raise an eyebrow, flicking your eyes back up to his face but Billy is too distracted by the words he’s reading to notice.

“Well, well, well,” you say in a teasing tone.

He averts his eyes, seeing that his hard-on is pretty damn obvious in his jeans and you’ve got the perfect view of it. He actually blushes, the reddening hiding his freckles and he closes the book, tossing it behind him as he gazes down at you with his nose scrunched up.

“What?”

“You seem to like it, Billy,” you purr, not trying to suppress the giggle rising from your throat.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, scooting back and releasing your arms. They’ve kind of gone numb from the position under his legs but you don’t mind, you enjoyed every second of it. “If I reach in your pants, you’re gonna be just as obnoxiously turned on.”

“I’m the one who owns the book, Billy,” you challenge with a pleased smirk.

“So you admit it then, you read it for the filth,” he quips.

“I’ll admit that if you admit it gave you a boner.”

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he mumbles, positioning himself between your legs and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your sweats. He pulls them down and you lift your legs to help expel them. Billy tosses them to the floor and spreads your thighs, biting his lip as he brushes his knuckles against your clothed heat. A raspy moan is ripped from you, back arching as his knuckle brushes against your aching clit.

“Oh, Billy…”

“I can just see that ‘liquid desire’ soaking through your panties,” he muses, voice rough but the term brings a laugh from the both of you. It also makes you that much wetter.

“Oh my god,” you mutter through the laugh, “You’re never gonna let that go.”

Billy hums, pushing his nose against where his knuckles just were, “Don’t think you really want me to.” His breath tickles the skin where your thigh meets your pelvis and you inhale sharply. Your thighs tingle, heat rising up them and it’s almost overwhelming. Then you feel Billy’s stubble against the flesh of your thigh and his teeth follow, biting at your skin lightly. Your body jolts at the touch and your thighs open even wider, urging Billy to return his movements to where you want him most. His lips curl up as he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, eyes peering up at you. His pupils are so dilated, you can barely see the ocean blue around them.

“I want you,” he admits, smoothing his palm over your core and resting his fingertips against your pubic bone.

The admission draws a deep moan from you because he looks so adorable between your legs but the palm on you and the words make you desire him so deeply it almost hurts. Billy wants you. The idea itself makes your thighs tremble and your hands shoot down to rake your fingers through his dirty blonde curls.

“You have me,” you breathe but wonder how you look at his perspective and it forces you to prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting to look as pretty for him as possible.

“Can I have you?” he asks, pushing his palm harder against your center.

“Yes, Billy,” you pant out.

He sits back up, peeling your underwear off of you and then settling back down between your legs. He kisses tenderly at your thighs, brushing the tip of his finger against your dripping hole. The noise that pushes from your lips is desperate yet a thankful noise, you’ve been wanting Billy to touch you like this since he straddled you earlier. He makes a surprised but happy sound in return, swiping his tongue against your labia experimentally. The warm, wetness of it is welcomed while it’s not distinctly pleasurable, it feels really nice. His single digit penetrates you slowly while he continues to lick your pussy lips. It’s excruciating, but you know he’s doing it with purpose. The first time Billy had touched you intimately, he done the same. Teasing you with touches that were close to where you wanted but not quite there. You’d come to learn that Billy wanted you to plead and beg for him. Which you weren’t exactly confident doing yet. You still felt reserved and a little shame in asking for what you wanted. That’s presumably what got your boyfriend off: pushing you out of your comfort zone and breaking down those societal expectations.

“Billy,” you whine out, tugging at his curls.

“What?” he asks like he knows exactly what you want, a smile present in his voice.

You flush, you weren’t going to get the relief unless you explicitly requested it. You knew this and it makes your throat tighten and your mouth feel dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You chew on your lower lip as you muster up the courage to put your desire into words.

“Not enough,” you whisper, timidly, “I want more.”

“More?” he pouts up at you, “Tell me what more means.”

“Lick…” you flush, closing your eyes as you try to gain the confidence.

“Lick what?”

“My pussy,” you breathe out, pulling his hair gently.

“I am,” he smirks, “You want me to lick here?” He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit and your head falls back against the mattress,

“Yes!”

He hums and then flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud, the fingers of his left hand digging into your thigh. It’s warm and oh so wonderful as he puts his mouth entirely on you, licking through your folds before focusing on your clit and lapping against it, nose brushing against the curls above your center. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. The two of you are completely alone for at least another few hours but you’re accustomed to keeping quiet, trying to keep your pants and moans of pleasure at a reasonable volume. Billy’s tongue proves to make it difficult. It’s just as fit as the rest of his body.

“Lemme,” he grunts as he pulls away, pushing your top up your chest and he exhales when your chest is exposed. You’d intentionally skipped putting your bra on today, knowing Billy was coming over. He palms at your breasts, squeezing gently as he moves up to suck hour nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, not nearly as great as his mouth on your pussy but this is a little more intimate. You can see him better up here, how pink and plump his lips are and the way his eyelashes curl. Billy is single handedly the most attractive person you’ve laid eyes on and here he is, mouthing at your chest.

“Baby…” you whimper as he adds a second finger inside of you.

It’s all a little overwhelming but feels too damn good to stop. You’re in too deep, you’d follow Billy like a lamb to slaughter. As his fingers curl up and drag against your spongy spot, you cry out. You don’t know how much more you can take, suddenly desperate to feel his cock filling you up and stretching you out in the most beautiful way. It’ll be your second time of what you hope to be a life full of.

“Want—“ you gasp, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Want you so bad, Billy.”

He smirks up at you before sitting back on his heels. He pulls his Henley over his head and placing it next to your body. You reach out and feel the contours of his muscular pecs, brushing the pads of your fingertips against his stiff nipple. He’s like one of those Greek statues, sculpted beautifully but unlike the marble, his skin is so soft. He bites the side of his lower lip as he smiles, his eyes squinting with the expression. He’s so damn beautiful, your heart swells.

“You’re…” the compliment dies on your tongue as you suddenly feel demure.

“I’m what?” he breathes, anticipation present in his drawl.

“Everything,” you admit, bashfully.

You think you see him blush, you can’t be sure because Billy’s leaning down to kiss you. It’s a dizzying kiss, you rock your hips up with it as he pulls desire out of you. You meant it, he’s everything to you, everything for you. He’s it for you and if he’s not, there’s gonna be a helluva heartbreak. No one has been so easy to be around. Billy’s like your best friend, he makes you laugh and cry and cum. What the hell else do you ever need besides this man above you?

“Fuck,” he curses, hand on your shoulder as he pulls away, “My dicks so fucking hard it hurts.”

The complaint is nothing but a masked compliment. You widen your legs, moving your hands down to his hips so you can grind up against his clothed erection. “Need you,” you inform him breathlessly.

“You have me,” he smirks, smoothing his thumb against your cheekbone. “Can I fuck you?”

You know he asks because it’s only the second time it’s happening, or could be. You decided long ago that you wanted it, but he doesn’t know that.

“Need you to,” you counter, the walls breaking down slowly. Billy is good at urging the desperation out of you. You're sure he could persuade you into murder, or something nearly as awful.

Billy grunts, pulling away long enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprouts up and slaps against his abs, angrily hard and you notice his tip is leaking more than you’ve seen before. Your mouth waters at the sight but you’re too eager to blow him. You’re clenching simply at the sight and promise of him burying his cock inside your fluttering cunt. Billy crashes his lips against yours, the shaft of his cock rubs against your soaking pussy and it draws a mutual groan from the two of you. Perhaps you can write a letter to the author of the novel, express your gratitude for it being the source of this very charged moment between you and your stunning boyfriend. You even consider writing your own spicy story about him, he’s damn good inspiration. If you ever write a memoir, you hope and pray that Billy is a lasting role in it.

“Billy,” you plead against his bruising lips.

He grabs your jaw with his left hand while he grabs a hold of his cock with his right, hissing as he runs his tip through your folds. Your body shakes under his touch, hips rocking up ruthlessly from the electricity his movements bring. The romance you read is exciting but can’t compare to his in any way. You’d much rather have him in your bed every night instead of reading until you can’t handle it and hump against your pillow in search of relief. This is tenfold better.

“That feel good?” he inquires, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He says the last bit like he can’t believe it and you reel from it, reveling in the fact that you can turn Billy on just by reacting to him naturally. The carnal desire in you evaporates every wall you’ve ever built up. There’s no shame left in you as you tell him, “S’all cause of you…”

“Yeah? Am I better than the book?” he asks, circling his tip against the rim of your aching entrance.

“Picture you when I’m reading it,” you pant out the confession, eyes falling shut as his hips jerk forward from your words, his tip penetrating you in an easy, fluid motion.

“Touch yourself at the thought of me?” his voice is so hoarse and the sound of it has you clenching around him. He obviously notices it but the whine that pushes passed his lips.

“Always…”

“Fuck,” he exhales, slipping deeper inside your tight cunt. His girth is a shock, but a good one. It’s only the second time. Your fingers and also his, don’t compare. But you’re thoroughly aroused and you swallow his length easily. The burn is dull and adds to the pleasure. He continues, “That’s so fucking hot.”

His face in contorted in concentration and arousal, “The thought of you fingering this tight pussy—“ he grunts, “Thinking about me fucking you.”

“This is better,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep as he bottoms out, balls warm against your skin.

“I think about you too,” he says between clenched teeth, “When I jerk off…”

It makes your head feel heavy, you’re totally honored. The image of Billy in his bed, pulling at his cock while your name tumbles from his lips makes your hips rock forward repeatedly. He makes a whiny noise and your eyes open, wanting to see it happen again. He’s a goddamn vision, sweating above you with curls sticking to his forehead. Goddamn, he’s so intoxicatingly sexy. Sometimes you get this overwhelming urge to grab onto his face and you indulge in it now, hands pressed against his each side of his head while he pounds into you. His eyes are intense as he stares back at you, these delicious little grunts and moans leaving his lips. The room is spinning, Billy’s eyes are so consuming it feels like he’s devouring you. You’re entranced, bodies writhing against each other while you both chase a high only the other can guarantee.

“Billy—“ you choke out, “I’m.. I’m gonna…”

You can’t finish the thought as he drills into you, his hands grabbing your hips and angling them up so he drives against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Cum?” he offers, voice throaty and hoarse. “You gonna cum for me, babygirl?”

“Ahh…” you try to tell him yes but the waves of the orgasm make it impossible as it thrashes through you, your ankles crossing behind his back as he pounds into you.

The pistons of his hips are unrelenting, you’d be impressed with his stamina if you weren’t being dragged through the most demanding orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re loud, the sound of your voice is foreign, rough and guttural. Billy seems to like it, his eyebrows rising before furrowing as he pins your hips against the mattress and bucks into you brutally. His face is scrunched up and these high pitched, pretty and desperate noises he makes are so wonderfully delicious. His movements freeze and you feel his warm completion fill you up.

“Billy…” you moan at the sensation, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt and he collapses on top of you, a panting mess as his lips find yours. The kisses are frantic and sloppy. You’re not even certain they could classify as kisses. Then his eyes are wide and he’s lifting himself up.

“Fuck, oh shit,” his voice is full of panic, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

You’re close to passing out, but you manage to ask, “For what?”

“I came inside you,” he explains, eyes wide.

“Mhm… felt so good,” you mumble, not able to care about his terror in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I didn’t mean to… fuck,” he breathes against your cheek, “Gonna have to.. get a plan B.”

“Billy,” you sigh happily as you wrap your arms around him, “Mmm… feels so good.”

He relaxes at the realization that you’re not pissed at him and for a second, he lets himself revels in the fact that he’s just cum inside you and how amazing it felt. He gasps softly, “So good…”

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Yoongi Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Series

In the Margins (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.

Fix You (f a) ⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

desolate (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

One Shots

Set Me Free (a f) ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

back-burner (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

Love Language (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.

27 Phone Numbers (f) ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

sweetner (f s) ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

One Chance (f) ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Seasons Change (a s) ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Now We Reign (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

take five (a f) ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.

The Final - Day 02 (s) ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

hello soulmate (f) ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

Sugar Rush Ride (s) ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

fuck being friends (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.

Take One (s f) ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

Illicit Favors (f s) ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Bet On It (s) ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

subscribed (s f) ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

[lueurjun]

. ˚◞☁️ ✧˖🤍࿐

▍ synopsis╰┈➤ minho had always been clear about his aversion to marriage, and initially, you accepted it. But when your feelings changed, the once-accepted truth shattered, leaving you to confront the fallout head-on.

🖇·˚ ༘┊ lee know x reader — angst. angst. just angst.

˚ ༘💭 ·˚ message from lueurjun . . . my very first skz post on this account ! this was meant to just be a enha and txt acc but i’ve decided to add skz to the list too because i couldn’t resist. anyways i’m sorry for this, i was in a sad mood.

. ˚◞☁️ ✧˖🤍࿐ྂ

Minho is a captivating read, his life an open narrative. Every page reveals a tapestry of his passions and despairs, vividly illustrated with meticulous detail. It's this transparency that drew you to him, each chapter unfolding with refreshing honesty. You find comfort in knowing what to anticipate, yet he never fails to astonish you with unexpected gestures.

One of the chapters in his book is the declaration of his distaste for marriage, and conveniently enough, it’s the only chapter without a carefully crafted explanation. He told you before things progressed that he would never be able to offer you marriage, and he told you it with full intention of letting you walk away unscathed, with your heart intact. But you were fine with it, a young adult starting their twenties with no intention to marry. It didn’t bother you; it wasn’t a significant issue.

Until it was.

Wedding season was approaching in stride with the warm weather. Three beautifully designed invitations adorned the fireplace, unopened. There was a fourth, the first and only one you pried open and then hid away from your sight with a sick feeling lining in your stomach and an ache in your heart — one of longing. You couldn’t open the others.

Guilt laid across the longing, meshing together and in turn forming one complex emotion; resentment. Not even towards Minho, but your past self for being careless enough to not consider the feelings of your future self. The now you, who envisioned a beautiful summer wedding and all its trimmings. The guilt picked at you, because Minho had warned you about this before you got too deep in. He reminded you before he told you that he loved you, that if you wanted to run, if you wanted to marry then he had to let you go, before he got too attached. Before you got too attached.

Minho wasn't oblivious to the turmoil raging within you, nor to the contradictions within your heart. He found the invitation, concealed from sight bearing a telltale water stain. He observed the wistful gazes whenever your friends conversed about walking down the aisle, and married life. They often left you out of those conversations, already knowing Minho’s views. And it killed him—because he knew you wanted the one thing he vowed to never offer.

And he knew there was only one alternative to you getting what you want.

The sun’s shift was over for the day, night just clocking in when he returns home, exhausted with a heavy heart in anticipation for what he was about to do. You’re on the sofa when he walks through the door, three cats surrounding you looking interested in whatever it’s flickering on the tv. His heart clenched at the scene, aching in his chest, nearly breaking when you greeted him with a radiant smile.

He’s not one to beat around the bush. Never has been, but as he walks toward you, he feels the words stalling in his throat. His heart pleads with him, but he sits down across from you and he swallows thickly.

“Let’s break up.”

The once-warm home now feels frigid, as if drained of its vitality—like the scented candles you loved had extinguished, and the tv shut off. A profound stillness settles over everything in an instant. Your expression collapses into sheer devastation, and Minho's eyes squeeze shut.

“Did I do something?” You manage, only just. Your heart feels like it’s ready to give way. Confusion clogs your mind with a million inquiries.

Minho shakes his head. Of course you’d blame yourself. It sickens him to the core. “No. No, you didn’t.”

"Then why?" Your tone sharpens with anger, impatience seeping through. Why was he breaking up with you? Why was he doing this to you? Why now?

Minho tilts his head, eyeing the ceiling in a pathetic attempt to keep his eyes from watering. “I can’t give you what you want. It isn’t fair.”

You’re bewildered. “I don’t understand—”

“Marriage. I can’t offer that to you, and it’s not fair. I don’t want you to cry looking at invitations knowing you’ll never ship ones out of your own. I can’t watch you be left out of conversations because I’m holding you back. It isn’t fair on you.”

“I told you—”

“And you changed your mind. It’s selfish of me to string you along, knowing nothing more will come from this. I can’t let you waste your dream, not on me. So let’s break up, because that way you can find someone who will give you what you want.”

“Do you not love me?”

Minho almost laughs at that, because how is that even a question in your mind? It’s funny because he’s doing this because of how much he loves you.

“I love you enough to know that I have to let you go.”

And just like that, your heart meets your stomach as the barrier collapses. Doongie meows from your lap, reaching up a paw to your cheek as though caressing the skin. Tears chase each other down your cheeks in a rapid game of tag, the trail ending at your neck where Soonie sits, eyeing you in confusion. Dori is behind Minho, a paw coming down to strike him but he doesn’t flinch.

“I don’t have to have marriage—I just want you!” The words rush out of you like a torrential waterfall. “I can be happy without that as long as I have you.”

Minho shakes his head. “I don’t want that for you. I can’t offer you marriage, I can’t do it. That’s not me. But there’s someone else who can, and as much as the thought of you with someone else kills me, it’s what you deserve.”

Minho's longing to comfort you is palpable, yet he remains rooted to his seat, enduring each gentle prod from Dori. With his gaze fixed on the floor, he quietly utters, "I'll stay at Chan's until I figure out where to go."

You shake your head, sobs cutting through your throat as you plead, beg and cry. You don't want him to leave for Chan's, you don't want him to pack his bags; you want him right here, with you. Marriage or not, you just want him by your side.

Though deep down, want isn’t enough. Resentment has begun to accumulate like an impending avalanche, threatening to engulf everything in its path. Perhaps Minho is correct; maybe it's best to end things now. An argument would have inevitably ensued—such clashes do when both parties want different things.

Minho doesn’t cry as he packs his bag, he doesn’t cry as he kisses your forehead and leaves a scratch on Doongie’s forehead, nor when he gets into his car and drives away.

Minho's stoicism holds until two months later, when he finds himself seated in the back of Hyunjin's wedding venue, watching the happy couple share a kiss sealing the deal of forever. It's only then, as his eyes drift to where you sit, that tears finally gloss over his eyes, haunted by visions of himself slipping a ring onto your finger.

Alone in his car, Minho finally allows himself to release the pent-up emotions. Tears stream down his face as he grapples with a mind overwhelmed by countless scenarios and a heart weighed down by regret.

[jinwoosungs]

{ 122 }

say you like me.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

{ if you like me, then say you like me. }

being around megumi fushiguro made you incredibly nervous.

he was handsome and tall, with ebony locks of hair that fell perfectly across his face. each time you would inadvertently meet with his gaze, you found yourself becoming spellbound by his emerald green eyes.

your friends would laugh at your every panicked expression when megumi would walk past you, sometimes brushing his shoulder against yours as you swore you nearly fainted. your heart just couldn't calm down when he was near.

"it's so obvious that you have a crush on him." your friends would laugh at you, clearly stating what was painfully obvious, but of course you would deny having such feelings for him. if you were to admit that you did like him, then your friends would try and convince you to confess to him.

and you had no intention of ever letting megumi know about your crush on him. you didn't wish to burden his life with your meddling emotions-

so you did all that you could to avoid him; to ignore that surge of joy each time he was near, your emotions seeming to run on high each time he was in your periphery.

but there was no way he would ever notice a wallflower like you.

being so caught up in your wistful thoughts, your feelings became soft as you had the sudden urge to read a romantic story. with your assignments completed and your school day finished, you began to make a dash toward the library.

since it was already late in the afternoon, the library was empty, and you were excited to find a few books that would suit your desires. you crept across the various shelves, completely lost in your own world. when you found the shelf you were looking for, you allow your eyes to eagerly scan at the selection.

that's when you saw it- a book settled on the very top shelf. it had a rose colored cover and an appealing title, one that promised you the type of love story you were craving for.

however, there was one slight problem-

it was a bit too high for you to reach.

trying to bite back your disappointment, you slowly stood on the tip of your toes, trying to see if you could somehow reach your desired book. when your fingertips could only grace at the book's lower spine, you half considered using a chair as your stepping stool-

that is, until you felt a lean chest pressed on your back, the unknown person brushing up against you as they easily took the book out of the shelf.

you face the kind student, ready to thank them when your words immediately died against your lips. standing before you was megumi himself. he held a blank expression on his face while extending the book out to you.

"did you want this?"

"y-yes!" you squeak out a reply, taking a hold of the book, your fingertips casually brushing against the palm of megumi's hand as you fought back the heat threatening to dye your cheeks. you let out a rushed "thank you!" before moving away from him.

the blood was felt rushing to your ears when you met with the librarian, making a quick work of checking out the book in hopes that megumi wouldn't catch up to you. despite how you couldn't see him, you could hear his footsteps approaching you. once you were able to obtain the book, you thank the librarian and began to quicken your pace out of the library.

please go away, please go away. just go home, just go home.

you mentally prayed that megumi would leave; that his footsteps weren't behind you at all and that you were probably just hearing things. as you made your way around the hallways, you felt a strange sense of relief coursing over you at the sight of the exit just a few feet away.

you were close to pushing through the door, making your quick getaway back home when a large hand was felt encircling your wrist coupled along with a grunt of your name.

"it's dangerous for you to go home alone like this." you let out a sharp gasp, being pulled back gently as you heard megumi's voice ringing within your ears.

"i-i'll be fine! you don't need to worry fushiguro...!"

your poor attempt at convincing megumi was evident as a scowl was seen on his face. "it's just... let me walk you home."

your mind was spinning, and you weren't sure how you were going to handle spending the next thirty minutes of your life with megumi. "i-i probably live opposite of where you are, so it's okay. you don't need to do this."

the boy continues to shake his head at you. "it'll be fine, come on."

without saying another word, he leads you out of your school, keeping your hand in his as you clutched at your book to your chest.

the walk to the train station was silent, with megumi never once letting go of your hand. as you waited for the train to arrive, you notice the way the girls from neighboring schools seemed to gawk and blush at the sight of megumi, calling him incredibly cute as they debated whether to ask for his number or not.

yet megumi seemed oblivious to it all, still keeping his grip on your hand even as the train arrives. with the locomotive quickly approaching, megumi tightens his hold on you, as if silently demanding that you stay still and by his side while the train stopped.

only when the double doors slide open did megumi step forward while taking you with him. he takes a hold of the handrail while asking you what your stop was. you tell him the name of your stop, with megumi nodding in response.

suddenly, the train begins to move, jolting you forward as you nearly lost your balance had it not been for megumi keeping a steady hand behind your back. "hang on to me..."

by now, your heart was pounding, making it race as your cheek was pressed against megumi's chest. you didn't know how or why megumi could act so nonchalant about all this, whereas you were close to dying from the intensity of it all.

you continue to cling to him, holding on to him for dear life as the train sped onwards. you bask in his warmth and the faint scent of his cologne, feeling so content while in his embrace. almost too soon, your stop has arrived as the doors open for you to exit.

you figured that this would be where megumi would leave you, but he didn't. he continues to hold on to your hand, leading you out of the train as he walks with you out of the station.

the walk to your neighborhood was uneventful, but before you could make the turn to your home, megumi suddenly takes you to the side. your mouth turns dry, and you were suddenly pressed against one of the concrete walls.

his breath was felt against your heated face, and you could see his large hand gently brushing back the strands of your hair. there was a solemn expression on his face when his fingertips touch at your parted lips.

"why are you so afraid of me?"

you had to break eye contact with him, your heart pounding so relentlessly now that it was getting harder to breathe.

"i-i'm not afraid of you..."

"then why don't you ever look me in the eye?"

megumi's hand was felt gently against your chin, with him tilting your face upwards so that he could see your eyes. the more you looked at him, the more you could see how soft his gaze was, as if filled with a yearning for something.

"why don't you ever want to stick around when i'm close?"

megumi leans closer to you, lips brushing against your skin in a kiss that was no heavier than dew.

"why don't you ever stay when i want nothing more than to have you near me?" megumi leans back for a mere second, looking down at your lips before coming closer to you.

your shaky sigh of his name was all you could manage, allowing yourself to cling to him when he carefully moves his lips against yours in a brief kiss, one that was enough to make your heart soar as you spilled your secret to megumi the moment he moves away.

"i-i like you so much that you make me nervous. and when i get nervous, i don't know h-how to act when you're near."

megumi's eyes widen upon hearing your confession, but then his look of surprise was quickly replaced with a genuine smile.

"silly girl, if you like me, just say you like me, too. don't torture me like that anymore." megumi sighs, wrapping his arms around your back as he brought you achingly closer to him, with you grinning like a lovesick girl when you felt him pressing his lips against your hair in a sweet kiss.

and as you were surrounded by the comforting scent of him, you realized that you had the perfect love story all along.

{ it's time to fall into my arms, because i've been waiting for too long. }

a.n. - unedited, but so so soft. i really wanted to write something soft for megumi ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[mariclerc]

Soft fur | cl16

Summary: When your date with Charles takes an unexpected turn. Or when you have a new fluffy member in the family.

Warning: None, a lot of fluff from Charles and reader.

You and Charles have been dating for a long time, and occasionally you go on casual dates since you are both busy and hardly have time for a date as such, and today is one of those. You are both sitting in front of each other, the sun was coming through the window of the place, plates with half-eaten and delicious pastries occupy the space between you. You take a bite of a macaron, your eyes sparkle with delight.

“You're enjoying that, mon amour?” Charles asks while keeping a little smile on his face.

You nod with your mouth full. “Mmm! It's so light and airy, just like... Well, you.”

He chuckles. “Me? It's that because I'm sweet and fluffy? Flattery will take you so far, love.” He winks and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You blush lightly, a shy smile playing on your lips.

Moments later, you walk hand in hand down a cobblestone street. The afternoon sun warms up your skin, and the gentle murmur of conversation hangs in the air while you talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

“...and then the girl screamed very loudly in the office, and I was scared, she screamed because there was a bug in her coffee cup, she started shaking the cup, spilling coffee all over the floor. I swear it was something out of a movie.”

“Oh god, I can imagine it, baby.” he said while laughing.

Suddenly you feel something soft against your ankle, you stop and look down at the floor to see fluffy siamese kitten nuzzling you leg. Its emerald eyes looked at you with great curiosity and innocence.

“Oh god Charles, look! It's a kitty! It's so small, oh my!” You say while gasping.

He kneels while extending a hand. “Hello there, little one. Where did you come from?”

The kitten rubs against his palm, purring contentedly. You watch, your heart melting at the beautiful sight.

“It's so cute. Can we pet it?”

He smiles. “Of course, mon ange.”

He gently picks up the kitten, cradling it in his arms. You reach out with a shy smile, tentatively stroking its soft fur. Memories of your childhood flood back: begging your parents for a pet, daydreaming about cuddling with a furry friend, or simply being your companion while you study.

“You know? I always wanted a kitten when I was younger. But my parents never let me had one.” You said with your voice a little brittle.

He notice your wistful expression. “Is that something you still want princess?”

“I don't know... It seems a bit silly now, being an adult and all.” You say a little hesitantly.

Looks at you intently. “Silly? I don't think it's silly love. If it makes you happy, it's not necessarily silly.”

He holds the kitten out to you. You hesitate for a moment, then cautiously take it in your arms. The warmth of its tiny body fills you with a sense of comfort and joy.

“Thank you Charles.” You say in a whisper.

He smiles warmly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Consider it an early Valentine's day present.”

You let out a little giggle and continue walking together, now with your new furry friend, which is quite comfortable in your arms, the sun light becomes brighter and more resplendent. After walking for a while, you and Charles stand in a bustling pet store, the kitten nestled comfortably in your arms. Shelves overflow with cat toys, treats, and colorful accessories.

“There are many options! What can we choose?” Your eyes are wide with wonder.

He chuckles. “Well, let's ask the experts, don't we?” He approaches a friendly-looking employee wearing a name tag that reads "Sarah." “Hi there! We found a little lost soul and are looking for the perfect essentials to welcome it home.”

“Oh, how adorable! What a lucky kitty. Let's see what we can do.”

Sarah guides you through the maze of cat supplies, explaining the differences between food brands, litter types, and scratching posts. You bombard her with questions, your excitement growing with each answer.

***

Later, you stand in your cozy apartment, transforming a small corner of the living room into a cat sanctuary. Charles helps you assemble a cat condo, set up a litter box, and fill bowls with food and water. The kitten, now sporting a cute red collar and named "Sparks" by you, explores its new territory with playful curiosity.

“All ready! What do you think Sparks? Happy with your new digs?” You say while wiping some sweat from your forehead caused by the work of arranging things.

Sparks rubs against your leg, purring loudly. You kneel down and scoop it up, burying your face in its soft fur. A contented sigh escapes your lips.

“You look radiant, mon bébé! Even happier than with the pastries.” He said while wrapping his arms around you.

“Maybe it's the pastries, maybe it's the kitten, but mainly it's you. Thank you for making this dream come true, Charles!” You say with a little smile on your face as you lean into him.

He kisses your forehead, his eyes filled with love. Sparks, sensing the affection, snuggles closer to you, completing the picture of perfect domestic bliss.

“Now we have a little family!” He says while having a smile on his face.

“Maybe later, a little human addition to the family?” You say in a whisper.

Charles's eyes widen in surprise, followed by a slow, teasing grin. “Mon ange, are you proposing?”

“Maybe...” You say while blushing. “But I think for now we are fine the way we are.”

You don't rule out the idea of ​​having a family in the future, whether near or distant, with Charles, but at the moment you guys are pretty good with Sparks and their fun and curious things that they do every day and that make them smile at the least expected moment, no matter how stressed or tired you both are, Sparks is always there to make you smile.

[mochinomnoms]

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Congrats on 1k followers Mochi (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ you so so so so deserve it. You always make me smile when I see your posts so I hope you have fun writing them.

If I might make a request, could I have Jade, Trey, and Ace with a romantic prompt 16 (“I won't lose you again.”)? I want to see them cry a lot just a tiny bit. Feel free to let the vibes guide you, I trust it will be very good.

-Yuri

jade leech, trey clover, ace trappola (separate) x gn!reader [tags] — angst in Ace's, hurt in Trey's, humor in Jade, implied time loop theory [wc} - 1,000+ each prompt 16: “I won't lose you again.” song: Be, Talk (Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby!”), Francesca (Hozier, “Unreal Unearth”) note - @yuri-is-online got it! went a lil wild cause I got massive inspo lmao. Also, let me know if yall can guess the anime I got inspired from with Ace's francesca (1k event)

“Be like the love that discovered the sin (Lover, be good to me) / That freed the first man and will do so again / And, lover, be good to me (Lover, be good to me)”

There were several things that caught Jade Leech’s attention during his life, but only a few kept his attention, after which he’d abandon his ‘toy’. Fungi, mountains, and poisonous flowers, were exceptions, to name a few. He had to admit to himself (and only himself) that there was one thing that revolved in his mind all this time later, dug deep into his brain like the mycelium of his beloved mushrooms in the forest floor. 

One. Thing. You. The funny little human from the broken down dorm. The funny little human with not a single ounce of magic in their veins. The cute little human that was captivated by his merform, an entirely foreign concept to them. The sweet little human with the even sweeter crush on him all throughout his second and third years. 

Perhaps it was cruel of him to entertain your affections with no real desire to follow through on them. Actually, scratch that, it was cruel of him to do so. It was just so…interesting to him at the time. He grew alongside his brother and Azul, none of them exactly being the most sought after during their childhood or teens. They were feared, each of them for multiple reasons, not exactly prime boyfriend material, despite some of their attempts to curate a specially crafted facade. 

Yet, you were so bewitched by him, enthralled, beguiled, and dare he say lovesick with him despite all the signs screaming “DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!” So please, forgive him for shamelessly flirting, and finding entertainment in your reactions. 

The dilated pupils as he leaned down to make eye contact. The sharp intakes when he cornered you against a library shelf, nonchalantly reaching for a random book. The shiver down your spine as he would lean over in class to whisper some nonsense in your ear regarding the class. All for the sole purpose to see you blush a pretty color and get flustered. Not for the jump in his heart at the thought of being revered so sweetly, or a potential lover being so good to him. 

It was just a bit of fun. That’s all it was. That’s all it was meant to be, when he finally left for his internship his third year. He paid no mind to the wistful look on your face as he gave his goodbyes, nor the strange creak in his heart at the sight.

Jade Leech was all he’s always been, and all he will ever be: a man that left his toys once they ceased to interest him.

Which is why he loathed that he’s been unable to remove you from his mind. Though, did he really? It wasn’t annoyance or hate, but an aching yearning that resided in his being. Jade spent many months tossing and turning in bed as he dreamt of you: shy smiles, soft eyes, and sweet words. He wanted, he needed to be free from this love-struck feeling, this infatuation. It was dragging him down from his finely constructed pedestal, like a sin striking an angel down from heaven. 

Yet, coming back to campus now, presenting his internship research at the end of the year, Jade found himself strangely content with the concept as he watched you. You’d taken on your role at NRC quite beautifully, and were the object of affection for many admirers, much to his dismay. Currently, you were attending to visitors, directing them to their destinations and helping the fourth years find their old clubs and friends, while he admired from around the corner.  

You were as you’ve always been, sweet, cute, and clueless to your surroundings as he stalked closer until he was behind you, leaning down until his lips inched close to your ear. 

He purred breathlessly into your ear, “Oh Prefect~ Is that you, my dear?” Jade didn’t miss the shudder that flew up your spine as you jumped away in shock. 

“EEP! W-what the—” You whipped your head around to berate the man before realizing who it was. “Oh, jeez, Jade! You’re back—why’d you do that?!”

The tall man chuckled as he straightened to his normal height. Oh, how he missed you. And your reactions, of course. 

“I simply missed your delightful expressions, you always have been rather reactive with me, haven’t you?”

“What—nooo. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Huffing, you crossed your arms and jerked your gaze away in irritation. At least, it would be if not for the blush on your cheeks. 

“Fuhuhuh, that blush suggests otherwise.” A giddy feeling filled his chest as Jade inched closer to you, in which you backed away. This continued until he managed to corner you against the stone way of the hallway. 

“This is a familiar sight, is it not?” Jade cooed as he leaned down again, a hand reaching to caress your cheek. “I did miss you, didn’t you—”

A smack. Jade blinked in surprise as his hand was thrown back by your own. Now you looked more annoyed than flustered. 

“I’m sure you did.” You hissed sarcastically, narrowing your gaze at him. “Ha! Please, more like missed messing with me. If you really missed me, you’d’ve called or messaged me like the others in our class. Even Azul checked up on me!”

Jade…hadn’t been aware of that. He’s been too into his own head, reliving memories with you that it hadn’t occurred to him that you’d actually might lose affection for him. 

The thought made him a little sick. 

He pouted, taking your chin in his hand to tilt your head up to his. “Is that so? Please forgive me for my most egregious sin. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

“Hmph, again?” You made a sound of offense. Despite your words, you still looked up at Jade with a  shy gaze, eyes darting down to his lips every so often. 

You never had me in the first place.” You scoffed, trying to avert your blushing gaze, though he kept a firm grip, moving to squeeze your cheeks into a pucker.  

Jade chuckled, “Your previous actions say otherwise, though I am quite a fool for not taking what was mine in the first place.”

“Y-yours?! You-you-you can’t just say things like that—eep!” You let you a deliciously cute squeak, which he swallowed up as he stole a kiss. 

“Now, now my little lover, be good to me and let me revel in your affections, I’ve derived myself from them for far too long now, have I not?”

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice / Imagine being loved by me / I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) / All the things I would do

He wasn’t sure why he had any faith in Crowley to get you back home. Really, that’s on him for thinking the headmage would put any work into your return home. If Trey had known that you’d still be here in Twisted Wonderland, years after his graduation, he wouldn’t have ever broken up with you. 

Granted, it hadn’t exactly been his choice in the first place, as you had abruptly ended the relationship towards the end of his fourth year. Told him to enjoy his life without you weighing him down, despite his insistence that you’d do no such thing. 

Trey finally relented when you told him that you had a world, a family, a home (without him) to get to. Somewhere you belonged, somewhere that wasn’t with him. 

It hurt, yes, knowing that you were never really meant to be with him in the first place. It was simply by magical chance that you were plucked from your world to turn his own upside down. Likewise, it was simply by chance that you and him got together to steal and eat his heart, leaving him almost an empty shell of himself. 

So it was a surprise to see you at Riddle’s wedding, of all places, dressed up in a pretty green outfit as you giggled with some bridesmaids. Seven, you looked good, the fabric hugging all the right spots. Maybe he was being a bit delusional, but Trey swears that the green of your outfit matched the color of his hair, and he had a small possessive streak pass through him at the thought. If it wasn’t for Cater pinching his arm, Trey would be sure that he was in a dream. 

“Ow! Cater!” Trey hissed, rubbing his arm as the strawberry-blonde smirked at him. Cater’s hair was longer now, but he kept his signature style from school still. 

“Go on, talk to them.” Cater nudged him with his elbow, gesturing to you. “I know you want too~”

Trey huffed, watching the liquid in his cup as he swirled his punch. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, come on!” Cater whined, latching on to Trey’s arm. 

“We didn’t end on good terms.”

Cater countered, “You didn’t end on bad ones either.”

“Hmph.” Trey clicked his tongue, eyeing you from the corner of his eye. Your hair had grown longer, and was dyed. It looked nice on you.

Still leaning against Trey, Cater pouted before a mischievous look passed over his face as he leaned in to whisper in Trey’s ear. 

“Besides, I heard they’ve stayed single since being with you.”

“…” A sigh. “Really?”

“Totes, so you really ought to go make a move before that blonde dude does, though it doesn’t look like he’s having much luck.”

Finally deciding to look up, Trey noticed your uncomfortable expression as the guy twirled a strand of your hair with his fingers. Despite being known for being rather mild-mannered, a handful of your mutual friends knew the truth: Trey had a nasty jealous streak where you were concerned. 

He wasn’t sure when or how he got across the room, but Trey was suddenly hovering over you and the blond man, hazel eyes piercing his back. Surprise flitted your features as a hand was offered to you, along with a familiar. 

“Sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” Trey had to withhold a smug smirk as he saw your eyes light up at the sight of him. “But would you mind sharing a dance?”

You eagerly nodded, taking his hand and mumbling a half-hearted apology to the other man as Trey guided you to the dance floor, filled with couples sharing a dance to the latest love song. 

His hands rested on the familiar curve of your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, hesitating before finally settling your hands on the back of his neck. The two of you swayed to the music, a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two. Honestly? It was as if you two never broke up, with how your bodies curled into each other, heart-to-heart.

Yet, neither one of you seems willing to start the conversation he was begging to have.

“… You look beautiful—”

“You look wonderful—” 

Both of you opened your mouths at the same time, interrupting each other before sharing a giggle.

“Sorry, sorry. You go first.”

Trey shook his head. “No, go ahead.”

You smiled, something soft and a bit sad, before looking him up and down. “You look good, got stockier. The bakery’s got you working hard, hm?”

“Ha, yeah. It has, what…about you?”

Your lips thinned, as you looked away. “Still at NRC with Grim, we teach the new Beast-tamer curriculum. It’s…fun.”

Silence fell over you two again, the elephant in the room hanging between you two.

“You’ve been here, all this time, then?”

You nodded, a sliver of shame passing over your features. 

“He never did find me a way home after we…you know…”

Trey sharply inhaled, tightening his grip and rubbing soothing circles as he nodded. “Yeah…why didn’t you…tell me. Why didn’t you come back?” He left out the ‘to me.’

You stopped dancing, making him stumble slightly as he watched your face intently, heart aching at the tears growing in your eyes. 

 “I—” Trey watched as you swallowed a lump in your throat, voice shaky. “—I felt so bad that you’d spent your time and energy on being with me when I might not even stay, so I wanted you to go off and live life. But then, he never did find me a way back, and I realized that I just pushed you away, and I just couldn’t face you—”

You broke into sobs, burying your face into his chest as Trey led you away from the dance floor. He managed to pull you into a secluded hallway, one for the staff to enter in and out of the kitchen. Trey held you close as he rubbed your back, resting his cheek on the top of your head as you rested into the crook of his neck.

“I-I'm sorry… I shouldn't be…” You were sniffling, letting out little hiccups as you spoke. “—crying like this… I'm not trying to make you… feel bad… I just… I should go…”

As you moved to pull away, Trey tightened his grip, hand reaching up to caress your cheek as you looked up at him with watery eyes. You were as beautiful as the day you left him, tears streaking your makeup and all. 

“Don’t, please, I—” Trey sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I won’t lose you again. I missed you so much, please, stay?”

You nodded, still sniffling, as you moved to kiss the palm holding your cheek. “I missed you too, but aren’t you mad at me? For not coming back?”

Trey shook his head, smiling softly at you. Whatever anger he had was immediately forgiven at the sight of you before him. He couldn’t care less about the last few years, as long as he had you back in his arms again. 

“As long as I can have you back in my arms, the past is forgiven. As long as…you’ll have me?”

The two of you shared another sweet smile, leaning into each other to press your lips in a soft, fleeting kiss. The type of kiss you give when you can’t tell the difference between a dream and reality. Cater’s quick photo of you two lovers would later help cement that fact that this was reality. 

It’s a week later that Trey has that exact same picture set as his home and lock screen.

I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin') / I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah) / If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin') / I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens. Ace goes through the orientation ceremony, only to have it interrupted by you stumbling into the Mirror Chamber, an energetic and egotistical Grim demanding to take your spot. 

It’s dark in the cave that he goes into with you two and Deuce to collect the new chandelier magistone. You're screaming, he’s screaming, so are Deuce and Grim. It’s a shit show, even before Riddle comes to drag him and Deuce back to the dorm. 

It’s dark when he makes the trek to your dorm after being collared. Grumbling about just wanting a snack, about Riddle’s unnecessary rage, and about who the hell can remember all 810 rules. It’s light, though, that he sees when you open the door to Ramshackle, the warm, old lightbulbs from the hallway creating a halo around you. 

It’s light again, in the morning as the sun filters through the broken window, you poking him awake to get to class.

Ace has never been one to get sentimental, the idea of love is frightening, to be frank. But looking at you again, light curtaining your features, he was reminded why he did what he did. 

Why he punched Riddle for his outburst and insults to you. 

Why he threw himself into the fight against Leona as he threatened to turn you to sand. 

Why he let himself get “tricked” by Azul again and again, get beaten up by the twins under the sea again and again. Why he tried to run back to school to your rescue, only to be too late again and again. Why he endured the embarrassment of losing the SDC. 

He’d hoped that this time he’d be able to avoid getting into a coma from the S.T.Y.X. Charon robots again, but he had no luck, so you once again had to depend on Rook and Epel getting you through the Isle of Woe. Maybe he should’ve focused on getting Grim back after scratching you, or maybe just prevented him from eating all the blot stones, then you wouldn’t have been in this mess. 

It might have prevented Malleus’s own blot, though Ace wasn’t really sure what led to his spiraling. It was probably a combination of a lot of information, as it was with the rest of the blots. Either way, he’d been hoping that preventing Grim from eating the 8th blot stone would’ve prevented this. 

Ace wouldn’t know though, as he’s been through this year at least 4 times now. Trying to prevent what he’s slowly starting to believe is inevitable.  

He’s replayed your deaths over and over in his brain. The first one that happened, he was upset for losing a friend, but probably would’ve gotten over it. It sounds harsh, but that was the reality of the situation. 

After the second loop, Ace started noticing you more. Things he missed out on the first time. The way you smiled, the way you walked, the way you tugged on your shirt when you were nervous. It was cute. 

It was his third loop that he started noticing little things. How you liked to grab on to his arm when it got too crowded. How you always made an effort to help him in class, despite having to catch up with nearly 2 decades of curriculum just to understand the professors. He noticed how you’d blush whenever he’d make flirty jokes. 

It was his fourth, and current, loop that he really started to view you differently. That he started to view these second, third, and fourth chances as a way to keep you safe. To not lose you again. 

You were always helping him, despite the stress he caused you. Every time you’d let him crash in your dorm, eventually convincing you to let him share at least your room. He’d be up, tossing and turning as he watched your sleep. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, but seeing you take your whole situation in stride, every overblot, every condescending comment, every shenanigan Grim, Deuce, and him really made Ace think about why he was doing this. 

Was it because he felt bad? No, it certainly wasn’t the first time, anyway. Was it because he liked having you around? Kinda, maybe a little. Was it because every time he’d ask you why you got involved with all the drama at school, you’d answer with a shrug, a smile, and simply answer “I gotta protect my friends, as best I can anyway.” That was probably partially the reason.

He thinks the reason he’s so desperate to make sure you stay around is because of the promise you made with him the first loop around: “If I can’t go home, let’s always stick together! I like you, and you like me, so we can support each other every way we can.”

You’d made this promise, in one form or another, every loop.

“Promise we’ll stay friends, even after graduation! I wanna stick by my first friend’s side!”

“Ace? Do you actually promise to take care of me? I know I’m a pain, no magic and all, but I’ve taken care of you in my own way, do you really promise to do the same?”

It was his fourth time watching you live your year in Twisted Wonderland. And it’s then that it clicked for him: he was falling deep into love with the magicless Prefect that cared way too much for others, and much too little for themselves. 

“Ace…” you gasped, a bloodied hand reaching out for him as an overblotted Grim made a rampage throughout the Mirror Chamber. He could hear the others screaming, magic being cast, and a distinct yowl from Grim as Riddle launched another fire spell at him. 

Ace cringed as the giant direbeast that was once his little fiery friend screamed in pain, running around until he tripped and fell through where there was once a wall. Grim let out an eerie, inhuman scream as he fell, a sickening crunch echoing as he landed on the stone ground. For the fourth time, Grim was gone. But that didn’t matter, not when he was watching you die for the fourth time. 

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey I’m here.” Ace had managed to crawl over to you, clasping your hand with his own. He rested your head on his lap as you coughed, red liquid leaving your mouth as you did. 

“No, nononononono—you’re fine!” Ace hyperventilated as he looked over your battered body. He was sure that he had prevented Grim from eating Vil’s blot stone. Was that not the reason he turned into this? Did he only need to eat a few before turning into a monster? He was so confident that he’d managed to keep you safe. So why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy—

“Ace.” He froze as you murmured his name, your other hand reaching for his cheek, wiping away the tears he didn’t realize he was leaving. 

“Ace, promise me you’ll stay with me? I don’t want to be alone right now…” you hiccuped as you started crying, curling into his chest as Ace cradled you. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t help! I was so useless, so useless to let Grim get to this point. So useless as a friend, I’m so sorry!”

Ace curled into you, ignoring the voices from behind you two, no doubt the other students coming to the realization that you’d be grievously harmed. 

“I’ll stay with you, I’m always with you.” Ace shuddered. He felt like throwing up. “I’m going to try again, I won’t be too late this time. I’ll make sure to keep you safe this time. I won't lose you again.”

Ace ignored the person shaking his shoulder as he watched you hyperventilate, before your breathing slowed and eventually stopped. He ignored the surprised cries as magic swirled around him, as he activated his signature spell for the fifth, and hopefully final time:

With a flick of the wand, a rhythm sublime,

Reverse The Clock, turn back the chime,

No time to say 'Hello', goodbye!

I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!

It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens for the fifth time.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[forever-rogue]

My friend, can you believe after all these years I’ve come to finally appreciate Steve as more than a friend?

So I’ve come with a request. A very reluctant friends to lovers w Steve! Maybe Reader has never understood why all the girls love Steve and has always been just a good friend to him until one day. Something just clicks and he’s suddenly seen in a different light all together.

AN | In which you fall for Steve slowly, and then realize all at once 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’m going to be single forever,” you sighed as you sat down across from Steve, happy to see that he’d already ordered your favorite coffee. He raised an eyebrow in greeting as you reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Your date went that well?” he grabbed his own coffee and took a long sip as you shrugged.

“He wasn’t the worst,” you rested your cheek in your hand, “until he dropped me off at home and asked me to suck him off before I got out of his car. So, putting it lightly, I won’t be seeing him ever again.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he gave you a small smile as you just shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t that sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that but not sorry that it didn’t work out. He loathed the idea of you going out with anyone else, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks,” at least you always had Steve. You hoped that one day you would find a man as good as him. He was everything to you, and you hoped he knew that as well, “one day it’ll work out with someone. Until then, I guess I have to keep kissing the frogs.”

He made a small sound and nodded in agreement. It was then that you noticed the girl behind the counter watched the two of you - Steve - with a wistful look on her face. Your lips drew in a thin line as you tried to hide your eye roll. It wasn’t that uncommon; girls often stared at him wherever you went. 

“What?” he nudged your foot under the table and shot you a coy smile, “what’s that look for?”

“Nothing…”

“Liar.”

“Fine,” you leaned in closer so only he could hear you, “that girl behind the counter is practically drooling over you.”

“Oh,” he laughed softly before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s so bad about that, huh? Are you jealous?”

That made you scoff slightly as you waved your hand at him. That was definitely not the word you’d use. He was your best friend after all, “as if. That’s not quite the word I would use. Annoyed? Bemused? Those are more accurate.”

“Very funny,” this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “would you want to do tonight?”

“I dunno,” to be honest, you were still a little down after your disastrous date, “whatever you want to do is fine, Stevie.”

“Nope,” he stood up and reached for your hand. Motioning for you to follow him, “that’s not what I asked - what do you want to do? You know I’m just happy to  spend time with you.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Harrington,” you slipped your hand into his, “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

And you meant it. Everything was a million times better with him. 

“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you, making your heart almost melt, “I’ll pick tonight then and you pick next time. Deal?”

“Deal!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were taking a walk around the park to kill some before your dinner reservations, hot chocolates in hand. Steve had surprised you with it since you’d been whining about how much you wanted before meeting up. You were reminded again just how amazing and wonderful your best friend was. 

“It’s pretty out,” you mused as you lightly kicked a big pile of golden and orange leaves. It was almost winter, and you were taking advantage of the weather before it got too cold to do anything for a few months.

“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at any of the nature surrounding you. He was looking right at you, “it really is.”

Before you could say anything else, you heard a small scream coming from near the playground. The two of you looked at each other before rushing towards the sound. When you reached the jungle gym, you found a young girl sitting at the bottom of the slide, crying as she held her leg. 

You looked around but didn’t see any adults nearby. Steve didn’t waste a moment before handing you his cup and going over to the small girl. A couple of other kids were still running around and playing, but a few stopped to watch him.

“Hey sweetheart,” he dropped to his knees so he was on her level, his voice soft and gentle, “what happened?”

“I fell off the slide and hurt my leg,” she looked at him with big, wide eyes, cheeks wet with tears, “it hurts really bad.”

“Can I take a look at it?” your heart melted at how gentle and tender he was. Steve just had such a way with everyone - but kids especially. It definitely made you feel some kind of way. The girl nodded immediately, her dark curls bobbing as he looked at her leg. He made a few sounds before reaching up and wiping away some of her tears, “the good news is that I think you’ll be just fine. The even better news is that you’re super brave for how well you handled this.”

“Promise?” she asked and Steve held out his pinkie to her. 

“Pinky promise,” he grinned as she laughed softly at him, “did you come here with your parents?”

“Yeah,” she looked around, “they were going for a walk and said they’d be back soon. I was just playing with the other kids.”

“Maybe we should go and find them, huh?” he ruffled her hair and she nodded, slowly attempting to stand up. Steve held up his hand in order to help steady her and she gladly took it, “what’s your name?”

“Lucy,” she reached for his hand and started to slowly walk. Her knee was skinned, as it often happened with kids, but otherwise she was unscathed. She paused and looked up at her savior, “what’s your name?”

“Steve,” he told her and she looked over at you. Steve followed her gaze and smiled at you before offering her your name. Lucy grinned and waved her small hand eagerly at you. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” she loudly whispered to him, making you laugh softly as you pretended not to hear, “she’s really pretty.”

“She’s my best friend,” there was something about the way he said it that made your heart feel a little bit of a pang. It just didn’t sound quite…right. But you weren’t going to question that just yet, “she’s really nice too. C’mon kiddo, let’s go and find your parents.”

“Okay,” Lucy started to pull his hand and marched in the direction of where her parents would be. Steve followed diligently behind her, shooting you a wink as you trailed after the two of them. Yeah… this was definitely making you feel something. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it was like something had shifted in the way you viewed Steve. Not that you’d ever had anything but love for him, but it was starting to feel a little…different. It felt like you were seeing him in this new, honeyed golden light. 

It was like you were noticing so many things about him for the first time, despite the fact that he hadn’t changed a single thing about himself. You noticed how he always held the door open for others, how he helped anyone that needed, when he’d let people in line go in front of him, when he’d pay for someone else’s coffee just to make their day. The way that people, especially women, always looked at him in wonder, suddenly made sense. He was just…everything. And you’d been so oblivious the whole time. 

“What’s wrong?” You were at the grocery store with Steve, but you’d stopped mid aisle when you saw him helping some with getting a few things off a high shelf. He turned back to you and gently tugged on your sleeve, “are you okay? You’re being weird.”

“You’re being weird,” your face was practically burning at having been caught daydreaming about your best friend. He snorted in amusement, “sorry, just thinking.”

“Must be something important,” he gently tugged you along, back over to the car, “if it’s got you so distracted.”

“It’s…” you. But you weren’t about to admit that just that so randomly in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe you’d never admit it. You weren’t completely sure yet, “nothing. It’s…nothing at all.”

“You sure?” he looked concerned for a moment, giving your hand a small squeeze. 

“Positive,” you really liked the feeling of his hand in yours. You’d never noticed just how much, “just been feeling a little…off lately I think.”

He tutted softly, stopping to look at you fully. He reached up and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. Steve gently turned your head from side to side and hummed softly, “just as I thought.”

“What?” your lips pulled into a pout as you wondered what he could possibly say, “Steve.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he concluded as you scoffed, reluctantly pulling his hands away from your face. He was getting too close to unnerving you and making you spill your guts out. You weren’t ready to. Ugh. He laughed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you for a hug, “but I love you regardless.”

Part of you was convinced that he knew exactly what was going on in your mind and he was doing this to torture you, “love you too.”

This was going to be a whole situation. You just knew it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tonight was the night you were finally getting to see the movie you’d been thinking about for months. You weren’t sure if Steve actually wanted to see it, but he was a good sport for being willing to go with you. In true Steve fashion, he’d even paid for the tickets and all the snacks you’d both wanted. 

“I’ll get all this stuff if you can grab the popcorn,” he took the stuff without even waiting for an answer. He shot you a quick wink, “thanks.”

You smiled at him, watching as the cashier watched him go as she got your bag of popcorn together. He really did women longing after him left and right; you could understand why. He was good looking and an almost golden retriever of a human being. 

“Your boyfriend is very sweet,” the woman had a big smile on her face as you raised an eyebrow in confusion. What boyfriend was she talking about? You looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the theater lobby. The only person you spotted was Steve.

“I don’t…”

“And so handsome too,” her voice sounded almost dreamy as she looked between the two of you. You made a small sound before taking the bag of popcorn that she slid across the counter and slowly made your way back to Steve. 

“Everything alright?” he asked softly as the two of you started to walk towards the designated theater, “you look…worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you promised with a stiff smile as he opened the door and ushered you in. You were surprised he managed it all considering his arms were full of drinks and snacks and you were only carrying the popcorn, “thanks, Stevie.”

He hummed in content as you picked out a pair of seats away from others near the top. You settled in and made yourself comfortable, finding yourself leaning into Steve’s warm body. He smiled as he put his arm around you, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. 

You’d been wanting to see this movie since you’d heard about it months ago. You’d even picked out the perfect evening to go, when the theater wouldn’t be too crowded and you could enjoy the experience. But…you couldn’t focus on it at all; your mind kept drifting back to Steve. There was something in the way that lady had spoken about him that got to you. 

Steve who had always been there for you. Steve that had been your best friend since the day he met you almost five years ago. Steve that would do - and has done - anything for you. 

And that’s when it hit you. He wasn’t just your best friend, he was your everything. When you put the pieces together it made sense why people often thought you were together. Now you just had to figure out what to do with your revelation. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn’t taken much of the movie in and Steve had noticed. Though it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were distracted when you weren’t responding to a single comment or question from Steve. 

The two of you walked back to his car in relative silence, a small distance that felt far too great between your bodies. Before you could open the passenger side door, Steve leaned against it and softly shook his head, “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.”

Well. That hadn’t entirely gone to plan. Not that you were sure you even had a plan. It just short of…happened. 

“What?” he laughed nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that he’d heard you correctly, but also didn’t want to flatter himself. Not yet anyway. 

“I…I think I just realized during the movie,” your entire face felt way too hot, especially with the cool winter breeze that was surrounding you, “and it just…caught me off guard.”

“Off guard?”

“I…I think I’ve always known I just never…realized,” you whispered, turning your face down towards the ground, studying the laces of his sneakers. Steve wasn’t quite sure how you felt about the revelation, “but now I know. I’m sorry.”

“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you looked up at him, his big brown eyes all soft. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure if he was serious or not. 

“Because. I think I’ve just ruined our entire friendship,” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “because it’s going to be weird now that I know I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same way.”

“Whoa,” he reached for your hands and gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrists, “who said I didn’t feel the same?”

“But you don’t…I,” you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Oh. Oh. Steve beamed as he watched you come to yet another huge realization, “you love me?”

“Duh,” he teased in that gentle tone you loved so much, “took you way too long to catch up.”

“How long?” how long had you been blind?

“About five years.”

“But we met…five years ago.”

“I know,” this time he flashed you a shy smile as your expression softened. He’d been there this entire time but you had been so blind to him. Everything you’d been searching for and wanting had always been, quite literally, right in front of your face. 

“Steve,” you looked down at your hands, were still safely and warmly developed in his, “Steve.”

He brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You warmed at the touch and it took everything in your power not to jump on him then and there and kiss him silly. He must have been thinking the same thing, “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, but umm, can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you knew that, deep down, you’d been wanting him to ask for so long, “yes.”

He took your face gently in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently. It was almost ridiculous just how far gone he was for you, “you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could argue with him, and he knew you well enough to know that you would, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, testing the waters to see what it was like for both of you. You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing softly at his touch. That seemed to be all he needed in order to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him. 

Neither of you wanted to break apart and only broke apart very reluctantly when you were desperate for a breath of air. The two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles before laughing. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words but there didn’t appear to be quite anything to properly convey everything you were feeling. You touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed gently, “I know.”

“Oh,” you looked up and a few drops fell on your cheeks, “let’s get out of here.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“I want you to come with me,” you whispered, “I don’t want to say good night just yet.”

“Me neither,” he opened the door for you and helped you inside before gently closing the floor and going around to slide into the driver’s seat, “does this mean I can kiss you all the time?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” you grinned at him, “you can kiss me anytime.”

“Good,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “‘cause I’m going to be doing that a lot.”

[stormhearty]

Pairings: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Triggers: pregnancy trope, longing, mention of death, thoughts of suicide, blood, baby’s death, open-ended ending

Summary: Hiraeth definition: “homesickness, longing, nostalgia and a wistful desire for something irretrievably lost.” It had been several years since your passing, one that he cursed the Mother and the Gods for. Now he wanders the world, endless and lost, waiting for the day you would whisper in his ears to come home — home to you.

Note: From this request! Thank you @soulsansang (I cannot tag you for the life of me), for sending this request! I fought every urge to connect this to my Seer!Reader fics. The idea of hiraeth fit perfectly with a mourning Azriel; however, I needed something else. Needed an Azriel who was mourning not because of his actions, but due to unforeseen circumstances that fate seemed to have placed him in. I’m sorry for the “pregnancy trope”, I didn’t think I would be writing this one like this. If you do not like that trope, I completely understand and I respect you not reading this. But I do hope you enjoy, and I hope it fills the angst and sadness that you had requested!

“Azriel~!”

He looked over his shoulder, his name echoing in his ears, as he stepped out of his apartment and into the pouring rain. Dull hazel eyes stared at the gray skies as the rain poured down, relentless and unforgiving.

It had been days since this rain had started, and it seemed as if it would never stop. It was torrent, heavy with the mix of strong that howled through the empty alleyways. Valeris was almost like an abandoned city — its inhabitants were locked indoors due to the storm that shook its walls.

Azriel’s form shuddered, the wetness seeping into his clothes. He barely wore something that would keep him warm in such icy weather — a simple black jacket, a long-sleeved tee hidden underneath, and black jeans. His leather shoes were soaked in the rain as he stepped into another puddle, not caring that the wetness soaked into his feet.

He walked through the deserted city, only a few who braved the torrential storm were running through the streets. Those out looked at the Spymaster with confusion and worry, but none voiced them out loud — he wouldn’t have listened anyway.

He had one destination — and he would make it there — despite the storm.

Stepping across the Sindra River, the cobblestone bridge was overrun by the river below. Waters crashed upon slowly decaying rocks, splashing over the sides and onto the bridge. Traversing it might seem impossible for any normal Fae, but for Azriel, it was easy.

He stepped onto the bridge, not minding how the cold waters of the river splashed onto him. He paused, at the arch of the bridge, leaning over the stoney rail to look at those rapid waters that raced down the riverbend. They crashed and crescented over rocks, splashing against everything and anything that stood in its way — and the downpour only amplified the river’s maelstrom.

Azriel looked into the waters below him, barely making out his reflection in them. He blinked out the water that tricked into his eyes, and when he looked back down into his reflection — instead he found a familiar figure — hair blowing in the raging wind, eyes looking up at him, hand reached out as if to tempt him into those frigid cold waters below him.

It was tempting, to say the least, the call to be submerged into the depths of the river, to feel the icy liquid deep into his skin — and make the river his grave.

He couldn't help it — the image was like a siren with its sailors, tempting them to their end. Leaning across the cobblestone rail, he leaned down — down into the depths of the water. Azriel had every mindset, every want to drown in that very river.

However, he felt his body pause, as if a tiny hand tugged on his shoulder — a child’s laugh echoing in his ears.

His body snapped up, his head whipping over his shoulder, frantically looking around, only to stop. Eyes noticed a fallen blue-violet on the drenched cobblestone. Azriel felt his body go rigid at the flower, remembering what it had meant. He turned around and knelt, shaky hands reaching down to pick up the soaked flower. He felt his eyes prickle with tears as he turned it in his hand, before bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on the petals, standing up and pocketing it.

Dull hues stared at the river below him, noticing his reflection once more — and not the mirage that tempted him to death. A frown tugged on the edge of his blue-tinged lips before making his way across the bridge once more, the call of death barely whispering in his ears.

He turned, his feet bringing him off paved grounds into a mud-soaked one. The mud squished underneath his feet. He weaved through familiar trees, and as he delved further into the forest the canopy above him blocked the gray skies above, the pitter-patter of rain on soil lessening. There, underneath the canopy, Azriel shook his wings out — the rain that had drenched his wings flying off in droplets. He raised a hand, running through soak locks, pushing them back away from his face. He fixed his jacket, dusting off the moisture from its soaked fabric before he continued walking.

Hazel hues saw the familiar clearing, watching as the downpour continued to drench the soil in its never-ending attack. He stood at the edge of the clearing, hues staring up at the sky once more. He silently cursed the Mother and the Gods above for this rain — all he wanted was to see the clear skies for once.

Azriel stepped into the clearing, the rain drenching his clothes once more — not that he minded anyway.

He stepped into the middle of the clearing where a lone headstone stood. A simple one, nothing to extravagant. Azriel felt his heart race in his chest as he got closer to the headstone.

Azriel kneeled in front of the headstone, a tearful gaze as he read the words that were etched onto the stone: Here lies (Y/N), the wonderful wife of Azriel. Mother of their unborn child. May the Mother and Gods bring her safe passage to the Havens.

It had been two years since he had to bury your body, along with your unborn child.

The Mother was cruel to him.

You and Azriel had been married for over three centuries — his life was full of color, full of happiness and full of love. You were everything to Azriel. He would miss you when he went to missions, kiss you silly when he got home from said missions; he would spend lazy time with you, your head on his lap or vice versa — just spending time with each other. And for those three centuries, both of you had tried for a child, but because Fae menstrual cycles were so sporadic, it had been difficult.

But two years ago, your miracle baby happened.

“Azriel!”

Azriel turned around after shutting the door to your apartment, only to catch your body that flung towards his way.

“Hey love,” he greeted you, a chuckle escaping his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, looking down and noticing how your head tucked into his chest. He could feel your excitement vibrate through your body and he couldn't help but wonder what had gotten you so happy.

But at that moment, he just leaned down and pressed a kiss on the crown of your head, watching your head tilt up to look at him, your eyes shining.

“What is it?” he hummed out with a raised brow.

He watched as you bit your lower lip, fighting the smile that tugged at the edge of your lips.

“You know how I have been feeling unwell the past few weeks…” you had started off.

Azriel hummed out, shifting you in his arms so that you were at his side, his arm wrapped around your waist before leading you into the kitchen. He maneuvered you around, grasping your waist and lifting you with ease onto the countertop next to the stove.

“Azriel!!” You shrieked in surprise, your hands grasping his shoulders to stretch yourself.

He smirks up at you, settling himself between your legs, “Now what were you saying, love?”

He watched you huff softly before continuing your story, “Well I went to Madja earlier today and I told her of my symptoms—-”

“Nausea, headaches, bloating…” he listed off.

Azriel knew your symptoms, it had worried him to the max. Both of you didn't know what had happened — he was worried about some sort of poisoning… he thought of the worst-case scenarios. And you had to be the one to calm him down from those spiraling thoughts.

You hummed and nodded your head, “Well… it looks like you didn't have to be so worried about that poisoning scenario, my love…” you whispered as you leaned down to press your forehead against his.

He felt your hands slide down his shoulders, down his arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Azriel always loved how you touched him — there was no hesitancy in the way you held him, touched him — whether it he sexual or intimate. You had always initiated touching him and now, he can't live without your hands or body near his own.

He felt your hands grip his own, sliding then to your lower abdomen, pressing his hands against the soft skin.

“… I’m pregnant, Azzie…”

Your words were a whisper and Azriel felt his eyes widen at the words that had left your lips. He stared up at you and watched as your eyes sparkle light the night sky at your confession.

Hazel hues looked up at you before sliding down your body to where your hand lay over his own. A wide smile tugged on his lips before he slipped his hands away from your own, cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

He poured everything into that kiss — all his love for you and this unborn child.

When his lungs screamed for air, he was content with pressing kisses on your skin while you giggled, feeling your hands run through his hair.

“We’ll be having a child…” he whispered in disbelief.

He heard you let out a hum, feeling your head nod, “Yes we are… after centuries… our beautiful child…”

Every word that you whispered was full of happiness, adoration, and excitement. He knew, from hearing you speak, that you'd be a wonderful mother… one that would dote on that child.

He was elated — after centuries of both of you trying, watching your family build their own little families — Azriel was worried that both of you would never be blessed with a child. Yet now, the Mother seemed to rain her fortune on the both of you.

But deep within him, worry festered like mold, slowly growing. He worried about the complications — he heard about it with Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian. And he worried for you — and all he could pray to the Mother that you would be spared from it.

“What color should the baby’s room be?”

Azriel hummed and raised a brow, turning his head to gaze at you. He fought back a smile — he had found you so adorable. You had waddled, your belly large protruding your tiny stature. Your hand tucked in the crook of his elbow protectively.

Azriel had ensured you were in good hands during your pregnancy; and that he would always prioritize your health and safety. He would never let you go out without him, either himself or his shadows. He always had a hand on you — whether it be around your waist or, like now, your hand tucked into his elbow.

Your features glowed despite the exhaustion he knew you felt — you had looked so beautiful during your whole pregnancy and Azriel worshiped you like the Goddess you were to him.

He watched as your gaze went up to him, your head tilting slightly at the look he gave you. Azriel shook his head, “You know I'd be biased if you asked me, love…” he answered.

Azriel would choose blue, even if it was a girl or a boy, his siphon colors would be that room’s color.

He watched as you rolled your eyes, and felt your hand pat his forearm, “Why am I not surprised that, out of all the colors, you’d choose your siphon?”

The two of you walked into the paint shop, the doorbell ringing above you. You were greeted by a Fae, one who was shocked and nervous to meet the Spymaster and his wife.

Azriel patted your hand and slipped your hand from his elbow, “Go ahead my loves… I'll be here…” He watched you smile before following the Fae to the color room, and he watched with adoration.

“You can't leave me, (Y/N)…” he sobbed, grasping your flaccid hand in his, pressing a kiss on cold skin.

The room was deathly still, his sobs echoing in the loud shared room.

You had gone into labor hours ago, and that labor… was difficult on your weak body. The babe, as Madja had warned you and Azriel all those months ago, had taken a toll on your body. You had been sick and bedridden for most of the pregnancy — Madja had stressed for you to terminate the pregnancy — it was either you or the baby.

Azriel had fought for you to terminate the pregnancy; begged and cried you to.

He could live without the unborn child but without you?

Never.

He watched you cry, begged him to let you keep the babe — he listened to your bargains, and promises; he listened to you cry in the night whispering to the baby all the while rubbing your stomach.

He watched everything… but he couldn't lose you.

But you had been stubborn, wanting to keep the pregnancy — pushing it to term — despite the consequences of it.

And so when you went into labor, the amount of blood you lost… was too much for Madja to replenish with her powers. The baby that was born was already too blue to try to bring back alive. Azriel was by your side the whole labor, watching you push your body to the brink — all for the child.

He felt your pulse slow underneath his fingertips, his hazel eyes frantically trying to find yours as he watched them roll backwards.

“No…No!” he yelled, dropping your hand onto the mattress and cupping your cheeks, “My love… (Y/N)…” he whispered, leaning in to press his forehead against yours, trying to pull you from the call of death.

Azriel watched you smile up at him, your eyes focusing on him, crescenting as you looked up at him, “…Azzie…” you whispered.

He fought back tears as he nodded his head, “Hey, my love, yes, I’m here… I’m here…”

“I’m sorry…”

It was as if you knew… this would be the outcome of your decision.

“No… Don’t be sorry… Please don’t… Just… Please don’t leave me… You can’t leave me…”

He watched as your eyes roll again and he brought your face closer to his own, watching them focus on him again, “…I don’t want to… But, I’m so tired Az…”

Azriel felt a heart wrenching sob escape his throat. His thumb caressed your pulse point, feeling it slow more. He looked up at his High Lord and the Healer and both of them looked at him with a somber look.

A shake from his High Lord gave his answer.

The tears finally fell, as he looked back at you — and you back up at him. He watched your brows furrow in confusion as you stared at him.

All he did was shake his head, leaning down to press one final kiss on your lips.

“Sleep… My love… if you’re tired. I’ll wait for you to wake up…”

He felt you take one last breath, a smile tugging on your lips as you whispered, “I love you, Az…”

Azriel felt your body go limp in the bed, your head roll back and your pulse stop completely. He watched your eyes dull, that smile still on your features.

His body shook, and tears never ended as he pulled your body into his arms, cradling your head as he let out a cry, pressing his face into the crook of your neck — the final time he’d ever feel you against him.

Azriel never thought heart break would be so painful.

He stared at the tombstone, pulling out of his thoughts and memories to reach down and caress the marble stone.

“… Hi my love…” he greeted you, like usual, “It’s raining again… It seems that Valeris is in a typhoon of rain recently…”

Azriel sat himself down on the muddy ground, not caring if the mud and rain soaked through his clothes again.

He had sat there, talking to you about his day, what had happened recently with the family, what was going on with Valeris and Prythian in general. He talked for hours until he felt his voice go sore and his body shake due to the cold from the rain, but he didn’t leave… not until the skies turned dark.

Azriel laid himself down on the patch of dirt in front of your grave, laying on his back as he stared up at the sky. It seemed the rain ceased and the beautiful starry skies of Valeris peaked through the rain clouds.

He watched the stars twinkle, before a shooting star blazed through the sky before another one — much smaller — followed it.

“…Was that you, (Y/N)?” he whispered, thinking that those two fallen stars were you and the child, reaching out to him from the Havens above.

Azriel had been searching for signs, for the past two years of any sign of you in the Havens. Looking for signs that you were calling for him — looking for him. All he wanted to know was that you were out there.

And that shooting star was it.

He smiled and closed his eyes, “I’m coming back home to you…”

[sissyisawitch]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: After leaving everything behind and starting a new life almost three years ago, MC returns to Hogsmeade for Christmas Eve. Little does she know that her brief return will be enough for her past to catch up with her…

Word Count: ~9.4k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol in the beginning? Otherwise it's just pure pining and fluff

Author's Note: Special one shot because I just love Christmas. It should've been even longer, but I had to shorten it, or I'd never have managed to post it in time for Christmas. Anyway, I had a blast writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did!

I wish you all a wonderful Christmas!🎅🎄 Lots of love💕

“Oh, MC, I can’t get over how much we’ve missed of each other’s life. You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you!”

MC and Poppy sat in a cozy corner of the Three Broomsticks, whose dim lighting and soft hum of conversation provided a comfortable backdrop for their reunion. Excitement and laughter had been echoing for the past hours, as the two best friends shared their numerous respective adventures, and reminisced about the wonderful times they shared while at Hogwarts.

“Life sadly took us on separate journeys after graduation, there was no other way… But I'm so grateful that we haven't lost touch.” MC said as she took a sip of her third Butterbeer of the afternoon. She had never realised how much she had missed the sugary drink, especially after being away from Hogsmeade for so long. It tasted of the good old days when she spent the entire day shopping with her schoolmates, before going for a collation to relax and forget about the homework they had to do.

After Hogwarts, Poppy became a renowned Magizoologist, following in her grandmother's footsteps, like she had always dreamt of doing. As for MC, she had taken a very different path. Barely a few weeks after graduating, the girl had decided to leave everything behind and embark on a life full of travel and adventure. She never stayed in one location for very long. Her aim was to discover as many places as she could.

Now, the only thing left of her former life was her best friend Poppy, and the letters they regularly exchanged. It was for her that MC had exceptionally returned to Hogsmeade, to see her on this Christmas Eve.

“Merlin… I didn’t realise it was so late already.” MC sighed as she looked out the window. The evening sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow through the pub windows.

Poppy grimaced in response, as if a bittersweet realisation came to her, “Time flies when you’re having fun. I wish I could stay longer... but Gran hasn't been well lately, and I've already left her on her own all afternoon...”

“Don't worry, Poppy. I totally understand.”

“I'd love to offer you a place to stay, especially since it’s Christmas Eve… but as I said, it's complicated at the moment.”

MC offered the girl another genuine and reassuring smile, “It’s okay, I don't mind. I've managed to find a room in an inn for a couple of days.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Poppy smiled back, although ruefully.

After paying for their drinks, the two girls made their way out. They stood on the porch on the Three Broomstick in contemplative silence, the air thick with unspoken emotions. The time had come to bid farewell once again.

Poppy took a deep breath, as if to get rid of the lump in her throat, before breaking the silence, "MC, it's been wonderful catching up with you. I wish we could freeze time and stay like this forever."

A wistful smile played on MC's lips. "Life moves on, though. We have our own journeys to continue."

Poppy hesitated before uttering her newt words, “…Don't let it be another three years before our next reunion."

“It won’t. I promise.” MC replied weakly, having to bite the inside of her cheek to hold back her tears. She had never been very good at goodbyes.

Maybe that was why she had never said one to Sebastian.

With a lingering hug, they exchanged a few more words, promises to stay in touch, and expressions of hope for the future. It was nightfall when Poppy finally disapparated, leaving MC alone on the village streets, which were neither crowded nor deserted. Most of the people still outside were on their way home, or off to enjoy a late drink with their friends.

MC walked for a while, before stopping at a vantage point overlooking the quaint village which was bathed in the soft glow of Christmas lights that shimmered like a galaxy full of stars. Tremendous decorated Christmas trees could be found on every street corner, perfectly matching the garlands of fir branches that linked the roofs of the various cottages. It was even possible to find some snowmen that were bewitched to fill the air with the enchanting melodies of Christmas carols. The whole scene resembled a holiday postcard brought to life, especially with the thick blanket of snow covering the village.

It was magical. Literally.

As MC gazed at the picturesque view, memories started flooding her mind. The charming village setting reminded her of the spirited Christmases she used to share with Sebastian, spending the best part of their day at Zonko's trying to find a way to prank Ominis, before heading off to Honeydukes to buy Chocolate Frogs, just in case the blond ended up sulking for too long. The inseparable duo then made it back to the Great Hall just in time for the big Christmas feast, where they joined Ominis. The smell of roasted turkey, and the sound of familiar laughter echoed in MC’s thoughts.

After dinner, the group of friends used to return to their common room and sit down by the fire. She could almost hear the crackling of the fireplace, and feel the camaraderie that accompanied their joyful exchange of gifts. After that, Ominis fell asleep very quickly, and MC and Sebastian usually took the opportunity to get a little closer. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the sensation of his shoulder used as a pillow against her cheek, while his woody cologne invaded her nostrils.

MC could never escape these kinds of memories, especially when she was in Hogsmeade.

Everything always led back to Sebastian in Hogsmeade.

That was why she had refused to set foot there for so long.

To forget the insurmountable heartbreak of never having her feelings returned by the love of her life, MC had decided to start a new life. She had wanted to move on, to forget her feelings for Sebastian, but she had known that this would prove to be impossible with him in her life. She had therefore decided to make a clean break – because she knew that bidding Sebastian farewell was not a skill she possessed – and to disappear brutally. To make her plan even more effective, she had also cut ties with Ominis, seeing as he was Sebastian’s best friend, and MC had felt awkward to put him in the middle of her drama. The only thing MC had kept from her old life was Poppy... now her one and only friend.

MC had then spent years travelling around the world, searching for a place where she would feel comfortable enough, and that she would love enough to want to settle there for the rest of her life. The goal to her quest was to find a place that felt like home.

After almost three years, she still had not found her home.

“Ow!” MC suddenly exclaimed. Someone forcefully colliding against her back disrupted her reverie.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I didn’t see you.”

MC turned at the sound of a deep masculine voice. Indeed, the man could not possibly have seen her, for he was carrying a large pile of children's toys in his arms, up to his eye level, thus blocking his field of vision.

The man shifted the pile of toys into one of his arms instead of both, moving them away from his face to take a look at the unlucky person he had just unintentionally bumped into.

Next thing MC knew, before she could even realise it, MC found herself face to face with none other than Sebastian.

His chocolate eyes widened in recognition as they locked onto hers. An amalgam of shock and bewilderment flashing across his face, washing away his previous apologetic look. He was so flabbergasted that he forgot about the packages in his hands, which began to wobble. MC rushed closer to him, to put the parcels back upright, and prevent them from shattering on the floor.

“…MC?” He asked hesitantly, never tearing his gaze away from her, just to make sure he was not dreaming, that his former best friend was well and truly standing in front of him.

“Hi.” She smiled softly at him. She could not believe that she had not recognised what had once been the only voice capable of soothing her even on her worst days. To be fair, it had changed remarkably. It was more intense, manly... even sexy.

“You’re back?” He questioned eagerly, a beaming grin breaking through the initial stupor.

MC nodded in response. She could not bring herself to tell him that it was only temporary, or even worse to admit to him that she had not come back for him, that she had never had a single intention of ever seeing him again. She could not be the one to wipe that gorgeous smile from his tantalising lips. It would break her own heart all over again.

As she kept staring into those familiar eyes, a rush of emotions overwhelmed MC. The old crush she had once harboured seemed to reignite with an unexpected intensity. It was unbelievably insane that just one glance at him was all it took to make her flamboyant feelings for him resurface. She thought she had managed to eradicate them, but she had actually only been able to bury them deep inside.

However, with that also came the horrid realisation that Sebastian was carrying a large number of toys in his arms. As MC looked once again at the eye-catching bundles in his arms, reality struck her like a cold breeze.

There, nestled in his grasp, was the object of the rude shock that life had evolved without her, in ways she never could have foreseen. Obviously, these toys were for his children, meaning that Sebastian was also married and had a loving wife waiting at home for him.

MC, still quite in denial, racked her brains to find another rational explication, but there was none. There was no other option because Ominis always said he never wanted kids in order not to pass on his ‘cursed Gaunt genes’. As for Anne… well last time MC had heard of Anne was the day Solomon Sallow died. After that, she had severed all contact with everyone except Ominis, who had promised her not to divulge any information about her whereabouts.

MC’s heart sank as her mind kept repeating itself that Sebastian had moved on, embracing a world that now included the joy and responsibility of raising a family.

“Merlin, MC! I thought I’d never see you again! You’ve missed so many things, there’s so much I need to tell you! Do you live here now?” If Sebastian had ever held a grudge against MC for disappearing without warning, no trace of it was visible. His excitement was taking over completely.

“I have a room at the Hog’s Head.”

“What? The Hog’s Head?” He exclaimed in horror – rather dramatically if you asked MC – “You can't possibly stay in this dodgy shithouse!”

MC was surprised by his crude words. She was used to his outspokenness, but she had not expected to hear it again so soon after such a long time. She could only shrug sheepishly, “I don't really have much choice... Sirona didn't have any more rooms available for me. Everything was booked up… you know… with the holidays.”

“Ah... Well, I can't exactly let a lovely lady like you sleep there. I've got room at home, you can come if you like.” Sebastian puffed out his chest, putting on his false air of chivalry.

MC tried her best to conceal the blush creeping up her cheeks, but alas, she could do nothing about her nervous stammering, “Oh… Oh, I… I don’t wanna bother you. Besides, the Hog’s Head’s not that bad…”

“Don't say no. Please. Really, I insist. We could spend the evening drinking and catching up… What d’you say?” Sebastian gave her the sad puppy eyes, and MC could feel all her resolve slipping away at the same second.

Thinking about it twice, the Hog's Head was truly, absolutely dreadful. The few times MC had been there, she had been catcalled far too many times for her liking.

So yes, she knew that staying with Sebastian, his wife and their children was going to be pure torture, but MC still preferred that to the risk of being mugged or assaulted by one of the Hog's Head patrons.

“Okay.” She ended up saying, forcing a smile that masked her internal turmoil.

“Brilliant!” Sebastian looked so excited that it would not have surprised MC if he had started jumping up and down. “Have you got any luggage you need to pick up in your room before going to my place?”

“No, I've just got this." MC replied, pointing to her small rectangular shoulder bag, barely large enough to hold a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “I travel light.”

“Perfect! Well then, if you will follow me, my lady.” He offered her his arm with a wink, and after a brief moment of surprise, she accepted it.

Sebastian made it so effortless to fall back into their old dynamic, that it made it just as natural and easy for MC to do the same. It was like they had never been apart.

They walked together, sticking close to each other, in the same way they used to do when they were still teenagers. As they strolled through the streets of Hogsmeade, MC assumed Sebastian was taking her to a Floo Flame. The girl was therefore genuinely caught off-guard when he stopped in front of her. a small house typical of the village – made of stone with an excessively pointed roof – and took out a key to open the front door.

“Ladies first.” Sebastian's face lit up with pride and joy, while he let MC in first, still the perfect gentleman as usual. Even married, he could not help being flirty.

Before entering, MC took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves, in anticipation of meeting the woman who had succeeded where she had failed, the woman who was better enough than her in Sebastian's eyes to have succeeded in stealing his golden heart.

However, instead of coming face to face with her nemesis, MC found herself immersed in an intimate reflection of Sebastian's essence, overwhelmed by how homey it felt. The house was truly cosy, but a little small for a family in MC's opinion. But then again, it had to be remembered that Sebastian was used to small spaces, having lived in his little one-room cottage in Feldcroft for most of his life.

The living room had the charm of disarray, with stacks of well-read books scattered on the coffee table next to empty mugs, suggesting that Sebastian had not lost his messy habits. The smell of the fireplace and coffee intermingled, creating a comforting atmosphere that reflected precisely the way Sebastian always managed to put MC at ease.

MC guessed that the upstairs, which was in fact a mezzanine, must be the bedroom. She did not dare go upstairs to respect his privacy, but from the ground floor, she could see the top of bookshelves reaching up to the pointed roof, proof that Sebastian was still as thirsty for knowledge as ever.

All these little details showed MC that, although his life had evolved, the man standing a few steps away from her was still her beloved Sebastian.

Sebastian, observing MC's reactions, could not suppress a grin, "It's not much, but it's home. You can have the bedroom, and I'll sleep on the couch.”

On further inspection of the house, MC came upon the kitchen, which was open to the living room. She could not help noticing that the worktops bore the marks of failed culinary experiments. Some pans with burnt bottoms were abandoned on the counter, and dirty cutlery had accumulated in the sink. In short, the kitchen was a mess, just as Sebastian could be in other people's lives.

However, what stood out most to MC was the absence of signs of shared living. There were no visible traces of another person – no stray belongings, no indications of a partner or children. It was as if the whole house resonated with Sebastian alone, as if his whole person had become woven into the fabric of his environment.

As MC continued to stare in silence at his topsy-turvy house, Sebastian scratched the back of his neck nervously, “Don't pay attention to the shambles, please. I didn't clean up... since I wasn't exactly expecting any guests.”

Instead of reassuring him as she would have liked, MC's curiosity was quicker to take over her next words, “Where’s your wife?”

“My wife?” Sebastian frowned.

“Yes. The woman you married.” She added bitterly. Her curiosity slowly lowered its mask to reveal its true self of authentic jealousy.

He looked away, but MC could still see that he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face, “I’m flattered you think I’m charming enough to get a wife, but I’m afraid there’s still no Mrs. Sallow. Besides Anne, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Sebastian chuckled at her enigmatic reaction.

“I thought the toys were for your kids…” She admitted shyly, pretty embarrassed after making so many wrong assumptions about him.

“My kids? Bloody hell, MC, you sure have high expectations for me!” Sebastian exclaimed, clearly amused by the situation. “But no, I don't have kids. The toys are for my niece.”

MC was gob smacked, eyes wide and mouth agape, “Your… niece? You have a niece? Anne had a child? Wait, did she get married? With who?”

“That’s a lot of questions.” He smirked playfully at her, while looking for a bottle in one of his cabinets. “But I think you can guess the answer to the last one.”

MC looked down at her feet, taking a moment to think, when realisation hit her like a bolt of lightning. She turned her head back to Sebastian so fast it almost gave her whiplash, “Ominis?”

“Bingo.” Sebastian replied casually, uncorking a bottle of Firewhiskey. “And he took Anne's name. He's Mr. Sallow now.”

“No way!” She gasped, letting herself fall limply onto the sofa out of utter stupefaction.

“Yes way.” He laughed wholeheartedly, sitting down next to her and pouring two glasses of alcohol for each of them.

"How? When?"

"Apparently, after fifth year, they did more than just keep in touch."

MC took her glass in hand, but did not drink from it. She had far too many questions on her mind to take the time to have a sip, "But how did they deal with Anne's curse?"

"It disappeared once you killed Rookwood, since he was the one who cursed her. Apparently, magic disappears with the caster. I learnt all this a few months after graduation, when Anne got back in touch to invite me to their wedding…”

Sebastian suddenly paused in his explanations to down his glass of Firewhiskey in one gulp.

“She wanted to invite you too… I had to explain to her that you'd disappeared without warning." He continued, looking pained, and MC suspected it was not just because of the bitterness of the alcohol.

"I'm sorry." MC winced at her own words. She was pathetic to listen to, using the most clichéd and basic phrase. But it was all she could muster to respond, because it was exactly how she felt. She was profoundly sorry. Sorry to the people she cherished the most, for abandoning them without looking back. But also sorry for herself, because she now had to accept the bitter realisation that she had been absent for so many crucial milestones of their lives.

Sebastian only shook his head, avoiding her gaze and preferring to stare at his empty glass, "Why did you do that? Why didn't you say anything? I was worried sick ‘cause I thought something bad had happened to you, that some Ashwinders were still out there, and had kidnapped you. I spent months looking for you... I'd even asked the Aurors to search for you.”

MC sipped her drink slowly, using the alcohol as a distraction from the painfully heartbreaking explanations of the man sitting next to her

“…They eventually found you overseas. In perfect health... and in perfect company so I've heard. That's when I realised that you hadn't been taken away, but had gone away of your own free will.” Sebastian poured himself another glass before throwing it back again.

“I'm so sorry.”

He scoffed bitterly, “I don't want to hear that you're sorry. It's no use. I just want to know what you were thinking when you left.”

This time, it was MC's turn to down her glass before pouring her heart out in the most honest way possible, "I just needed to get away from everything, from the past. I just wanted to start again."

Against all odds, he nodded understandingly, "Wish I could stay mad at you for it... but I won’t say that I don’t understand."

What he did next surprised MC in the most pleasant way. Sebastian reached out towards her, placing his large hand on top of hers, which was resting on the brown leather of the sofa. Even if his hand was calloused and weathered by time and experience, MC was amazed by how perfectly it fit around her own.

"What matters is that you're here now." He offered her a tender smile that warmed her heart in the most appeasing way. Only he could do that to her.

"I am." MC smiled in return, even more brightly. It was contagious. She turned her hand over and intertwined their fingers together.

As their conversation died down, MC could not help but steal a moment to observe the transformation in Sebastian’s appearance. The once-adorable teenage boy she remembered had blossomed into a handsome man. His features, chiselled by the passage of time, sculpted a strong jawline that added a touch of rugged refinement to his countenance. The shadow of a beard adorned his face, giving him a distinguished and slightly mysterious air. Sebastian's tousled hair fell with a casual elegance, framing a face that bore the subtle imprints of life's experiences, such as a scar on his eyebrow arch that MC had never seen before.

The only remaining trace of the boyish charm that MC had cherished years ago, was the constellations of freckles that beautifully decorated his face. They had always made MC weak in the knees, but the butterflies in her stomach were multiplied tenfold now that they were highlighted by his light tan.

MC internally begged herself to stop ogling him before she fell further under his spell (if that was even possible, considering how head over heels she was for him).

She poured herself another drink and cleared her throat, “You said you wanted to catch up over drinks, right? Go ahead. Tell me about yourself.”

As Sebastian spoke, MC found herself captivated by the way he carried himself – his confidence unaltered after all these years, and the assurance with which he gestured. There was an understated magnetism in the way he spoke, a reflection of the man he had become since they last parted. As he easily recounted all he had achieved, MC marvelled at the beauty of the journey that had transformed him into the person sitting in front of her.

And so, MC listened attentively, desperate to know everything she had missed about him. She thus learnt that, after Hogwarts, Sebastian had joined the Auror recruitment programme. His first reason was that it was a profession he was passionate about, and that allowed him to do what he loved all day long. The second reason – and perhaps the most important – was because he knew that this career would help him to achieve noble things. In other words, it was his way of making amends for all the mistakes he had made in the past, in the hope that Anne would eventually forgive him too (which had taken a long time, but eventually worked out).

After having been accepted into the programme, Sebastian knew that he would not be able to stay in Feldcroft, firstly because the cottage held too many painful memories, but also because it was now Anne and Ominis' shared home. Consequently, he had found himself a small studio in London, not far from the Ministry. However, even after spending several months there, it just never felt like home to him. He resented the lack of green space, and the fact that he always had to check that none of his Muggle neighbours noticed that he was a wizard. So he moved again.

Looking for a place that was both in the heart of the Highlands and still bustling with life, Sebastian found only one possibility: Hogsmeade. The small, all-wizarding village met all his expectations, and the Ministry was easy to reach thanks to the Floo Network. And so, Sebastian moved into this small cottage, perfect for his life as a bachelor.

“So Auror Sallow, huh?” MC said playfully. “Well, can Auror Sallow win a duel against Ancient Magic Prodigy MC?”

“He sure hopes he can, since it’s supposed to be his job.” Sebastian laughed along with her.

“Do you want to put yourself to the test?” She cocked an eyebrow at him mischievously.

“You know I never shy away from a duel.” He replied with the same spark of deviltry in his eyes.

Without wasting any more time, Sebastian stood up, then turned to MC, holding out his hand to help her up. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough to make MC's cheekbones turn pink, as would any act of affection she received from Sebastian.

The two took their positions, taking a few steps apart before facing each other. It had been years since they last engaged in the exhilarating dance of magical duelling, a pastime that had once defined their youth, especially after being named Crossed Wands champions for three years running.

"Ready?" Sebastian grinned, the confidence of experience illuminating his eyes.

"Always." MC replied, wand at the ready, and they prepared to rediscover the thrill that had bound them together in shared laughter and friendly rivalry.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Sebastian let MC commence hostilities.

“Expelliarmus!”

“You're off to an easy start.” Sebastian laughed after brushing the attack off with a simple Shield Charm. “Confringo!”

MC deflected the spell just as easily, smirking right back at him, “You're off to a predictable start.”

A symphony of lights ensued, as sparks and spells flew, and the air shimmered with the energy of their magical prowess. MC’s spells were fluid and controlled, a testament to the skill she had honed over the years. Sebastian, however, moved with a newfound grace and precision, his every movement reflecting the growth and mastery he had attained thanks to the Auror training.

The duelling only grew in intensity as the two friends weaved intricate spells, each trying to outmanoeuvre the other. Laughter and teasing remarks echoed through the night as memories of their youth resurfaced in the midst of their magical exchange.

After several long and intense minutes of competing against each other, Sebastian unexpectedly directed his wand away from MC, aiming instead at the ceiling, and more precisely at the chandelier hanging from it.

“Glacius!” The candles obviously failed to resist the ice and were instantly extinguished on contact, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

Distracted by the newfound refined strategy established by Sebastian – which he had no doubt learnt to put in place at the speed of light during one of his courses – MC did not notice Sebastian disappear under a Disillusionment Charm, which was all the more effective as there was hardly any light in the living room, apart from the orange flames crackling in the fireplace.

With a final, masterful flick of his wand, Sebastian cast the final blow, “Depulso.”

MC found herself propelled to the floor, her back slamming against the sofa. Judging by the underwhelming low force of the impact, it was easy to guess that he had restrained himself, so as not to hurt her.

“Looks like I've had my long-awaited revenge for fifth year. I've finally bested you in a duel." Sebastian, breathing slightly heavier but grinning ear to ear, extended a hand to help her up.

MC, refusing to admit defeat, grabbed Sebastian's hand but only to make him fall to the ground beside her. She rolled them over until she was astride him, holding him firmly down.

She grinned down at him, “Really? Because I actually think I’ve won.”

He barked a laugh, “And I think you've forgotten the rule that you're not allowed to use physical violence in a wizard duel.”

“Since when do we play by the rules?”

Their gazes met for the umpteenth time that night, but this time was different. It was as if time had come to a standstill, as if the world had momentarily stopped spinning for them, just to let them savour the closeness of the moment.

MC kept staring into Sebastian's chocolate eyes, and was truly taken aback by what she saw in them. His eyes, once full of youthful curiosity, now sparkled with a different kind of radiance. They shone with a brightness that seemed to reflect the happiness and contentment he had found in his life. The laughter lines around his eyes only enhanced their glow, and as MC looked into those bright, expressive eyes, she could not help but feel a sense of joy for the man who had evolved from the adorable teenage friend she once knew, into the confident and content individual currently lying on the ground beneath her.

In those eyes, she saw the echoes of the genuine happiness that had transformed Sebastian into the person he was meant to be, the person she should have met from the very beginning of fifth year, if only Anne had never been cursed by Rookwood.

But now Sebastian was completely fulfilled with every aspect of his life. It was as plain as the nose on his face. And the feeling was made all the clearer by the fact that his lively eyes were perfectly matched by his wide toothy grin, which shone brightly even in the middle of the darkened living room.

After eventually snapping out of her thoughts, MC pulled herself away from Sebastian and helped him straighten up, “I’m proud of you, Seb, of what you’ve become. The future Mrs. Sallow will be very lucky to have a capable man like you by her side.”

Sebastian sat down next to her on the floor, facing the fireplace, and back resting against the sofa behind them, “She’ll never be as lucky as Mr. MC will be. I hope he’ll realise he’s got the most brilliant witch of the world by his side.”

MC grabbed his arm and hugged it close to her chest, while hooking her leg over one of his. Their limbs were tangled together, clinging to each other. Sebastian seemed to have no objection to this new positioning. In fact, he seemed quite delighted as he wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the girl next to him.

“What d’you think he’ll be like, my future husband?” She asked quietly.

“He’ll have to be right for you.” He replied all too solemnly.

A small laugh escaped her, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it has to be someone who will know how to take care of you, and give you everything you need to be happy, without a single shred of hesitation. It will be someone who's worthy of standing by your side and will be able to protect you from any danger… so basically someone who'll be able to defeat me in a duel."

"Seems like I'll be stuck with you for the rest of my life, then." MC continued to smile, but it was no longer in amusement. It was something more akin to contentment.

Sebastian mirrored her expression, "Perhaps you will. I can’t imagine it'd be too bad, would it?"

"Apart from your occasional bad temper, I think I could take it." She rested her head on his strong shoulder.

MC was not sure whether it was the fatigue accumulated from her perpetual travels, or the feeling of being in a warm, comfortable home, or even the fact of being reunited with Sebastian (it was probably all three), but her eyelids became heavy without her even realising it, leading her into a peaceful sleep.

“I'm going to celebrate Christmas at Anne and Ominis' house tomorrow. You're coming.” Sebastian declared out of the blue, without realising that the girl had started dozing off.

“What? No, Seb, I can’t do that. I can’t just barge in when I wasn’t invited.” MC mumbled groggily.

“You don’t need an invitation, MC. It’s you. You’re always welcome.” He retorted instantly, as if it was the most common fact to ever exist. “Plus, they miss you, so they’ll be the happiest people in the world if you show up.”

“I won't even have a present to give them...” She muttered like a pouting small child, which made it impossible for Sebastian to hold back a chuckle.

“You're back. Believe me, that's better than any present you could buy.”

Sebastian's fingers subconsciously started tracing invisible shapes on her arm, effectively lulling her back to sleep.

❄∗❆∗❅⁂∗☃∗⁂❅∗❆∗❄

The next morning, MC was woken by the few rays of winter sunshine that the curtains had failed to hold back. Keeping her eyes closed to enjoy a few more minutes of rest, she rolled onto her stomach and was pleasantly surprised by the feel of soft sheets against the skin of her face. But what struck her most was that she could smell Sebastian's perfume all around her, as if she were immersed in one of the bottles.

Completely enveloped by the sophisticated fusion of woody undertones and hints of vetiver, and the enigmatic charm it carried, MC opened her eyes and realised that she had indeed spent the night in Sebastian's bed. On seeing this, MC let herself think that Sebastian had slept in the same bed as her, and that perhaps, with a little bit of luck, he reciprocated her feelings.

A flutter of anticipation flickered within her, one that prevented her from staying in bed any longer. Without wasting any more time, MC descended the mezzanine stairs to the living room, where Sebastian was already sitting on the couch, Daily Prophet in hand.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Sebastian greeted her with a smile when he noticed her standing at the bottom of the stairs.

MC realised he must have been up for quite some time, for he was freshly cleaned up – the lack of stubble which had been present the previous day was testament to it – and already dressed up for the imminent Christmas reunion. He was clad in a tan windowpane shirt, coupled with a gingerbread brown vest matching his tailored pants. The choice of colours could not have been more perfect. All those shades of brown brought out all his most majestic features: his unruly yet soft hair, his freckled skin, his warm and reassuring eyes…

Sebastian was making it humanly impossible to tear one’s gaze away from his god-like appearance, and MC could not resist making a comment about it.

“Morning, handsome.” She smirked playfully back at him.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever.” MC admitted, a discreet pink tinting her cheekbones. “Just a question, though. How did I get up there?”

“I carried you, of course. Couldn't let you sleep on the floor. What kind of host would I have been?”

“And… you slept…?”

“On the couch. Just like I told you I would.” Sebastian smiled tenderly.

“Right.”

And with these few simple words, reality dawned on MC. Disappointment settled in, like a gentle snowfall dampening the warm embers of her previous hope that Sebastian harboured feelings for her.

The truth was that he had chosen the sofa over sharing the bed with her, a sign that he still viewed MC as nothing more than a friend. The girl felt her heart tug, like a reminder of why she had chosen not to be part of his life any more.

MC took a deep breath, “I'm gonna go and get ready, so we don't arrive late at Anne and Ominis'.”

“Anne likes us all to be dressed up for Christmas. We can go and buy you a dress at Gladrags, if you'd like–”

She immediately shook her head, “No, no, it's fine. Don't worry, I've got everything I need.”

MC took out her wand and pointed it at her small shoulder bag on the floor. With a simple flick, the object grew tenfold in volume until it reached the size of a suitcase. MC opened it, revealing that the bag had been enchanted to be bottomless, and she climbed inside it before disappearing. All that could be heard was the sound of her footsteps, and her bustle as she went through all sorts of outfits.

“Talk about travelling light.” Sebastian snickered.

A few moments later, MC emerged back from the suitcase as if climbing a ladder, wearing an ankle-length cotton mahogany dress. The corset hugged her waist perfectly, and highlighted her bust with its square neckline and short puffed sleeves. The dress was nothing extravagant, but the fact that it fit her like a glove was what made it so charming.

“Is this dress all right? Think it'll be nice enough for Anne?” She gave it a twirl, so that Sebastian could see it from every angle, before putting on a black cloak to protect herself from the winter cold.

“It looks great. You look great. Well, not great, actually. I mean– More like stunning. You look stunning, you do. We’re even matching. The colour, I mean. Because obviously you look better than me.” Sebastian stammered awkwardly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness. “Merlin, this is awful. I need to learn to shut up.”

“It’s alright. I understood what you meant, that's the most important thing.” MC could only chuckle at his new bashfulness. She found it absolutely endearing.

Sebastian took a deep breath before speaking more clearly, “What I’m trying to say is… You're beautiful. You’ve always been.”

“Thank you, Seb.” She met his gaze, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

He tried to divert attention from his nervousness by slipping on his long black coat, and grabbing the wrapped gifts for his niece, “Ready to go?”

MC nodded in response, waiting for Sebastian to apparate them. She expected him to grab her by the arm, but instead he wrapped an arm around her waist. He brought her small figure close to him, as if he wanted to make sure that she would be comfortable during the apparition, that there was not even the slightest chance for her to get splinched.

With a loud crack, the world began to spin. Next thing she knew, MC was standing in the middle of the snowy village of Feldcroft. As she tried to right herself, she staggered slightly, dizzy from the apparition, whose effects were far more brutal when someone was doing it for you. Fortunately, Sebastian still had an arm wrapped around her waist to cradle her against him. With his other hand, he grabbed her elbow to steady her.

Once Sebastian was certain that MC was all right, he guided her towards the Sallow cottage, which she had not seen for years. From the outside, it looked much bigger than she remembered, particularly because it had an extra floor. Sebastian explained that he had helped Anne and Ominis enlarge it after their wedding, so that they would have enough room for their future family.

Sebastian was the first to set foot on the cottage porch. He hid MC behind him with his body, to create an effect of surprise, then knocked on the door. It was Anne who answered, appearing in the doorway wearing a sublime ankle-length midnight-blue velvet dress adorned with cultured pearls.

"Sebastian! I told you to buy only one present! She's going to end up spoiled rotten if this keeps up." Anne exclaimed without even greeting her brother.

"She's my only niece. Who am I to spend my money on if not her?"

"How 'bout your sister?" She raised an accusing eyebrow at him, while clearing him of all the packages in his arms.

"Ah, but I've brought a surprise for you too. Look what I found last night…" He intoned with amusement, and stepped aside to reveal MC. "A lost soul who wanted to spend Christmas alone at the Hog’s Head!"

"Oh my, MC!" Anne swiftly pulled the girl into a bear hug. "Ominis, come here!"

"What is it, sweetie?" The blond man called from afar, carrying his daughter in his arms.

Judging by the way he had stopped dead in his tracks, coming to an abrupt halt, MC knew that he had sensed her presence thanks to his sentient wand.

Sebastian decided to take his brother-in-law’s daughter off his hands, so that the two friends could reunite peacefully, "Hey, little monster! Wanna give a hug to Uncle Seb?"

Meanwhile, MC approached her old friend and spoke softly, "Hello, Ominis."

Knowing that Ominis was not very comfortable with physical contact, especially with people he did not know well, MC was not sure how to greet him. So it came as a great surprise when he made no hesitation whatsoever and took her in his arms, holding her tightly.

"I should be telling you off for disappearing... but I'm not going to. Not today." Ominis whispered in her ear.

She chuckled lightly, "I'm happy to see you too."

"Let me take your coat." He offered after pulling away.

MC untied the ribbon from her cloak, and handed it to Ominis. She then turned to Sebastian to pick up the toddler in his arms, so that he too could remove his thick winter coat.

"Hi, little princess. I'm a friend of your mummy and daddy, and your uncle Sebastian too." MC cooed in a honeyed voice. She could not help noticing that the little girl in her arms was the perfect amalgam of her two parents. She had all her mother's features, but with meadow-blonde hair and grey-blue eyes like her father.

"Unkie! Unkie!" She pouted and made big gestures with her arms to indicate that she wanted to go back to her uncle. She truly was an uncle's little girl.

"I'm here, baby.” Sebastian immediately took her back into his arms, after giving Ominis his coat, to cradle her. “You don't have to be scared of MC. She's really nice too, you know."

"Auntie?" The one-year-old asked hesitantly, reaching out to wrap her hand around MC's index finger.

"That's right, that's Auntie MC." Sebastian encouraged her. It was impressive how he naturally had his way with kids.

It may have been silly, but something as simple as being called Auntie by a child she had just met, as well as by Sebastian, awakened something in her, a sense of belonging that had been dormant for a long time. She truly felt like a fully-fledged member of this family.

Anne suddenly let out a sigh, "I'd love to be able to celebrate the reunion with you, but I've still got lots of things to do in the kitchen. Sebastian, can you look after the baby while Ominis lays the table?"

"I'll come and help you, Anne." MC declared.

"Thank you, MC. You're too kind." Anne exited the living room, followed by MC.

“So… You and Ominis, huh?” MC started once they were alone. She was sitting across from Anne at the small kitchen table which was covered in food stains from preparing the meal.

Anne immediately shook her head, “Oh, no, no. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about my marital life later. Let's talk about how you ended up here with my brother after all these years."

"We ran into each other last night in Hogsmeade. He offered me to sleep over, and we basically spent the better part of the night talking." MC shrugged.

"And?” Anne pried impatiently. “What happened?"

"Nothing. What do you want to happen?”

“Nothing. It was just a random question.” Anne replied coyly while she finished icing the Yule log. “So, update me as well. Where are you in life? Have you met anyone?”

“No, not at all. I haven't really had time for that.”

“That's a shame.”

“What – uhm – What about him?” MC did not look up from the kilted soldiers she was preparing, in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Needless to say, it was a failure.

“Who?” Anne feigned ignorance.

MC heaved a sigh, deciding to finally meet her friend's gaze, “Sebastian. Has he met anyone recently?”

Anne bit the inside of her cheek, "I think you should ask him directly."

"I'm scared it'll be awkward…"

"Well… if you want to know everything, he hasn’t courted anyone since you went away. He claims that he's not interested in dating, that he’s focusing on becoming a proper Auror first. He always finds an excuse to avoid admitting that he's already got a girl on his mind, but is too much of a coward to act upon it."

MC felt her heart skip a beat. A cold realization settled over her, making her stop everything she was doing. Her heart sank, the weight of unspoken truths pressing upon her, and she forced a tight-lipped smile, concealing the ache within as she navigated the sudden revelation that someone else was in Sebastian's heart, and it was not her.

MC swallowed thickly, "Has he known her for long?"

"Several years."

"And is she a good person? Does she treat him well?"

"He's never been happier than when he's with her." Anne admitted with a sincere smile that contrasted drastically with the unsettled look that MC was unable to disguise.

"Who is it?" She asked weakly, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I fear that’s too much information, and that's not for me to tell. Just ask him."

Without another word on the matter, Anne gracefully pivoted, excusing herself to go back to the living room and announce that the meal was ready. MC took a moment to compose herself, swallowing the bitter pill of disappointment before joining the others in the living room.

Seated at the table, surrounded by the warmth of holiday decorations and the aroma of a festive feast, the four friends engaged in a pleasant chatter. The clinking of cutlery and laughter created a veneer of normalcy. They reminisced adventures from their time at Hogwarts, shared stories about their jobs, exchanged anecdotes about Anne and Ominis’s little one, and indulged in the delights of the Christmas meal.

“So, MC, what have you been up to during your travels?” Ominis asked as he had just finished feeding his daughter.

MC swallowed her mouthful of turkey before replying, “Well, you know, trying to explore the world and discover new places. Honestly, I’ve just been searching for a place that makes me want to stay, that feels like home.”

“And have you found that place yet?”

MC was silent for a moment. How was she supposed to explain that she had found this special place years ago, but had fled far away from it, just to search the world for something similar? Because if MC was willing to face the truth, she knew that her home was wherever Sebastian was.

Sebastian was her home.

It was quite ironic that he did not feel the same way about her…

“I… I’m not sure.” MC finally said.

“…Does that mean you’ll be back on the road again?” Ominis questioned again, but this time with caution.

“Yes. I leave tomorrow morning.” MC replied resolutely.

The clatter of dropped cutlery echoed like an unintentional punctuation to the tremendous silence that followed. Eyes widened, gazes met with uncertainty, and an unspoken tension pulsed through the room.

Anne was the first to break the palpable unease by raising her voice, “What? But you just came back! You can’t leave so soon.”

The next sound came from Sebastian's chair legs scraping the floor as he stood up abruptly and threw his napkin on the table, “Excuse me. I need some fresh air.”

His eyes did not meet anyone's as he left the table. Without even grabbing his coat, he stormed out of the house. The door slammed behind him and echoed through the deathly hush inside.

"What’s up with him? Did I say something wrong?" MC asked, disconcerted. She was completely unaware of the weight of her revelation, which had hit her friends like a tidal wave.

Anne huffed in irritation before shouting at her, "Of course you did, MC! You're supposed to be his best friend! Can't you see how cruel you're being to him?"

Ominis rested a hand on his wife's shoulder, "Calm down, sweetie. It's not her fault MC is dense."

"Hey!" The girl exclaimed indignantly, but Ominis ignored her.

"Let me put it simply for you, MC. We were all hurt when you left without saying a word, but Sebastian's been a complete wreck ever since. The usual cheerful Sebastian you know was nowhere to be found for years… until today. And that's only because you came back.”

“And now, you've just brutally told him that you plan to disappear tomorrow, and take his happiness with you! Again!" Anne insisted, determined to keep rubbing it in until realisation eventually hit the girl.

Fortunately, it worked quite quickly, but now MC did not know what to do with herself, "I... I didn't know that... I thought he’d just forget about me and move on."

"I thought you knew him better than that. Haven’t you yet realised that you're everything to him? Because it's more than time you do!"

“I… need to talk to him. Excuse me.”

MC, in turn, rushed out of the cottage, only grabbing Sebastian's coat in her haste.

The freezing air greeted her as she stepped outside, snowflakes landing on her hair and the bare skin of her arms. Thankfully, it did not take her long to spot Sebastian, who had moved slightly away from the house to lean against a tree, his shoulders hunched slightly against the winter chill.

She approached him slowly, but with a determined step, the snow crunching under her feet. She knew he had heard her by the way he straightened up, even though he seemed intent on ignoring her.

“Seb, come back inside. It’s freezing, you’re gonna catch your death.” She implored him, covering herself with her arms to protect herself from the icy wind.

“What’s it to you? You won’t even be there to see it.” He replied even more coldly than the weather, without even turning to look at her.

“…Put on your coat at least.” She insisted, extending it to him.

Sebastian took the coat from her, but instead of putting it on like expected, he draped it over her, so that she would not get cold. His hands lingered on her shoulders, which were now protected by the thick felt.

At last, he met her gaze, his eyes silently pleading with her, “Am I not good enough for you to stay? Not good enough for you to notice me?”

MC grabbed his wrists as if by instinct, “Seb, of course you’re plenty enough. You’re my oldest friend–”

Sebastian sighed in annoyance and pulled away from her, “But can’t you see it’s not enough for me?”

“…What?”

Sebastian reached into his pocket, retrieving a small velvet box. He had always imagined giving her this gift with a broad smile, but now he was opening the box with a rueful frown, to reveal a delicate ring.

“I wanted to give it to you a little after we graduated. I wanted to give it to you to confess my feelings. I wanted that ring to be a symbol of my devotion, and a promise to always remain loyal to you… Turned out life had other plans because you left the day I bought it.”

“Sebastian…” MC croaked out, doing her best to fight back the tears that threatened to fall as she stared at the magnificent jewel that was the poignant representation of all the missed opportunities and lost time.

"Now’s a good time to give it to you, I think. If you’re going to leave again, might as well be honest while I have the chance, before you run away like last time." He said acrimoniously as he placed the ring on her finger.

"Wha…” The shock took away MC's voice before she could even finish her sentence. Her eyes were riveted on the golden band. “What about the girl you like? Anne told me you were interested in someone."

"The girl I like?” He laughed humourlessly. “MC, I've been ridiculously and irrevocably in love with you since fifth year, since the day you kicked my arse in Hecat’s class. You literally knocked me off my feet. I know I didn't always show it well, but it's true, it's always been you.”

MC let out a pained grunt and hid her face in her hands in shame, "Oh Merlin, Seb... I've been such an idiot."

“Why?” Sebastian frowned.

“I've always loved you too. But I was so miserable thinking I'd never be anything more than your friend, that I decided to disappear to try and forget you.”

“And? Please, tell me it didn’t work.” His words came out desperate, almost begging.

She took his face between her hands, and lovingly caressed his cold cheeks, “It didn’t. How could I ever forget you? Being away from you only made me miss you more.”

His hands came down to rest around her waist, bringing her close to his body, in search of both solace and warmth, “It's all right. We're together now. You don't have to leave anymore. All's well that ends well.”

“Well… Not exactly all. You gave me this beautiful ring, and I have nothing to give you in return.”

“I finally have the witch of my dreams back at my side. I couldn’t dream of a better Christmas present.”

Suddenly, MC and Sebastian were interrupted by a cracking sound coming from above them. They looked up and saw a branch of mistletoe sprang out of thin air from one of the branches of the tree they were standing under, its delicate white berries shimmering in the soft glow of the surrounding lights.

Sebastian looked back down at MC, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Actually… I’ve just thought of a gift you could give me.”

The snowflakes descended gracefully around them, creating a magical scene that mirrored the fluttering emotions in their hearts. In that enchanting moment, with the world cocooned in a quiet hush, MC found the fiery courage and desire to close the thin gap between them. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and their hearts were set alight, for the moment they had dreamt of most in their lives had finally become reality.

Out of enthusiasm, Sebastian tightened his grip around MC, with his arms completely wrapped around her petite frame, enveloping her in such warmth that she completely forgot they were both covered in snow. He pressed and secured her tightly against him, and lifted her off the ground. Out of reflex, the girl's hands travelled up to wrap around his neck to steady herself. Her fingertips grazed his soft curls, sending shivers down her spine.

Unfortunately, their winter wonderland moment was abruptly interrupted by the joyful cheers of their friends inside the house. MC and Sebastian reluctantly pulled away from each other, and turned in the direction of the commotion to see Anne and Ominis glued to the window to spy on them. The wand in Anne's hand was proof enough that it was she who had conjured up the mistletoe.

MC giggled, looking back at her boyfriend with stars in her eyes, and her hands resting in his chest, “Merry Christmas, Seb.”

“Merry Christmas, darling.” He answered softly before leaning in to steal another kiss from her.

MC sincerely hoped there would be another Mrs. Sallow other than Anne next Christmas, for she had finally found her home and never planned on leaving ever again.

❄∗❆∗❅⁂∗☃∗⁂❅∗❆∗❄

Part 2 : Christmas at Home (link)

[fortheloveofwonderland]

In This Diary | S.R

Summary - The summer of ‘02 was supposed to be just like any summer that had come before. Spencer Reid was mostly hoping to relax before his started his new job at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the fall. But best laid plans often go awry.

Now all these years later he’s come into possession of the diary he kept during that time and he’s forced on a trip down memory lane to a perfect Las Vegas summer in which he fell in love for the very first time. But if he’s not careful, he might allow himself to get so lost in his nostalgia he may not be able to drag himself back to the present.

A/N - this goes back and forth a lot in time, I hope it makes sense. Where there’s a page break it goes back to the present day. Based on the song In This Diary by The Ataris. Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge. Thank you again @pinkiceee-prose and @andiebeaword for reading over this 🖤

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - angst with happy ending | strangers to friends to lovers | smut minors DNI

Warnings - post prison, pot smoking, virgin Spencer, slight sub! Spencer, use of “good boy”, mild praise kink (Spencer), handjob, swearing, fingering, masturbation (m), brief mention of medication but no specifics, talk of PTSS, angst, allusions to sex, brief mention of protected sex, oral (m receiving), brief mention of past addiction and Emily’s “death”.

WC - 10.3k honestly I can’t write anything short

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…

The dogeared, weathered pages told their age beneath his fingertips, speaking their tales through skin. Smudged ink seeped through the yellowing paper, penned words of a different time etched to hold their memory. 

His fingers danced across them as though reading braille, trying to feel the words the way he had when he'd written them. So much time had passed, so much had changed, this book felt like it was from a different lifetime.

If he closed his eyes he could feel himself there. He could feel the way the hot Vegas sun beat down on him, causing little beads of sweat to roll down his face, feeling it tightening his skin. He could sense the pen in his hand as he scrawled down his thoughts, committing them to these pages. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Just writing.” 

“Writing what?” 

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” 

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.” 

He could feel the gravel beneath him, hear the occasional passing vehicle on the freeway whilst hanging out at truck stops just to pass the time. 

He could see fireworks illuminating the sky in desolate parking lots, hear their crackle and bang as they exploded and then disappeared. 

He could hear the thrum of the eighties songs through tinny speakers, even if he never really enjoyed them. He could feel the droplets of water on his frazzled skin from the splash back of a body diving into the hotel pool which was not strictly open to the public. 

It was another life, one he’d long ago left behind but still carried pieces of it with him. 

I guess when it comes down to it, being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up…

“Whatcha got there?” 

A voice snapped him out of his nostalgia and he quickly closed the old book and looked up from his desk. He blinked a few times to try and bring himself back to the present, back from memory lane which he’d started to get lost down. 

Spencer Reid was not known to be a sentimental man, in all honesty he had few good memories from his past to be wistful over. And now was not the time to start. 

Luke had an amused smirk on his lips as he looked down at the younger man and the old, tattered journal on his desk. 

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” Spencer swallowed with a shake of his head. 

“Looked like a diary.” Luke’s smile grew, his intense dark eyes full of mirth. “I saw a date in the corner? August twenty ninth two thousand and two. You'd have been…”

“Twenty two. I was twenty two. The summer before I joined the BAU.” He sighed as he spoke, not thrilled to be sharing this part of his life with Luke. 

It was unfounded, given that it was probably the happiest time of his life. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want his friends to know about it. 

There was something about keeping the memory pure, not having it sullied by outsiders. That secret summer belonged only to the two people who had lived it. 

“I didn't peg you for a journaler.” Luke shrugged. 

“I’m not usually. I don’t really know why I kept a diary that summer.” 

That wasn’t entirely true. He’d kept a record of those days in case, for whatever reason, his memory failed him. If something happened to cause his brain to forget, that was one time in his life he wanted to ensure he’d never lose. 

And since his mothers diagnosis, it was an entirely real possibility that one day he may forget. There were many moments in his life he’d like to be able to neglect, his drug addiction, Gideon’s death, prison; but the summer of ‘02 was not one of them. 

In truth he’d forgotten all about the journal. It wasn’t until his mothers move to DC when he’d been going through old boxes of her stuff that he’d found it. 

“Can I read it?” Luke’s smile turned cheeky, he already knew what the answer would be but he was just trying his luck. 

As expected, Spencer scowled, grabbing the diary and holding it close to his chest as if he believed Luke might try to snatch it from his desk.

“Absolutely not.” He wrapped it tightly against his body. 

“Ooh there’s some juicy stuff in there.” Luke chuckled.

“Don’t be crude.” Spencer scoffed but his cheeks started to redden, conveying the truth. 

“Oh man, I’m right aren’t I?” Luke’s laughter grew. 

It increased in volume enough to grant the attention from the others who had been silently working away at their desks. 

“What’s going on?” JJ perked up, her blonde head of hair appearing behind her computer monitor. 

“Reid’s got a sex diary.” Luke spoke over his shoulder to the whole bullpen.

“I most certainly do not.” His cheeks burned with his embarrassment and he shrunk a little in his chair. 

“Reid? Spencer Reid?” Tara stood from her desk, eyebrow cocked in her blatant confusion. “No way, I don’t believe that.”

“Good, because it's not true.” He held the journal closer to his chest. 

“He’s hiding something in there, there’s a reason he won’t let me read it.” Luke scoffed. 

“Did it occur to you that some people don’t enjoy sharing their entire life story?” Spencer grumbled.

By now JJ and Matt were on their feet too, and the three other agents closed in on his desk. He was thankful at least Emily, Rossi and Garcia were in their respective offices. He shrunk lower in his chair, wishing he were able to simply vanish into thin air. 

“Oh he’s definitely hiding something.” Tara folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow still raised in a combination of suspicion and delight.

“So what if I am? I’m entitled to my secrets.” Spencer complained. 

“The last time you kept a secret from us you ended up in prison.” JJ’s shoulders slumped, wincing a little at her own words. 

“This isn’t…it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “It’s just memories okay? Memories of a great summer I had before I joined the bureau and I’d like to keep them to myself.” 

“Oh it’s totally a sex diary.” Matt chuckled heartily. 

“For the love of…” Spencer trailed off, pushing himself to his feet and tucking the journal under his arm. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Can you please just respect my privacy for once? I know how hard that is for you guys.” 

“Ouch,” JJ pouted. “Sorry for caring.” 

“Jennifer, we both know this has nothing to do with you caring about me.” He clucked, pushing past the gaggle of his friends and marching out of the bullpen. 

He felt them watching him, muttering under their breaths as he walked away. He hurried down the corridor out of view until he pushed his way into the men’s bathroom. 

He slumped into a stall and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Placing the old leather bound diary in his lap he ran his fingers over the cover. 

He didn’t know why he’d let himself get so worked up over a stupid journal. Except it wasn’t stupid, far from it. It was his collection of memories from a life he wished he could go back and relive. 

The twenty two year old who’d put pen to these pages was naive and innocent, his whole life ahead of him. The boy he’d been back then didn’t know of the horrors he was yet to face. It was a much simpler time and he wanted to be able to cling to that without his friends being involved. 

For fourteen years his team had been privy to every moment of his life, good and bad. Was it so wrong that Spencer wanted to just keep this one thing to himself? 

He huffed out a staggered breath, wishing not for the first time that just cared a little less. It made sense when he was younger, he’d been green when he joined the FBI and the team had treated him with kid gloves, probably rightfully so. But he was a grown man now, older and more worldly, he didn’t need them treating him like a child.

He cracked the spine of the journal, opening it up to the first page and continued caressing the worn page with his fingers. The diary began at the end, retrospectively writing of his adventures during the last week of that summer when he realised he didn’t want those memories to escape him. 

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters.

Here in this diary he had meticulously journalled everything that transpired during his last few months in his hometown and how those moments had changed his life forever. He cautiously turned the page, careful not to tear the aged paper. 

He felt the heat rising, the sun high in the sky. He became aware of the somewhat blistering concrete beneath him, the occasional sound of passing cars. He could make out the scent of sunblock in the air, chlorine from nearby backyard swimming pools. 

Brushing his digits across the page he was transported away from Virginia, away from the bathroom on the sixth floor Quantico office. As he closed his eyes, the Las Vegas summer stretched out before him.

June 2nd 2002

The temperature edged over a hundred two days ago and the AC hasn’t worked in three years. Really need to sell the house, I must look into that when I get to DC. Mom hasn’t lived here since I sent her off to Bennington and this was the last summer I’d be needing it. 

It was cooler to sit outside, despite the humidity, it was preferable to the stuffy house with no AC. I planned to go to the library, basking in its glorious air conditioning unit but after stepping outside and immediately feeling the sweat gathering all over my skin, I decided against walking for five miles in this heat. 

And boy would I be glad for that decision. 

I’m not sure what it was that tore my attention away from the Great Gatsby that morning. I had this feeling, this inexplicable feeling running through my veins and forcing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention. 

And when I looked up, there she was. It was as though she was floating, drifting so effortlessly across the street I was sure her feet didn’t touch the ground. She regarded me curiously, most people did. She was unblinking, a slow and cautious smile building on her lips. 

I simply stared back in awe at this angelic creature heading my way, never letting her gaze falter from me. I was stunned into silence as she approached up the front path, head tilting to the side as she analysed me. 

She invited herself closer, up the three concrete stairs before dropping to the top step right next to me, opening her mouth and inquisitively speaking…

“What are you reading?” You smiled at him in what you hoped to be an amicable manner, but nonetheless his back straightened as if you posed a threat to him. 

“Uh…” he swallowed thickly, his Adams apple bobbing. “Me?” 

“Yes you.” You laughed. “Who else would I be talking to?” 

The peculiar man looked around like he expected someone else to be sitting on his stoop with the two of you. He scratched at the back of his neck nervously. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He rolled his chapped lip between his teeth. 

“I’m Y/N.” You shook your head, still laughing a little at his obvious awkwardness. 

“Sp-Spencer.” He stuttered. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer.” You nodded curtly. “I’m house sitting for my aunt for the summer, what’s good to do around here?” 

Her smile could have lit up the whole night sky, her laugh the sweetest sound I’d ever been lucky enough to hear. She was summer, she would still be summer in the dead of winter. She was magnetic, effervescent. 

She was the first drop of rain after a long drought, she was those first few seconds in the morning when you wake up where you momentarily forget all of life's problems. She was…

“Reid, you in here? We got a case.” Luke’s voice broke him out of his revere, eyes flickering off of the page up to the closed stall door. 

“I’ll be right there.” He croaked, closing the diary again. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled until his lungs were full. He counted to five in his head and listened for the door to close before he slowly exhaled. He repeated the action three more times before he trusted himself to stand. 

He swore he could still smell your perfume as he forced his way out of the bathroom and back to reality. 

***

June 14th 2002

All the nights we stayed up talking, listening to 80's songs. It still brings a smile to my face. 

Her aunt's house, which I came to learn was just up the street and had a new, state of the art AC unit fitted. The next two weeks we spent nearly everyday there listening to her favourite songs on the old stereo, most of which I’d never heard before. 

The likes of Van Halen, The Cure, AC/DC and The Pixies played on repeat while she quizzed me on my life and I on hers. She was from San Francisco and her aunt was on vacation so she’d offered to house sit for the summer. She was a year younger than me at twenty one and fresh out of college with no idea where she was heading next.

I kind of envied her, she was a free spirit, she could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted. And for whatever reason, she chose to spend her summer with me.

You hummed along to the music, Where is My Mind by the Pixies encompassing the room. You laid on your back on the couch, your feet in Spencer’s lap and the AC sending its cool waves towards you.

You cradled the blunt between your fingertips, every now and again raising it to your lips and sucking on it. The room was filling with smoke, the smell of it alone enough to make Spencer a little light headed. 

“You sure you don’t want any of this?” You spoke with a lungful smoke. 

“I’m good, really.” Spencer smiled his tight-lipped smile you’d grown accustomed to the last few weeks. 

“It would be out of your system before you start your big government job.” You giggled. 

“It’s not just that.” He shook his head. “Smoking marijuana at our age while our brains are still technically developing can affect IQ. A study showed that those who started smoking pot before twenty five lost six to eight IQ points by middle age.” 

You sat up on your elbows, your eyebrows deeply furrowed at him.

“You think it’s really going to affect your life so much if you lose a couple of IQ points, Doc?” Your lip quipped up into a smile. 

“I don’t want to risk it.” Spencer noted your slightly bloodshot eyes. 

You took another long drag, the sound of the paper crackling as it burnt filled his ears. You breathed it in before slowly exhaling the smoke out into the room. 

“Hmm,” you hummed in content, dropping the half smoked blunt into a little glass dish on the coffee table. “Now I feel light as a feather.” 

“You could get that feeling in many other ways. The main psychoactive ingredient, THC, is simply stimulating the part of the brain that responds to pleasure. It’s releasing dopamine which is what’s giving you that euphoric feeling.” He told you almost sternly.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, sitting up further so you could get a good look at him. 

“Pleasure, huh?” You clicked your tongue. 

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “It’s the same way you would respond to food or…”

“Or?” Your lip twitched.

“Other pleasurable activities.” He swallowed again, his cheeks turning slightly pink. 

You swung your legs off of his lap and shuffled closer to him on the couch. You saw him swallow yet again, noticed his chest heave with a deep breath. 

The closer you got to him the more you could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves and you dared move so you were straddling his lap. 

Your knees pressing either side of his thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and a hagged breath left between his pouty lips. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour now and from this position in his lap you knew exactly why. 

“Spence?” You whispered as he looked at you in embarrassment. 

It would be painfully obvious from where you were sitting that he was aroused and he felt so incredibly vulnerable in that moment. 

“Yes, Y/N?” He croaked. 

“What other pleasurable activities are you talking about?” 

“I think…I think you know.” 

“Hmm let’s pretend I don’t.” You smiled coyly. “After all, I’ve probably knocked off a few IQ points right? What other pleasurable activities?” 

You rolled your hips a little in his lap and Spencer mewled at the sensation. This was the closest he’d ever come to having someone other than himself touch him and he felt dizzy. He felt so dizzy that when he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d even meant to let the word slip off his tongue. 

“S-sex.” He breathed, the smile on your face growing in approval. 

“Well now, that does sound more appealing than smoking.” You edged your face closer to him, rolling your hips into his lap once more. 

He smelt your perfume and the pot on your breath. He felt like his skin was on fire and he couldn’t form a coherent thought. 

A moment before you lips touched his, the sound of a phone ring cut through the room and you sprung apart suddenly. 

Spencer remained sitting on the couch while you ambled over to the landline. He watched you go, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. 

But the erection still visible through his slacks begged to differ. 

***

He returned the journal to his satchel as the jet came into land near Dallas. He knew word of his mysterious diary had reached Emily and Rossi and the whole team had been watching him read on the flight. 

He tried to cast his memories to the back of his mind and focus on the case, people were being murdered and that had to take precedence over his nostalgic thoughts. 

Emily sent him and Rossi to the morgue and Spencer tried to pretend he was focused on a case file while Rossi drove them. He could see the older man looking at him in his peripheral vision. 

Thankfully Rossi did not ask him about the journal even though Spencer knew he wanted to. 

It was in the back of his mind all day and after he retired to his hotel room and showered, he found himself thumbing through to the next page. 

July 1st 2002

Breaking into hotel swimming pools, and wreaking havoc on our world. Does it make me completely dumb that I would follow her to the ends of the earth? 

I knew it was a bad idea, but I just can’t say no to her. She said she had something fun planned and so like an idiot I came along. 

I didn’t say anything when we jumped the fence. It was around eleven pm and all the lights around the pool were out, the stars and the moon reflecting on the still water. 

I still didn’t say anything when she started stripping down to her underwear, mostly because it rendered me speechless. The sight of her in nothing but that skimpy black lace lingerie caused me to forget my own name and I’m sure I just stared at her slack jaw. 

It’s been a few weeks since I think she tried to kiss me and she hasn’t said anything about it. I’m starting to think I misread the situation entirely. 

At least I was, until she stripped off her clothes by the side of the pool and curled her finger at me, beckoning me closer.

“You fancy a dip, Spencer?” Your voice was breathy and he followed your motion to come closer. 

“Uh, won’t we get in trouble?” He padded forward all the same. 

“Only if we get caught.” You giggled, reaching for him as soon as he was close enough. 

You gripped him by the lapels of his shirt to tug him forward before your fingers glided towards the top button. He stared at you without a word while you effortlessly popped the buttons one by one. 

Once you’d gotten the last button undone your hands moved to his shoulders and you helped push the fabric down his arms until it dropped to the floor. 

He was painfully skinny but it didn’t stop him from subconsciously sucking in his small stomach. Your eyes grazed up and down his torso, taking in every inch of skin.

He felt hot beneath your gaze despite the fact the temperature plummeted at night. He felt self conscious, not worthy of your eyes on him. But when you met his gaze again you were smiling. 

When your hands landed on the button of his slacks his breath hitched and his legs wobbled slightly. You giggled again, a sound that had become Spencer’s favourite melody over the past month. 

You made quick work of the button and zipper before hooking your fingers in the side of his pants and shimming them down his legs. 

Spencer stayed still and silent while you undressed him until his pants pooled at his feet and he kicked off his converse so he could remove them completely. 

His hands darted in front of him, trying to hide the exceedingly noticeable tenting in his tight boxers. He could tell you knew what he was trying to hide by the playful smile now on your lips. 

It was an all too regular occurrence around you. You only had to glance at him a certain way and he would be standing at full attention. It wasn’t his fault, you were unfairly beautiful. 

Suddenly you turned your back on him, floating as you so often did towards the pool. Before Spencer’s brain could catch up you were diving into the still water, causing ripples to roll out across the pool. 

A few droplets splashed up onto his face and chest. While you were submerged he moved closer to the edge and slipped into the cool water before you could have a chance to scrutinise his body again. 

When you emerged you wiped your hair off your face and found Spencer in the pool, leaning back against the wall. The water wasn’t too deep but he crouched down so it was covering him up to his chest. 

You waded towards him, eyes sparkling from the moonlight. He pushed himself back against the side of the pool, his nerves written all over his face. 

“Everything okay, Doc?” You asked as you neared him. 

“Fine, just fine.” He nodded stiffly. 

“You sure about that?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, moving dangerously closer. 

“Hmm mmm.” He tried to insist but you weren’t buying it. 

Your eyes were dark by the time you were right in front of him, almost black. The smile on your face was sinful and it made Spencer’s knees weak. 

No one had ever looked at him the way you were looking at him at that moment. He may be naive but he knew exactly what that look meant. And as if to prove that point, your right hand disappeared under the water and seconds later it was palming him through his underwear.

A pathetic whimper left his lips at the contact even though there was a layer of wet fabric between him and your hand. 

Your smile grew at his reaction, your other hand now moving to grip his shoulder. Spencer’s arms remained at his sides, his breathing already heightened. 

“Spencer?” You whispered. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”

He rolled his lip between his teeth and shook his head dispondantly.

“No,” he confessed. “I, uh, I’ve never even…kissed anyone before.” 

He felt the heat spreading to his cheeks and he was painfully aware of your hand still palming him. Your smile turned a little sad, pitying almost. 

“You want to change that?” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper. 

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “Yes p-please.” 

“So polite,” you stepped even closer. “Such a good boy.” 

When your lips finally touched his, he whined against them, feeling an explosion of emotions in one simple action. Your tongue easily made its way into his mouth and your hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his head. 

You kissed him fiercely, exploring his mouth with hunger. Spencer didn’t do much of anything, simply stood limply while you kissed the air from his lungs. 

He continued to whine against your lips when your hand started moving around his shaft. His hips started to rock against you of their own accord and he so desperately wished there wasn’t a piece of fabric in his way. 

As though you could read his mind your hand shifted and your fingers trailed across his stomach just about the waistband of his boxers. He moaned deeply and you pulled back from the kiss, a questioning expression on your features.

“Can I?” You panted as you spoke, nodding your head downwards. 

All Spencer could do was nod dumbly in response. 

You smiled before leaning in to kiss him again, somehow more ferociously than before. When your hand slid inside the sodden material of his boxers and wrapped around his length an animalistic moan erupted from his lips, swallowed down in your own mouth. 

Your small hand couldn’t quite reach all the way around his thick shaft as you started moving up and down on it. His hips started bucking harder than before, telling you he enjoyed it. 

His brain was mush, he couldn’t form a single coherent thought except how phenomenal your hand felt. His lack of awareness allowed him a little more confidence and he finally moved his arms, his hands finding your face and holding you while he kissed you. 

You smiled against his lips, the water started to lap around your bodies with your movements. You kept up a steady pace as you stroked him while removing one of his hands from your face. 

He let you guide his hand over the planes of your body until it was situated between your legs. He inhaled sharply, having to tear his lips away from yours. 

You were both panting as you looked at each other, his breathing staggered due to the way you were touching him. His hand was still between your legs, ghosting outside of your panties.

“You…you’re sure?” He breathed erratically. 

“Very.” You nodded, increasing your speed and eliciting another feral moan from Spencer. 

“I…I’ve never done this before.” 

“You strike me as a quick learner.” You smirked. 

“F-fuck…” he mumbled. “I…I am.” 

“Make me feel good, Spence. Be a good boy for me.” 

Your words of praise made him hiss, bucking hard into your hand. It was enough encouragement for him to inch your panties aside before his fingers slid beneath the fabric. 

You were surprised to say the least when one of his digits quickly found your clit and started rubbing it deftly, as though he’d done this hundreds of times before. 

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open, your grip on him faltering for a second at the sensation. 

“Fuck…” you whined, trying to focus on your strokes. “You…you sure you’ve never done that before?” 

“P-positive.” He nodded, his knees buckling as he felt precome leaking from his head. “S’good?” 

“So good, baby. So good.” You crashed your lips together again as he increased his speed, rubbing your sensitive bud like he’d been doing it his whole life. 

You squeezed the base of his shaft before matching his speed with your strokes. You were moaning into each other's waiting mouths, water frantically lapping around your bodies. 

You whined when his finger disappeared from your clit but soon two of his digits were swiping through your folds. When you felt them pressed against your entrance, begging for access, you nibbled on his bottom lip and squeezed his cock again telling him to continue. 

You moaned in unison as his two long, slender fingers entered you. Spencer felt as though he might pass out at the sensation as his fingers pushed all the way inside of you. 

He felt your shift and move around him, your walls fluttering against his digits. That combined with the way you were frenziedly pumping him caused his stomach to tighten with the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. 

“Oh my gosh you feel so incredible.” He whined, plunging his fingers deeper inside you. 

You felt him twitching in your hand, still lazily rocking into your touch. 

“Are you close, baby?” Your thighs squeezed around his hand. 

“Y-yes.” He admitted, fingers coniniting to move in and out of you, desperate to give you as much pleasure as you were bestowing upon him. 

“Come for me, Spence. Come for me.” 

He whimpered again, the pressure building in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t hold back any longer even if he wanted to. 

With a staggered moan his hips jut forward as he came in the pool, while you stroked him through his first orgasm not at his own hand. 

***

In a hotel room just outside of Dallas, Spencer narrowly managed to move the journal out of the way just in time for him to spill his load over his own hand. 

He fell back against the lumpy pillows, breathing heavily and his hand still slowly moving up and down his spent shaft. 

He glanced at the diary through hazy eyes and shook his head, removing his hand from his cock and wiping his seed on the bed sheet.

He swore he could feel your hand there even after all these years, feel the water splashing around his naked torso. 

He could feel you around his fingers, the way you clenched tighter as you came not so long after he did. 

He could still feel the weight of your body as you fell against him in the pool, head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you panted heavily into his wet skin. 

Things had been so much simpler then, he sometimes yearned for those days. A part of him wished he hadn’t found the journal in the first place then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself sucked down this particular rabbit hole. 

Despite the memories swarming his brain he fell asleep without even cleaning himself off, one hand on his rapidly beating heart and the other clutching the battered diary. 

***

July 4th 2002

Lighting fireworks in parking lots, illuminates the blackest nights. Cherry cokes under this moonlit summer sky. 

I suggested going to an organised event for the Fourth of July celebrations but she insisted that we have our own. 

She brought a ton of fireworks, it was a wonder she didn’t blow a hand off that night, fumbling to light them whilst dragging on a blunt.

But I simply watched her from the back of her aunt’s old VW Camper, sipping on my coke in absolute awe of her every move. 

Since our pool escapades the other day, every time I look at her I get chills. Every time I catch sight of her I think of the way she felt as she touched me, as I touched her…

She hasn’t even so much as kissed me since and I’m partially wondering if it was all a vivid dream. At least I was until tonight. 

You sauntered back over towards the open back doors of your camper where Spencer sat cross legged on a blanket. 

Seconds later an array of fireworks erupted in the sky over the abandoned parking lot, the sounds and the colours a feast for the senses. 

But you weren’t watching them. You were watching him. 

You crawled into the back of the van, right into his lap, straddling him as you took a long pull on the joint. You inhaled the smoke and tossed the butt over your shoulder before placing your hands on his shoulders. 

When you kissed him the smoke filtered out of your mouth and into his but he didn’t care. His arms wrapped around your waist while your tongues explored each other's mouths. 

You guided him backwards so he was laying down, his cock already fully erect and pressing against you. You laid on top of him and continued to kiss him fiercely. 

His hands found purchase on your back, gently holding you close. You were grinding against him causing him to moan into your mouth and squirm beneath you. 

He knew where this would inevitably lead if he let it. He wanted to, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of being a virgin forever and you were the first woman to ever show him this kind of attention.

But he didn’t want to just be another guy to you. He didn’t want to just be a quick lay you’d forget all about. And inevitably that’s what would happen.

It wasn’t something the two of you talked about often but at the end of summer you were going back to San Francisco and he was going to DC. If he slept with you that’s all it would ever be. And he didn’t want that. 

You continued to kiss him and grind against him but his intrusive thoughts got the better of him and all the blood that had previously been flowing south rerouted itself. He didn’t even realise until you sat back and looked at him curiously.

“Is everything okay?” You breathed heavily, lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He frowned up at you. 

“Uh…” Your eyes flicked down towards his crotch at the same time he realised he was completely flaccid. 

His cheeks burnt and he cursed his overactive brain. 

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to sit back up. 

You slid off of his lap and sat next to him while he drew his legs close to his body. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I come on a little strong.” You shrugged meekly. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just…I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m never going to see again once summer is over.” He cringed at his own words, at how needy and sad he sounded. 

Your expression turned pitying and it made him feel even more stupid. 

“I get it.” You smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“It’s kinda hard not to be.” He buried his head into his knees and hugged his arms around his shins. “I’m sure most guys, normal guys, would jump at the chance to be with a woman as beautiful as you. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do, I was always so much younger than my peers so it made sense. I wasn’t waiting or anything, not deliberately. But now the opportunity has presented itself, I don’t think I’m the casual sex kind of guy. God that sounds so lame.” 

You were smiling to yourself at how adorable he was. With his face against his knees his words were muffled but you caught the gist of them. 

You shuffled closer to him and placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his face back up so he would look at you. 

“I think that’s kinda noble.” You whispered.

“I think the word you’re looking for is sad.” He huffed. 

“No, it’s not.” You let go of his face. “I understand, Spencer. I wish I’d waited, I wish I’d waited for someone like you.” 

He let you wrap your arms around him and he leant against your chest while you held him. Off in the distance fireworks continued to illuminate the sky, the far off sound of their explosions a strange comfort. 

***

Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms somewhat aggressively after almost an hour of staring at the map of their unsubs hunting ground. 

Despite falling asleep quickly last night his peace had been short lived and he’d woken less than two hours later and couldn’t get back to sleep. 

He didn’t know why he was letting the diary affect him in such a way, shouldn’t it have the opposite result? Those entries were from the best days of his life, but maybe it served as a reminder that he could never go back to that time.

He wasn’t that naive kid anymore, he’d suffered one too many traumas in his life to ever be that kid again. Back then his most difficult decision was whether or not to have sex with a beautiful woman. He longed to have such trivial problems. 

He’d felt so stupid after the night of the fourth of July he had avoided you for two weeks after. He’d wasted what precious time the two of you had together feeling idiotic over his decision to turn you down and hidden out in the public library just to circumvent any further interaction with you. 

He turned to face the room, realising he was alone in the small meeting room. Last he checked JJ and Luke were at the table going over files, when had they left? 

He frowned to himself, reaching for his satchel and pulling the journal out, flipping to the next page. 

July 19th 2002

Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up, these are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is just following your heart, and eventually you'll finally get it right.

He closed his eyes with a shake of his head. Wasn’t that the painful truth? He’d written that particular entry with a smile on his face like the cat that got the cream. That date had been the best of his whole whirlwind summer. 

After stewing in his stupidity for two weeks he had shown up at your aunt's house unexpected and uninvited. You’d barely let him inside before he’d kissed you. And it wasn’t long at all before he was leading you back to the couch. 

“Spence, what’s going on?” You panted, looking up at him from where you laid on the couch. 

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” He was fumbling a little with the buttons of his shirt, hands noticeably shaking. 

“But I thought…you said you didn’t want this? And then you don’t talk to me for weeks and now you-”

“I was overthinking, I do that a lot. But I don’t want to overthink this.” He finished unbuttoning the shirt and dropped it to the floor before climbing on top of you and kissing you again.

“You’re sure?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Extremely.” He replied.

He snapped the journal closed before he could get carried away. He didn’t exactly go into graphic detail of what transpired on your aunt’s couch that day but it was certainly not safe for work material. 

He didn’t need to read the words anyway, he’d memorised everything about that day. He learnt by heart the way your skin felt against his, the way the two of you melted together as though your bodies somehow became one. He’d retained every little detail of how you felt, every tiny movement of your body as he’d made love to you. 

He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to. 

Just as he was slotting the diary back into his satchel, trying not to get caught up in the blissful memory, the door opened and JJ strolled in carrying two take out coffee cups. She smiled at him, handing him one of the drinks. He smiled at her in thanks.

Her eyes flitted to his open bag and the diary nestled inside. When she looked back at him she had an amused expression on her face.

“So, sex diary, huh?” She chuckled lightly.

“It is nothing of the sort.” He rolled his eyes.

“Alvez is convinced otherwise.” 

“Well Alvez doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Summer of oh-two right?” She narrowed her eyes on him, the way she did when she was trying to profile him.

“Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee. 

“Wasn’t that-”

“Yes.” He cut her off. 

The summer I met the love of my life. 

He’d told JJ snippets from that summer, she was the only one who he’d ever told. She knew as much as he’d met a wonderful woman who he’d lost his virginity to and over the course of a summer had fallen in love with her. As far as he knew she’d never told anyone. 

“So why has it gotten you so tetchy? I would have thought you’d like to relive those days?” She slid into one of the chairs sipping her own coffee but her scrutinising gaze stayed on him.

He let out a haggard sigh, taking a seat next to her and using his free hand to swipe his hair back off of his face.

“Do you ever feel like the best days of your life have passed you by?” He found himself asking. 

JJ’s expression softened, a melancholy smile adorned on her lips. She sat forward slightly in the chair.

“Is that really what you think?” She placed a gentle hand on his knee and she felt him tense up at her touch.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” He wiggled his nose, a gesture he did when he was uncomfortable. “I guess I just miss being that carefree.”

“Spencer Reid, carefree? Can’t picture it.” JJ laughed around her cup.

“Fine, maybe not carefree.” He chuckled too. “But not…this. I’m worried I’m never going to bounce back from prison. I went to therapy, I took the medication, I should be over it by now.”

“Spence, you have PTSS, that doesn’t just go away. You know as well as I do, probably better, that the symptoms can be managed, that it can remain dormant for months, even years. But the trauma you suffered is what evoked your PTSS and that doesn’t leave you. You’ll probably always be dealing with it in one way or another.” JJ squeezed his knee before Spencer moved out of her touch. 

He knew what she was saying was right and that’s what made it harder to hear. PTSS was something he would always live with, something that could always be triggered in the future. He’d created coping mechanisms, dealt with his trauma but it didn’t make it go away, it would never just vanish into thin air. He could never undo the damage that had already been done. 

“I thought reading that journal would help me feel like my old self but it’s having the opposite effect. Because I’m never going to be that kid again.” He shook his head sadly. 

“And why would you want to be?” JJ scoffed.

“Excuse me?” He frowned at her.

“Spence, I knew you at twenty two. You were painfully shy and awkward. It took you years to be able to look me in the eye. You’ve changed so much in the years I’ve known you and that’s not a bad thing. You’re better at your job, you’re a better man now than you were at twenty two, you have to see that?” She hoped her words were getting through, hoped he would listen to her before he fell into a self pity spiral he may never get out of. 

He exhaled shakily, taking another sip of coffee while he tried to come up with a response. But he didn’t have to, as soon the door was opening again and Luke entered the room. And Spencer quickly jumped up and returned to his map, effectively shutting down any further conversation on the subject. 

***

August 6th 2002

Hanging out at truck stops, just to pass the time. Watching the slew of cars fly by on the freeway, eating bags of chips while she tossed stones out into the rolling desert beyond us. 

“Remind me again why we’re here?” He asked you as you flung another stone off into the distance. 

You turned to face him, both sitting in the gravel, leaning up against the side of the truck stop building. 

“Why not?” You quipped. 

“There are countless other more interesting things in Las Vegas than sitting at a truck stop. You’re only here a few more weeks and I thought you wanted to see the city?” 

“I have seen the city.” 

“You’ve seen abandoned parking lots, old motel swimming pools and the inside of your aunt’s house.” He shook his head. 

“Hmm,” you mused. “I have been very acquainted with her ceiling these past few weeks.” You winked at him and his cheeks immediately burned at the insinuation. 

It wasn’t a lie. The last couple of weeks the two of you had barely left your aunt’s house in lieu of making the most of each other's company whilst wearing as few clothes as possible. 

Spencer wasn’t strictly complaining about that, sex with you was one of the wonders of the world and he’d happily do it for the rest of his life. But he was painfully aware of what little time you had left together. 

“It’s a pretty good ceiling.” He swallowed thickly, having had his own share of experiences in which he was staring at that ceiling too. 

You giggled and it was literally music to his ears. You tossed another stone before suddenly getting to your feet. 

Spencer followed suit, brushing the dirt off the back of his slacks. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you took hold of his hand and started leading him around the side of the building. 

“Where are we going?” He asked, not that it really mattered. He’d long ago realised he would follow you anywhere. 

“You’ll see.” You giggled again, giving his hand a squeeze. 

He followed you inside a grimy and slightly dilapidated bathroom, eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion. 

When you let go of his hand and locked the door, his stomach coiled into knots and his cock immediately started to come to life. 

“Y/N?” He breathed. “What are we…why are we…?” 

You laughed and took him by the hand again, leading him into a stall. The door was coming off of its hinges and the tiled floor was dirty and cracked. You didn’t seem to notice. 

You pushed him up against one of the walls in the stall and started kissing him with ferocity. He kissed you back, trying to ignore the stench of a bathroom that was long overdue for a good clean. 

He didn’t really have much time to dwell on such trivial things however as soon as you were dropping to your knees on the filthy floor and looking up at him through your lashes. 

The simple action had him standing at full attention, his stomach tightly coiled. He’d dreamed of what it would be like to have you go down on him but never imagined it would happen. 

He was too polite to ask and too innocent to assume. But it hadn’t stopped him from imagining it countless times. 

You smiled at him, toying with the button of his slacks and chewing seductively on your lip. 

“Is this what you want, Doc?” You breathed. 

“You have no idea.” He nodded somewhat frantically. 

“Be a good boy and say it for me. I can’t read your mind.” You teased. 

The idea of dirty talking in any way would have normally freaked him out but it had become clear to both of you early on that when you called him a good boy he’d do just about anything. 

“P-please,” he whined, bucking his hips. “Please s-suck my cock.” 

You hissed at his words, teeth sinking deeply into your own lip. 

“Oh you’re so good, Spencer. Such a good boy for me.” You popped the button as a reward. 

“Your good boy.” He agreed with a whimper. 

“My best boy.” You smirked, tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees in one swift move. 

He gasped as the stale air hit his erect cock and pushed himself back against the stall wall. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip as your index finger ghosted up and down the throbbing vein that ran the length of his shaft. 

His knees were already quaking, desperate to feel your lips wrapped around him. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer as soon you bowed your head, parted your lips and took his head into your mouth. 

His eyes rolled back in his head in an instant and the sounds coming from his lips could only be described as feral as you slowly took him all the way in your mouth. 

He yelped when he hit the back of your throat, partly through pleasure and partly through fear he might hurt you. He knew he wasn’t exactly small, not quite so naive as to be blind to the fact he was sporting an above average sized package. 

But to your credit you didn’t even so much as gag and when you looked up at him through your lashes again, nose buried in his pubic hair, he swore you were smiling. 

***

At the back of the jet Spencer tried to rearrange his satchel in his lap to disguise his growing erection from anyone who might pass him by. The mere thought of that day you’d given him his very first blow job was enough to make him strain at the front of his slacks. 

The case in Dallas was wrapped up in just two days despite Spencer’s lack of concentration and he was so pleased to be heading home. 

He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the headrest and trying not to think about that day but failed miserably. 

Getting to come while he had sex with you was incredible, of course, but being inhibited by condoms always left him feeling a little incomplete. But the feeling of coming down your throat, having every last drop of his arousal swallowed down while you smiled at him was out of this world. 

He whimpered a little under his breath, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. He grit his teeth together hard and opened his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else. 

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters…

“What are you doing?” You sing-songed, dropping yourself next to him on the couch. 

“Just writing.” He hurried to close the journal before you caught sight of anything.

“Writing what?” Your eyes were sparkling playfully at him. 

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” He shrugged, hugging the book to his chest. 

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.” 

Three days later, on September first, you’d been leaving Vegas, waving to him from the rear window of the bus taking you to the airport. 

***

September 1st 2002

I don’t know why but some reason I genuinely thought this summer might never end. Time is just a construct right? Maybe this summer could last forever. 

More logically, or maybe less depending on how you look at it, I think I actually thought she’d stay, come with me to DC. I asked her to, although I don’t think she realised I was being serious. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Just writing.” 

“Writing what?” 

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” 

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.” 

“I know, I’m just scared for this to end. I…Y/N I have fallen in love with you. Don’t go back to California, come to DC with me instead.”

She’d simply laughed as though I’d told the world's funniest joke, patted me on the shoulder and said, “oh wouldn’t that just be the dream, Doc?” 

That was three days ago and she hasn’t brought it up since and neither have I. And today I helped her with her bags to the bus station so she could leave me forever. 

Get on the bus, it's time to go. 

“I am gonna miss you, you know, Doc?” You toyed with his lapel, the sweetest of smiles on your face. “I had a way better summer than I planned for.”

“M-me too.” He croaked, stupidly feeling hot tears brewing behind his eyes. 

“Don’t be sad, you’re leaving for Quantico next week. Your dream job, remember? You're going to be saving lives and kicking ass. You’ll forget all about me.” You smiled. 

“Doubtful.” He huffed. 

The engine of the bus roared to life behind the two of you and your smile turned a little sad. You breathed out before leaning in close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“You have to forget me, Doc. Summers over.” You whispered against his lips and before he could reply you were turning away and sauntering to the doors of the bus. 

His heart constricted in his chest, tears encompassing his vision. Nothing about this was fair even though he’d know all along you’d be leaving. It didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. 

He rubbed his eyes heavily before your face appeared at the back window. You were still smiling but if he didn’t know any better he swore your own eyes were filled with tears. 

The sound of the doors closing caused his chest to tighten further. This was it. It was over. You were leaving. 

As the bus rumbled into gear and started forward, you waved to him and his tears broke free. He raised his hand and waved back while they rolled down his cheeks. 

He stood on the sidewalk waving as the bus started its journey, watching as the only woman he would ever love was cruelly taken away from him. 

***

He rolled his neck as he ascended the stairs to his apartment after a long metro ride home from Quantico. He freed his keys from his satchel, fingertips brushing over the worn leather cover of the journal as he did so. 

He’d never be that innocent twenty two year old again. But was that really such a bad thing? Maybe JJ was right, he was better at his job, he was a better man now than he had been back then. Getting caught up in this wave of nostalgia was foolish.

Ultimately Spencer knew he wouldn’t go back to that age for all the money in the world. That summer might have been the best of his life, but it wasn’t as though his life had been terrible after that. Things sometimes had a way of working themselves out, the universe had its own plan for everyone. 

And despite the trauma thrown his way, the universe hadn’t been entirely merciless towards him. 

He found himself smiling for the first time in days as he slotted the key in his apartment door. He’d been thrown a lot of curveballs in his life, dealt a hand that no one person should have to tackle alone. 

But then he never really had been alone, had he? 

He turned the key and pushed open the door, the light from the lamp next to the couch illuminating the room in the homely glow he loved so much. 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee met his nose, wrapping him in its warmth. He smiled brighter, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his satchel. He pulled out the journal and cradled it under his arm. Then he turned towards the couch and the body sat upon it, his smile grew tenfold. 

“Welcome home, Doc.” 

Get on the bus, it's time to go. 

He continued to wave dumbly as the bus got further away, tears streaking down his cheeks and he feared they may never end. 

He even kept waving when the bus came to an abrupt stop, even carrying on when the doors swung open and you appeared on the sidewalk. 

He finally lowered his hand when you started running towards him, tears rolling from your eyes and a frantic expression on your features. 

“You meant it didn’t you? When you asked me to come to DC with you, you meant it. You meant it and I knew you did but I laughed because I was scared.” You spat out, speaking so fast all your words rolled into one. 

“I did mean it.” He croaked, scared to reach for you in case you vanished in a puff of smoke. “And I also meant it when I told you I love you.” 

“I, uh…” your voice cracked and you scuffed your toe on the concrete. “Would it be utterly crazy if I did come with you to DC?”

“Probably.” He nodded. “Realistically we barely know each other. We might come to find when we learn more about one another that we don’t actually like what we find. Take me, I’m neurotic, I’m a neat freak, a germaphobe. I own too many books, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked, I’m-”

“Spencer?” You chuckled through your tears, cutting him off of his rant.

“I ramble when I’m nervous.” He sighed. “But I do know that I love you. And I’m almost positive that I will love every little thing about you, most likely for the rest of my life. So it is probably crazy of you to come to DC with me, but I hope you do it anyway.”

“Spence?” You smiled, wiping at your tears. “I love you too, and I’m positive I will love every little thing about you too. For the rest of my life.” 

Spencer let out a shaky breath of relief and wiped his own tears moments before you fell into his arms and kissed him more fiercely than you ever had before. And you both knew no matter how crazy it was, it also made absolutely perfect sense. 

“Good to be home, angel.” He kissed you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to hold you close. 

He always did that, despite how many years it had been. Regardless of the fact you’d now been together since you were twenty one years old and he was twenty two, in spite of the fact you’d married him, he always felt the need to keep you as close as humanly possible as though afraid he may lose you like he almost had all those years ago.

“Missed you.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“Missed you more.” He replied.

When he broke away from you, your eyes landed on the diary and you laughed, tugging it free of his grip. 

“JJ called me this morning and said you’d been pining over this thing.” You ran your fingers over the worn cover. 

“Best summer of my life.” He smiled as the two of you sank to the couch.��

Spencer wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you nuzzled against him, still toying with the old diary. 

“Mine too. But we can’t live in the past forever. And I don’t know about you but I’m pretty happy right here in the present. And I’m certain our future is going to look pretty damn good.” You took his hand in your free one and brought it to your lips so you could place delicate kisses on his knuckles. 

He’d been so sure as he watched that bus pull away that he would never see you again, that he had lost a piece of his heart forever. The summer of ‘02 he had met the love of his life and he had counted his lucky stars every day that he was also the love of yours. 

You’d stayed by his side through every hurdle. You’d helped him get clean after his addiction which could have torn the two of you apart, held his hand through every single NA meeting and soothed him through withdrawals.

You’d gone to every doctor's appointment with him while he was suffering from debilitating headaches, dried his tears when he thought Emily had died and held his hand at the funeral. You’d felt his anger towards JJ and Hotch when Emily came back from the dead. 

You’d done the same when Gideon died, when Morgan left the team and then Hotch. You’d visited him every day in prison and told him on every visit that no matter how long it took you would be waiting for him when he got out. 

“Until death do us part, Doc. I didn’t take our vows lightly.” 

He held you closer, trying to communicate to you just how much your love and support had meant to him over the years. 

“Have I ever thanked you for getting off that bus?” He sighed in content. 

“Only every single day since.” You giggled, still after all these years his absolute favourite sound in the world. 

He laughed with you, holding you impossibly closer and breathing in the scent of your perfume he still loved so much. 

One summer had turned his whole life upside down. One glorious summer changed everything. That summer and the memories the two of you had created would forever live on, even without that old journal. But you were right, he couldn’t live in the past forever, nor would he want to. His present was as close to perfect as it could possibly be. 

And even in the coldest depths of winter, you would always be the summer of Spencer Reid’s heart. 

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had.

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[loveinhawkins]

Steve doesn’t think anything of it when he says it.

He’s lying on Robin’s bed, squished between a diverse collection of childhood teddy bears. Robin’s sat opposite him up by the headboard, her feet knocking against his knees; she’s massaging Pond’s cream into her elbows, and the room smells of cocoa butter.

Steve breathes in leisurely.

He thinks back to just a few months ago, when he’d first gotten the job at Scoops Ahoy—when he’d found out that his only co-worker was going to be a Robin Buckley: who the hell is she? he’d thought with a familiar carelessness, an echo from his junior year. Before the monsters. Before…

“Hey, Robin,” Steve begins. The words come slowly, like he’s wandering through the thought. “Do you ever think that, like… that it’s kinda crazy, y’know, how we ended up here?”

Robin pauses in her massaging. She gives him a dry look. “This is a pretty standard Sunday evening for me.”

Steve snorts. “Not like that, dickhead.”

Although maybe it is like that actually.

Maybe it’s about how he now watches Murder, She Wrote in the Buckley’s living room without Robin’s parents batting an eye; how they said he could join them for dinner beforehand, and then he kept showing up earlier and earlier to the point where him and Robin just spend the whole day together, and it’s never awkward, there’s no quips or whatever from her dad about them secretly being together; and maybe it feels sorta like a fairytale in the best way; maybe he feels a little like Laurie except he doesn’t want to propose to Jo.

And maybe it’s that the whole thing is just insane: that the entire goddamn trajectory of his life somehow took this wild turn, has made him land here, of all places, and he doesn’t even mean it in an asshole kind of way.

He means…

“Guess I’m just… just thinking. Like, it all kinda worked out, y’know?” Even as he says it, he knows it’s a risk—because they’ve not talked about Starcourt, not really, they’ve just talked around it, but this hardly counts, right? It’s just a joke, it’s just… “Yeah, I, um, got my head knocked around, but, it, uh, it meant I ended up here, so.”

He wants Robin to laugh—or at least, he thinks he does.

She doesn’t. She just goes very still.

He feels something twist in his gut; she’s got this way of looking at him, like he’s accidentally said more than what he thought he did.

“Steve.”

Robin crawls forward, clumsy and urgent. She grabs hold of his wrist. He feels the grease of body lotion as her thumb moves in tiny circles against his skin.

“That didn’t need to happen,” she says so seriously, and for some reason that’s almost the thing that does it, the thing that almost gets him to break on a slow Sunday evening in October, because whenever his stupid brain brings him back to July, to blood and pain and a deep, unimagineable fear, he tries to remember how it felt: how he laughed through it with Robin in a bathroom stall, and it would almost be enough to soothe the sting, that he could endure it, could endure anything so long as he could have this, please just let me have—

“We could’ve had the most boring summer of our lives,” Robin says, with a smile that’s a little sad, a little wistful, but always kind. “And I still would’ve…”

He hears them again, those words he’s been clinging to.

Listen to me, Steve. It's shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you.

“It just would’ve taken longer,” Robin finishes. Her eyes dart all over his face, and he suspects that he knows part of what she’s seeing: the ghosts of bruises. “Okay?”

For a moment, Steve can’t speak. “Okay.”

Robin shuffles up next to him, sitting right on top of one of her bears—“You’re squishing him,” Steve points out, to which Robin just snorts—and then she’s hugging him, maybe tighter than he’s ever been hugged before.

He lets his head fall forward and breathes.

They break apart eventually. If there’s a wet patch on her shirt, Robin doesn’t point it out—just says there’s cake for dessert, and she doesn’t move back to her spot, so her elbows are practically always in danger of catching Steve in the ribs.

And God, Steve tries to believe it: that he could have all of this without… That he could’ve always had it.

He tries.

[tumbleweed-run]

Future Plans

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 8 Breeding

“I’m thinking these with the pork we just got would be good for dinner tonight,” Gale said over his shoulder as he held up an apple, rolling it over in his hand to inspect it. 

Of course, it was then that he realized Tav wasn’t actually behind any longer, which would explain the odd look the merchant was giving him. He sighed heavily and turned to scan the area. She was easily found not far down the road, interestingly there was a small swarm of children standing around her watching as she tossed a ball in the air before catching it, where it then seemingly vanish. 

It was an odd quirk of hers, collecting children as one might plants or stones. He’d noticed it not long after they met when she’d somehow befriended just about every Tiefling child in the grove. It continued on through every phase of their journey. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that drew children in, there were any number of admirable traits she possessed that were capable of that.

He made his way to her, apples forgotten. 

As he approached, she caught his eye and grinned. With a bow, she pulled the ball out of wherever she’d hidden it. The children laughed, some clapped. When she handed the toy back to one of them a few made sad noises but otherwise didn’t interfere with her weaving her way out of the crowd she’d drawn. 

A vision of her pregnant swam into Gale’s vision and left him with a strange sense of wistfulness. 

“Sorry,” Tav told him, smiling. 

“You do always seem to amaze the children,” Gale told her, this time catching her hand in his to prevent any further wandering. 

“Of course,” she agreed, tugging on his hand so she could lean over and peer at one of the many vendors lining the road, “children love magic.”

“And I’m sure you’re aware that that isn’t-”

“Have you,” Tav said turning to Gale abruptly, reaching up to tap his nose with a finger, “considered being fun?”

Gale rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at his lips. “I am quite fun,” he argued.

Tav merely laughed at him. 

It was an image he couldn’t shake, even days later. Gale found himself thinking of it, Tav pregnant, in the oddest moments. Found himself lingering inside her a while longer than normal after they made love. It was silly the way the thought of her becoming pregnant almost spurred him on for round two. 

They’d talked about kids in the past and there would no doubt be at least one future Dekarios. The time was not now, though; their wedding wasn’t so far off, and they were busy planning the trip they’d take after. They both wanted an adventure, just the two of them, and with lower stakes than their initial one. So Tav getting pregnant right now would be poor timing all around. 

So why did the idea stick with him?

“What is going on inside your head right now?” Tav asked from across the room. She was watching Gale through the mirror of her vanity as she got ready for bed. 

Gale let the book he’d been meaning to read drop into his lap fully. “Not whatever this it,” he admitted and looked down to see exactly which book he’d dragged into their room. A Brief History of Undermountain. Well then, he didn’t feel so bad, this would only be the fourth time he’d read the book. 

“But?” Tav prompted as she stood and made her way across the room. Instead of walking to her side she came and stood by him. 

Gale peered up at her as he closed the forgotten book. She took it from his lap, peered down at the title, and discarded it on the dresser. 

“You.” He said in half-truth.

Tav climbed onto him then, sitting so her knees were bracketing his hips and she was facing him. “As flattered as I am that’s not it.”

Gale sighed. “Children of all things,” he admitted. 

“Changing your mind?” Tav asked, her eyes roaming over his face. 

He shook his head. “No, just the thought that I would very much like to put our child in you.”

Tav smiled sweetly, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Gale…” she began

He pressed his own hand to hers. “I know, not now.” He agreed. “But you must admit it paints a stirring image. The merging of ourselves to create something entirely new.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “I, for one, cannot wait to deal with my own child summoning creatures into the house.”

Gale growled playfully and turned to nip at her palm. Tav laughed and tried to wrestle her hand away but he firmly caught it in his own. He licked a line up her palm, causing her to shriek and try to wiggle away. 

Swiftly, he grabbed hold of her waist and flipped them. Tav was now laying on her back, blanket trapped between them. She blinked up at him in response to the sudden movement. 

“Maybe it’s just the idea of all the sex we’ll have that you want,” her tone was teasing. She dragged her foot along his thigh before hooking her leg at his back. 

Gale allowed himself to be pulled against her, dropping his head down to press a kiss to her throat. “I very much like the idea of filling you daily until we get our babe out of it,” he said against the skin of Tav’s neck. 

“Oh,” she dragged out the word, not unaffected by the image Gale was painting. 

“Every day, until we’re successful,” he pressed a kiss between every word as if to make a point. 

Tav’s hips ground against his. “Sounds like a lot of work,” she breathed.

“Maybe we should practice,” Gale suggested and reached between them to pull the blanket out. 

Tav laughed and shifted around to make his task easier. “I think that is a fine idea,” she said when he finally succeeded. 

Gale leaned up and captured her lips with his. She was eager to return the kiss, hands moving to his shoulders simply to hold him there. He rolled his hips against hers and she gasped. He took advantage of the moment and licked his way into her mouth, hips rocking against her all the while. 

He ran his hand down her thigh moving the fabric of her nightgown out of the way as he did. Gale laughed, breaking their kiss to press a series of smaller kisses against the side of her mouth. There was nothing more between them then the thin material of her nightgown and he own clothes.

“Hoping for something?” He teased, scraping the blunt edges of his nails against the flesh of Tav’s exposed hip. 

She grinned. “A girl can hope.”

It was easy enough to slide the rest of the material up, pooling it around her middle, leaving Tav blissfully naked from the waist down. 

Gale sat up on his knees, her leg falling back to the bed, to admire the sight for a moment. She was beautiful beneath him. Tav was always beautiful to him he had to admit. He’d loved her in the heat of battle and he loved her now in the soft quiet of their bedroom. Gale watched her a few moments longer until she squirmed and looked away from him. 

“I am beyond lucky,” He murmured and worked to remove his clothes, the final barriers between them. 

Once Gale was naked, he laid back down between her legs. Tav turned her head back and looked up at him. She then pressed up for a kiss as he leaned over her, one he willingly gave. 

A small shift and he slotted himself between her folds. Gale was normally one to pull at least one orgasm from his partner before getting to the main event, so to speak. Tonight was different though, he needed to be inside of her. Soon, preferably. 

Tav seemed to sense his need and drew her leg around him, encouraging him. 

Ever happy to oblige Gale slowly pressed himself into her. He happily realized she was wet enough that there was no need to disentangle themselves to add oil. Tav was urging him forward, gently squeezing her leg against his thighs. Gale had no desire to rush, simply pushing forward until he bottomed out and then not moving. He showered soft kisses across Tav’s jaw, trailing down as far as he could comfortably go until reaching her collarbone. 

Only once she was squirming did he slowly pull out again, until just the tip of his cock was left buried in her. Only to just slowly begin the same movements over again. 

In a testament to Tav’s patience she allowed him to repeat this same excruciatingly slow roll twice more before growling in frustration. Gale hung in head in an effort to hide the grin he wore at the situation but the way her heel dug into his backside told him she knew.

Swiftly she pushed on his shoulders and twisted her hips to roll them over. Gale allowed himself to be moved onto his back, managing to keep from pulling out of her throughout the whole movement. Once she was seated comfortably atop him, Tav smiled down, pleased with herself. His hands came to rest on her hips. 

Despite her previous frustrations, the roll of Tav’s hips started slow. He was happy to watch and allow her to do whatever she wished. Gradually, she began moving earnestly. Picking up speed and lifting herself up just enough to slip back down. Gale waited for her to find a rhythm before beginning to roll himself up to her. 

It wouldn’t be enough for him, and likely she knew that. Gale didn’t try and change her movements at all. Sweet little moans were punched from Tav’s lips each time she allowed him to bottom out inside of her. Her head was tilted back, a flush dragging down her neck to her chest. He loved watching her chase after her pleasure and would have been content to lie there for hours letting her use him like that. 

Tav leaned forward, one hand braced on his chest and tried to spread her thighs impossibly more. Gale knew what she wanted and allowed his hand to travel to where they joined. Gently he slid his thumb to her clit, Tav cried out at the first brush against it. Her cries devolved into low moans as he continued to rub circles against the bundle of nerves. 

Gale braced his heels against the bed, free hand holding Tav’s hip firmer, and began thrusting up into her. Her nails raked against his chest as she flexed her hand in and out of a fist, seemingly unaware of the red scratches she was carving into him. He didn’t mind, welcomed it even. 

“Gale,” she whined.

Nothing further followed but he knew what she needed. He circled his thumb faster on her clit, hips thrusting in time to meet every drop of hers. He felt her cunt begin to flutter around him as she cried out again. 

Gale quickly rolled them so Tav was on her back again. His thrust were sporadic lacking any kind of finess as he fucked her through her orgasm. She was gripping his shoulders, nails digging in as she writhed against him. Greedily he began chasing his own release. 

It didn’t take long, Tav’s sweet noises and the feel of her aftershocks squeezing around him pushing Gale over the edge not long after her. He pinned their hips together as he spilled deep inside of her, unable to keep from doing that even now. She rolled languidly against him. 

“I love you,” Gale murmured and pressed a kiss against her shoulder. 

He sat up, slowly allowing himself to pull from inside of her. 

“And I love you,” Tav answered, watching him from beneath heavily lidded eyes. 

Gale glanced down and watched as a small amount of cum slowly began leaking from inside of her. He didn’t think, mere pressed his thumb against it and slowly pressed it back into Tav. 

She snorted. “I think there may be something wrong with you,” her tone was light and he took no offense. 

Instead Gale pressed the pad of his thumb into her further, keeping anymore of his spend from leaking out. 

[missmielyhoran]

Better Than Revenge

after your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend, you want revenge, and luckily, he has a very hot brother...

[Warning- Smut, Revenge sex, name calling, cheating (both Harry and reader gets cheated on), unrotected sex (pulling out doesn't make babies or std go away), Just me being a petty bitch tbh]

A/N- She's a short one

Masterlist

*****

Two people you trusted your whole life with.

Two people who knew your ups and downs.

Two people who knew your darkest secrets.

Two people who decided to forget all the years together and stabbed you in the back.

And they deserved everything that was coming for them.

You knew your "best friend's" parents were super stricts, relationships and boys were out of the door for them so fucking your best friend's boyfriend? You knew she be in deep shit.

So you sent them screenshots of their chats along with a picture of her riding him.

Did it make you sad to do that to someone you were ready to take a bullet for? yes

Did it also feel great to get back at her? fuck yeah.

Now for your tool of ex-boyfriend you knew exactly what to do.

You see, William was jealous of his brother, not only cause he was the better looking of two but also cause he did so without any effort and unlike him he was kind.

You also might or might not have had a little crush on him in the start.

You walked quitely into your ex-boyfriend's house, making sure he didn't see you and then tip toed to his brother, Harry's room. Quickly, you got inside and locked the door behind you, hearing for any noises.

"Y/N?" He called out. You turned to see him, cozy in grey sweatpants and an oversized sweater sitting on his desk with books opened, headphones on probably doing his homework, "Are you okay? Did Will do something?" He asked.

"Do you know where your girlfriend is?" You asked him. He tilted his head to the side, confused and shook his head. You sighed, understanding that he didn't even know what had been going on for the past four months and then felt bad for what you were about to tell him.

"Your girlfriend and my best friend is fucking your brother" You said rolling your eyes. You walked beside him near the deak and showed him your phone, the pics sent by your friend, and the texts.

Harry watched everything in horror, feeling sadness overtake him. It wasn't like he was in love with her or that they were serious or something, but getting cheated on sucked especially when it's your own brother.

That was the part that hurt him the most. His own blood did this to him.

After the sadness came anger and he saw red. He gave you your phone back and started walking towards his bedroom door, ready to beat Will's ass.

But you stopped him.

You knew Will only did this to get a reaction out from Harry. It felt like he always had to do something to have an upper hand over his brother, whether it's was right or wrong,

and you had a better plan for revenge anyway.

*****

The car was now fogged up as Harry removed his lips from yours, travelling south to your jaw.

"Fuck" You whimpered out at the feeling and started to grind your hips over base of his cock sitting on his lower belly.

You questioned yourself right then. Why were you with the other brother anyway? William was attractive don't get her wrong, but Harry? He looked like he belonged in an art gallery.

Especially naked.

"God, you're so pretty. Why the fuck were you with that piece of shit?" He asked bucking his hips upward sending shock waves through your body as it rubbed over your throbbing clit.

"Don't know" You moaned grinding your hips faster, "You have bigger cock anyway" Your head fell on his shoulder, the tingling on the end of your spine threatened to unravel.

"Yeah," He said, chuckling. His right hand went to your wist while his left came up to your neck, seizing all your movement. He pulled your head back, forcing your eyes open.

"Want me to fuck you dumb baby?" He asked rhetorically, "So good you will not even remember his name" He said pushing you back a bit, with his right hand he lined up his dick to your weeping pussy.

He looked up, and you gave him a nod. That's all needed cause, next thing you know he's slamming into you.

You let out a broken, loud moan, not even bothering to concel your noises. The thrill of revenge fucking in your ex boyfriend's favourite car knowing he was about to walk towards you two any minute with your "best friend" drove you crazy.

His left hand stayed on your neck while his right slide down your body again and rested on your clit. He didn't even apply pressure, just a feather of touch, making you want more yet still feeling too much.

Harry didn't know if it was the anger or that you looked like an absolute sin riding his cock that made him want to just stay there forever, in your warm tight cunt.

How could that fucking idiot cheat on someone like you?

But he had a feeling Will only dated you cause he knew Harry once had a crush on you, and he would get one more opportunity to tell everyone he's with the girl his brother had a crush on.

Or how much of a loser Harry is.

Well, who was the loser now, though?

"God, look at you, baby. Haven't got a good dicking in a while have you?" He mocked, "You're almost gagging for it" He shook his head taunting, and smirked when your clenched around him as an approval.

"Fuck no" You panted out, "Had to get myself off myself after sex. Fuckwit didn't even know where clit was" You laughed along with Harry.

"Poor baby" He pouted and slid down a little in the seat planting both legs on the car floor and then fucking up into you with an unforgiving pace.

He was feeling his orgasm close and seeing the time on his phone sitting beside him he knew Will was about to walk towards the car to go out with his friends and he wanted you coming right in front of him.

"You gonna come, baby?" He asked applying a bit pressure on your clit, his hand move from your neck to your behind groaping your ass.

"God she could never feel like this, your pussy feels so good like it was made for me. My personal little fleshlight" He said sucking hickeys on your neck. He wanted everyone to see what he did to you, wanted everyone to know he made you limp walk next day in college.

He also knew he would be back begging you to fuck him again.

You looked out of the window and saw the main door open. Will and Mia walked towards the car, giggling, unaware of what was going on inside.

Harry felt his phone chime beside him and saw a 'miss you' text from his girlfriend ex-girlfriend.

He decided not to reply and rubbed your clit faster making your moans along with his louder.

"Have all mind to just come inside you, babe. Have you knocked up and let everyone know you're mine and not that dickhead's" He said with his pace now faltering, his own orgasm approaching.

"Yes, please," you whined out and leaned down to kiss him. It was a mess of teeth and tongue, and you came all around his cock with a loud moan.

Harry not far behind pulled out of you and came all over your pussy and lower tummy, your lips not leaving his once.

"What the fuck?!" A feminine scream came from beside him and you smirked against his lips feeling the satisfaction seep into you. You bit down on Harry's lips, making him whimper for change.

You pulled away to see the two people looking at you with wide eyes. William's angry eyes on his brother while Mia's flicked between you two.

"What is all this? You whore, I didn't gave you attention for few days and you fucked my brother!" William screamed reaching out his hand to probably yank you away from Harry but before he could Harry stopped his hand and twisted it as far as he could making him cry out in pain.

"Fucking touch her and see what happens" he growled and you sweared your pussy skipped a beat.

"You're my best friend. How could you do this?" Mia started crying, and you rolled your eyes at her audacity.

"You have been fucking mine for four months. You have no place to talk about girl code" you said, looking her straight in eyes and seeing them widened in horror and realization.

"I- That-" She started stumbling over her words but just cut her off, "Save it"

"So this is what? a revenge? Fucking my brother!" William screamed. You looked at him over your shoulder and smirked, putting your head down on Harry's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your lower waist.

"You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes"

*****

I can't believe my hlaf asleep dumbass posted this half written😭🤦‍♀️

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