#yeah this kids was so tender and sweet and everything i would’ve wanted for a first kiss between these sweetie pies

[cozzzynook]

Omg love the Roddy angst! Can we have some Roddy tenderness to balance it out? His Lover(s) caring for him, cuddling and being sweet?

“What are you doing?”

Turning from the mixer, a bowl of glowing sweet energon in his servos, resting on the top of his large swollen tank, Rodimus raised his optic ridges in surprise and inquiry at Drifts sudden appearance and question.

“What are you doing back so soon Drift? Did you get to leave your shift early?”

Rodimus didn’t see a problem at all with his question but it seems Drift did and so did Ratchet who joined the swords mech in the doorway to their hab suite.

“Kid what are you doing up at this hour?”

Oh yeah. Thats right.

It was midnight and his newly conjunx weren’t off shift early but off shift on time.

He was the one who was up early.

But thats because he couldn’t recharge without them both by his side. Along with their sparklings who were craving something so fierce it woke him from his light power down when he actually managed to enter a form of recharge.

“They woke me up wanting something sweet,” he rested a servo beneath the round ball of his tanks that wouldn’t let him see his own pedes, rubbing the sensitive plating to feel a hyperactive kick that he can’t help loving but wishing would stop hurting.

It was Drift who snuck up on Rodimus and slid his servos along his tanks putting them beneath the heavy girth and slowly, ever so gently lifting the heavy weight making Rodimus’s shoulders drop all tension and ex-vent with a serious relief he drops his helm back onto Drifts shoulder close to his neck cables.

“See Roddy? You should be resting in the berth. You could’ve called us and asked for your craving. We would’ve made it for you.”

Ratchet came and took the bowl that was snug atop Rodimus’s tanks, tasting some of the energon and humming in approval. He began making the dish he knew their sparklings often made Rodimus crave. He planted a kiss to Rodimus’s cheek and then Drift’s forehelm. Giving Drift a nod when the swords mech helped slowly shift Rodimus back into their suite and into their nest.

The heavy sigh of relief from Rodimus told them he’d been standing for a while.

At this stage, the second phase of carrying, typically bots wouldn’t be this huge or tired but since himself and Drift managed to pump Rodimus full with two heavy sparklings, he was far bigger than normal.

He was mixing the energon where Rodimus left off putting the sweet treat in the freezer instead of the oven like most would do. This particular dish was normally served hot but their sparklings wanted the treat cold and so Rodimus ate the dish as a frozen dessert. It was still delicious but they monitored how much he consumed since it was far sweeter like this.

“Ratty come quick.”

The light laugh from Drift told him Rodimus had fallen into recharge and when he walked inside their berthroom to see Rodimus indeed had fallen asleep, he smiled.

“Fuels done,” Ratchet announced quietly, moving to lay on the other side of the berth.

They wanted Rodimus to sleep in the middle since his carrying began but he said he couldn’t rest comfortably there anymore and he wanted them to be able to cuddle each other and they couldn’t with Rodimus having to sleep on propped up pillows sitting up.

“Did you imagine we could have this?”

“This? A family? Being conjunx? Living peacefully? Being happy?”

“Yeah,” Drift whispered, touching his cheek as he laid on his side.

Rodimus was snoring lightly and they couldn’t stop a small laugh from freeing itself.

“I’d lost hope quite a few times honestly,” Ratchet was able to smile, “but meeting you two..being here beside you even before everything officially started. Gave me the hope I once feared.”

“Aw Ratty you really are a sap,” Drifts teasings were cut short by Ratchet elbowing him and Rodimus venting as he tried to shift.

“Watch it kid, or else I’ll really pull out the big guns.”

“Oh yeah? I used to be a gun slinger baby. I can take it.”

Ratchet smirked trying to hide how funny he thought Drifts words were as he closed his optics.

The two held each other, em field surrounding Rodimus who was so deep in recharge his own em field made them tired.

The feeling was welcome though because they were safe in their nest with their conjunx resting as he should be while the two talked quietly until they fell to recharge themselves.

Life was good.

[dragonridernoobie]

UnderTale Sans invites you to StarGaze

Request are still open.

You

Sans

BTW, you have a dead brother.....ya

Prologue

Almost 5 years ago, monsters were freed from the underground by a small 7 year old child named Frisk. Ever since then, monsters and humans have learned to live together once again. This is when (Y/N) (L/N) met Sans the Skeleton. For months, they grew close, and eventually, Sans wanted to tell his feelings to (Y/N). So he planned to invite you to stargaze with him on a clear night. Little did he know, you planned to tell you're feeling for him to.

Present

A little while ago, Sans texted you to come meet him at the lake near his new home on the surface. Or at least that’s what you deciphered from the array of puns and wordplay jokes he sent you. It wasn’t too far away from your own home, so it didn’t take long for you to get there on foot. And not much longer to find Sans laying down near the pier on a big soft blanket. His soft eyelights tore away from the stars and panned to you, his smile getting a little bigger.

“heya kiddo. wanna join me?”

"To join you on, what exactly?"

“stargazing, of course! What else would we do together, out here in the dark? heh.”

He shifted over to give you room on the blanket, a few shooting stars flying overhead in a timely manner. You sit with him and look up at the stars.

"So, you have been on the surface for a bit now. What do you think of everything. Since I never asked you before."

Sans’ eyelights darted back up to the sky as he gave the question some thought.

“it’s....peaceful, in a way. not like how it was underground, you know? but i still feel nervous about new people, but hey, it’s all worth it for this.”

He gestured his hand above them, his eye lights trailing off into a long silence. His expression suddenly seemed solemn, the only movement on his face being the bright light of his eyes.

"Hey...have you heard about how the stars are our dead love ones?"

Sans sat up a little straighter and looked over to you, now speaking in a softer tone.

“wait, really?? you’re pulling my leg kid.”

"Nah, legends say that if someone you love very much like a lover, mother, sibling, or even a friend passes on. Their soul goes to the heavens, and a new star appeares in the sky, so you can always still see them...that's where the sane "I will be watching over you" came from."

Sans took in the information silently, his smile turning a little more thoughtful now too.

“huh. that’s…that’s actually really sweet. i always wondered where that saying came from, but i never thought it would’ve been because of something like this. y’know…”

Sans glanced back up at the stars with a sort of fascinated expression.

"Sometimes I wonder if my brother is up there..."

Sans now looked back at you, his face filled with a sort of sad empathy.

“you think about that too? i always thought i was being silly. y’know…missing him so much and all since I didn't know him well, but… maybe there is a chance that he’s out there, just like they say…”

He looked back up to the night sky again.

"I don't know...I'm glad you still have you're brother..."

Sans smiled softly and scooched a little closer, his voice dropping a little to a softer tone.

“yeah, i’m not sure what i’d do without him, y’know?”

A long pause followed as the two of you basked in the silence, the soft music of nature and the stars serving as the perfect ambiance. You then lie back and look up at the stars.

"There's another thing about the stars. It says that if you see a shooting star, you have 3 seconds to wish for something."

Sans was now fully laying down as well, his eyes watching your every movement with a sort of tenderness and curiosity that had developed over time. He listened carefully to your words, then gave a little chuckle under his breath.

“wish for something? really? i always thought those shooting stars were just accidents… never thought we could make a wish and have it come true with them.”

"Well, no one knows if the wishes come true. It's kinda like throwing your wish to the heaven's to see if someone will answer."

Sans chuckled again, this time a little louder.

“oh, i have an idea. next time a shooting star comes by, why don’t you go ahead and make a wish, then let me know if it comes true? hehe, that sounds like it’d be fun.”

"I don't have anything to wish for, tho. I have everything I need, and the thing I want the most, most likely won't happen."

Sans sat up more, looking over at you with that same sort of curiosity. Now, he was paying even more attention to the way you talked, as if you were saying something of immense importance.

“really? you have everything, huh? hm… now i’m really curious! why don’t you tell me one thing you DO want? just one. c’mon, humor me. heh.”

"I could...buuuut. I don't want to scare ya off."

Sans raised an eyebrow, seeming a little surprised by the statement but still smiling warmly at you. In fact, there was a certain warmth in his eyes to match the soft lighting of his eyelights.

“aww, what’d you think it would be something bad? well, even if it is, i wanna know! heh, you can trust me.”

"ok, ok, before I tell you, legend states you need to close your eyes so you have a better chance for your wish to come true. So both of us need to close our eyes when we see the next shooting star, and then I'll tell you my wish."

Sans nods, completely interested in what your wish will be. When the next shooting star happens, you both close you're eyes and he waits for you to say your wish, but instead, he feels you kiss his cheekbone lightly. Sans was stunned, not expecting the kiss at all. But once he found his composure, his eyes shot wide as he turned to you.

“you… just… you…"

His words came out as a stammering mess, as if too many thoughts were jumbled up together at once and he had no idea where to start. He felt the blush rising in his cheeks, his eyelights going wild with a mix of confusion, nervousness, and and with uncontrollable grin.

"ya...thats what my wish is...I can understand if you aren't interested since we are both completely different species."

Your look had excitement, fear, curiosity, and love. Sans smiled softly at you and gave a small chuckle, shaking his head a little. His eyes were still a bit wide, but now they were locked onto yours as if he was drowning in their beauty.

"i hope you didn’t think that for a SECOND. after every day we’ve spent together, every moment we’ve shared, you think i’d worry about being the same species as you? it’s true that we may be different on the outside, but… i feel like you and i are a lot more alike on the inside."

You blush and chuckle.

"Ya... but I just thought that since no one has done a monster and human relationship, you wouldn't be interested in one."

"pff, why would i care about something like that? even now that we’re on the surface, no one’s going to care what we are as long as we don’t hurt anyone, right?…wait...what did you mean by ‘no one’s done a monster and human relationship before’? are you…Are you saying what i think you’re saying..?"

"ya...I have feelings for you. for a long time actually, and I would love to take you on a date, Sans the skeleton."

Sans looked absolutely flustered, his face filled with a mix of surprise, joy, and excitement. His eyelights shone brightly in a way you’d never seen in him before, his hands, you could see them slightest shake.

"you just… came out and said it like it was nothing…and here i was scared to ask you the same thing, but my awnser is yes. I would love to go on a date with you (Y/N) (L/N)."

He leans over and holds the side of you're face. He leans in, you also lean in and close the distance. Kissing underneath the shooting stars.

Maybe wishes do come true after all.......

[biaaylesworth]

Never the Same

Amid a New Girl rewatching, I obviously fell in love with Cece and Schmidt again. The lack of fanfics made me write this humble start of something 🫶🏻

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Surrendering… I felt it every time he touched me. His hands, his lips, his warmth surrounding me, making love to me with devoted passion, bringing in me a weird synergy of safety and adoration that makes me feel disgusted and addicted at the same time. I unapologetically come back seeking more, and he delivers better every time. I literally bit my shoulders and cummed so hard I lost my senses just to come back with the timbre of his cocky voice, babbling over what? boobies?

Disgusting, yeah, this is it. I’m out! That would be the last time.

Who was I kidding? I couldn’t let go. I was feeling him all over me. My pussy was throbbing, and I was literally soaked wet, just by remembering our rendezvous, which at that point was nothing more than two perfectly long nights. God! That men have stamina. Who would’ve thought that that idiotic serial douche beg, out of all men in my life - I mean I had so many sexual encounters - would be the best laid I ever had in my whole life? Nothing makes sense!

All I wanted was a fling, rebound sex, and make Caio pay for being a beautiful-cheating- mushroomy mess.

Fine, I confess since thanksgiving I developed a massive crush on Schmidt, that mix of sweetness and rage underneath that over-dramatic way and OCD. No man had ever yelled at me like that. My heart was brought to life right at that moment. 

But if I’m being completely honest, my view of him began to change when we both were completely bare of our social masks, exhausted from that freaking long weekend, of me being a complete jerk, we confessed to each other we hate sleeping alone. The sweetness and tenderness got me by surprise. It made me feel safe enough to open up and let that soft side of me out. So deeply did I burred that side of myself that I could no longer reach out to it.

 Schmidt did it, though.

Albeit, I was only used to dating unidimensional men. Schmidt was anything but. I only realised how important this was after him. He was sweet, enraged, the cleanest and the dirtiest, so overdramatic and funny, so intelligent, and he has a naivety-ish way to love. He would do anything for the people he cared about. So many layers with him. The way he looked at me as if I was the best thing that ever happened to him. No prize or a trophy though, pride. As though I had value, he was interested in getting to know me, finding out where my heart lay, making me laugh, and making me happy.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This whole situation wasn’t meant to become this consuming sick passion. I thought I would be disappointed, laugh at his unseasonable forwardness and never have to look at him again.

But the more we got involved, the more my body got devoted exclusively to his most deviant fantasies. He pushed all my buttons, figuratively and literally. He possessed me completely. Every encounter was different and greater. We started spending hours talking about everything and nothing. Our cool facade was gone when were together under his sheets, shielding us from the loneliness we felt for so many years. It was our sanctuary, our safe harbour.

[ddarker-dreams]

Contractual Obligations II. Yan Childe x Reader

Warnings: Unwanted physical contact, general yandere themes. Word count: 2.2k. →Part I. 

The sound of heavy, wooden doors shutting behind you feels like a premonition of what is to come. 

Fiddling with your skirt, your eyes dart around, taking in Liyue’s signature rich architecture. Fatui building or not, they still must abide by Liyue’s aesthetic. You thought being surrounded by your home’s design would bring solace. Warm shades of mahogany with gold motifs are illuminated by paper lanterns, giving a glow that would be otherwise pleasant, if not for the circumstances. 

You had anticipated a long wait. Ekaterina, upon hearing your name, informed that you would be seen without delay. The others in the lobby of Northland Bank grumbled at this, much to your embarrassment. It’s no secret that getting appointments here is a time-consuming endeavor. Sailors, business owners, and Qixing’s personal assistants alike had to wait. 

For whatever reason, you were allowed to skip ahead of the queue. The glaring special treatment is bound to spread rumors. Now, here you stand, unable to quell your nerves. This is no different than strolling into a ravenous lion’s den. The vulnerability you feel now makes you wish you were facing a carnivorous beast, at least then you might have hope to defend yourself. 

Even with the unexpected privilege of not waiting in the lobby, you’ve been standing here in this private room for a while now. Thirty minutes is your guess, impatience creeping up on you. Your shoulders slump, a sigh leaving your lips. There’s lots of work to be done when you’re done here, time a precious resource. Wasting it to get answers from the blight on your life is infuriating. 

Figures, the one time you need to speak with Childe, he’s nowhere to be seen. Every other time he’d show up at the least opportune moments. He has a habit of appearing uninvited and ruining what would’ve been a pleasant day. Lost in thought, you consider all that must be done when you return to your parent’s shop, too occupied with your thoughts to notice a looming figure. Two hands go out to cover your eyes, the world suddenly going dark. Heart pounding against your chest, the touch is too unexpected, heat rising in your body as protection.

“Guess who?” Childe hums into your ear with a singsong tone. His scent reminds you of the ocean, fresh and light. 

You frown, noticing how close he is to you, his chest pressed against your back. Does Childe not know what personal space is? “The source of my problems.” 

He lets out a scandalized gasp and slinks in front of you. Childe boasts a lighthearted demeanor, mirth dancing in his eyes, and a tight-lipped smile on his face. Inauthentic as ever, you note. You’ve seen what lays dormant behind the thin veil of boyish charm. The infinite darkness that you never wish to see again. He’s still closer to your person than you’d prefer, but pointing it out won’t do any good, so you decide to overlook it. Picking your battles wisely is vital when speaking with Childe.

“Is that the greeting I get, after rushing all the way here?” Childe sighs. Before you could respond, you notice a new scent in the air, unmistakably leather. It takes you a moment to identify the source. A thin, wispy trail of smoke rises from Childe’s leather gloves that had been touching you just prior. Does that not hurt? Childe catches you staring and laughs. 

“So you didn’t notice,” Childe sounds amused, lifting his hands to inspect them. Raising his hands to his mouth, he bites the tip of his gloves and pulls them off. “Looks like I caught you.” 

He nods to your necklace which is tucked beneath your blouse, scarlet light shining through the fabric. Instinctually, you cover it with your hand, the jewel warm to the touch. Childe’s abrupt physical touch had activated your Vision. It’s only when you take a few deep breaths that the telling glow fades away, but the damage is already done. Did he plan this on purpose? Whatever the case may be, Childe is the last person you want having this information.

Sensing your apprehension, he speaks up. “Relax, I already assumed as much, but my interest is undeniably piqued. Why hide your Vision? This isn’t Inazuma, I was under the impression Visions were revered in Liyue.” 

You don’t owe Childe an explanation, but your intuition tells you he’s not going to let this go anytime soon. This isn’t what you came here for, you remind yourself. Don’t let him distract you.

“It’s a long story,” comes your dismissive answer, glancing around to see if anyone else had seen, even though it’s only you two in here. “Can I talk about what I came here for, please?” 

Childe closes his eyes, humming while considering your proposition. Instead of walking behind the desk in the room, he sits on a bench against the wall, motioning for you to come over. At your blatant hesitation, he decides to pester you, which doesn’t come as a shock. 

“What’s up with that look? There’s plenty of room,” Childe pats the spot next to him for extra emphasis. A dangerous twinkle shines in his eyes with a mischievous smile to match it. “Though, I wouldn’t complain should you come to sit on my lap instead.” 

Your cheeks flush brightly, a weak glare being sent his way which he laughs at. “I would never…” 

“Sure, sure. Come over already, it’s the least you could do, considering you just scorched a pair of my favorite gloves.” Childe’s carefree tone doesn’t match his scolding words, stretching out his arm on the back of where you were supposed to sit. Gingerly stepping over the smoking gloves on the floor, you wonder if it’s somehow a fire hazard, but assume Childe’s Hydro Vision could put it out if need be. You stop just short of sitting down, gnawing on your bottom lip at this new internal dilemma. Glaring daggers at his outstretched arm doesn’t seem to faze him. 

“The offer still stands.” He teases, leading you to huff and take your seat by him. You try to ignore the close physical proximity, but it’s rather difficult, as your thighs are touching. Is this a common theme for Snezhnayans? Why is Childe so needlessly touchy? Maybe you don’t want to know. Childe drums his fingers, staring at you with dangerous intent. 

You’ve wasted enough time here. Hoping to move on to the pressing issue, your lips part without further delay. “So, as I was--”

Childe places a finger to your lips, in an act that leaves you speechless. What is his problem? Furrowing your eyebrows together, you have half a mind to scorch the finger in front of you, but dismiss the thought when remembering his strength. Damn him for getting you riled up with such ease. 

“Uh uh uh,” Childe chastises with a shake of his head. “Not yet. Business can come later. First, you’re going to tell me about that.” 

You don’t need to look down to see he’s pointing at your hidden necklace. “It’s... personal. I have no reason to tell you.” 

“Oh, sweet [First]. I wasn’t asking. You did just burn my gloves, didn’t you? Instead of charging you Mora, which -- no offense -- you don’t have enough of to replace it, I want an explanation. I think that’s a fair deal.” 

So he is going to hold that mishap over you. Messing around with a debt collector and money seems counterintuitive, giving a quick explanation the plausible option. Whatever it takes to get him to drop the sensitive topic. Childe must have a semblance of tact to have made it this far in life after all. 

“Fine, fine. It’s not really that remarkable a reason. I have a younger sister, Chunghua. We used to be inseparable as kids. More than anything, I just wanted her to be happy. You’d do anything to accomplish that, y’know? It was… all my fault, really. She wanted a Vision like mine more than anything -- hair accessories, Mora, pretty outfits -- she never cared for that. 

I had no idea why I was given a Vision and not her. She was the one who prayed to every Archon at night for it, the one who burnt incense and gave offerings, not me. I could see her gradually losing hope every day that she woke up without one, like a piece of her was breaking off. At meals, she’d just… stare, silently, at the Vision around my neck. I don’t blame her for starting to hate me. I didn’t notice until it was too late.”

Taking a deep breath, your eyes fall to your lap. “I only wanted to cheer her up. To see her smile like she used to. When I first got my Vision, Chunghua would ask me to do these little tricks. Forming animals or whatever, stuff kids like. Anyways… I tried doing it again one morning. Needless to say, it didn’t go well, she practically screeched at me. I had no idea that was how she felt. But, yeah. That’s why I hide my Vision. See, not that interesting, right?” 

Childe’s expression feels impossible to read. You’re not sure why you even shared so much, especially with him, but his lack of interruption made you keep going. Maybe you weren’t expecting him to sit perfectly still and listen to every word. Whatever the case, you clear your throat, desperate to clear the gloomy atmosphere. 

“She would’ve reacted the same eventually,” Childe says after a moment of deliberation. You tilt your head, the serious answer was unexpected. “That’s what I think, though only older siblings could understand.”

There’s a brief tenderness in his words that leaves you speechless. If he’s acting, you have to commend his abilities, because right now it almost feels like he’s being genuine. Playing with a strand of your hair, you look past him and clear your throat.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right.” 

Childe’s somber appearance twists into a more impish visage. “Why don’t I give Chunghua a talking to? It’s a shame seeing your cute face so sullen.” 

Mortified, you shake your head. “There’s no need for that.” 

“Hmm… a shame. I could really take care of everything if you just let me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” you shrug with a frown. “What you could help me with is this ridiculous situation at the shop! Why are there Fatui guards outside the front doors? It’s scaring away customers.” 

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” 

Unbelievable. Childe continues to test your patience at every turn. After your previous conversation outside Liyue, which you’re still hoping was a bad joke, you’d noticed an increased presence of Fatui around the shopping district. That was bad enough for business. Now that they’re stationed right outside your parent’s shop, it’s far worse. Rumors have begun to circulate that you’re somehow involved with the Fatui. This has Childe’s doing written all over it.

“Why else would I be here?” 

He smiles and you immediately regret the rhetorical question. “Because you missed me, of course.” 

“I missed when there weren’t Fatui around the shop. Please, I don’t know what you did, but it’s going to be harder to get money for...” you gulp as if saying it cements the reality of your situation, but power through. “Paying off the loan with this drop in revenue.”

“Tempting as that is, I’m already happy with the results. I got you to come to me and learned more about you. From my position, this is a sizeable gain.” 

Everything from your head to your toes feels hot as if molten lava is stirring inside. He’s not taking you seriously, like the time at the stream and all the times before that. Memories flash in your mind. Your father hunched over letters containing bills, frowning, hair going greyer by the day. Your mother, sneaking out when she thinks you and your sister are asleep to pawn off her old jewelry. Even Chunghua, who offered to take time away from her education to help at the shop. It hits you like a pile of bricks, heart twisting painfully and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“What do I have to do,” Your voice is so low that Childe has to careen his head to hear it. He blinks, incredulous, waiting for further clarification. Each breath you take feels like a losing battle, your composure threatening to shatter. “For you to stop… whatever this is. I’ll do anything. Give anything. Please, just leave my family out of it.” 

Childe crosses his legs and leans in closer to you, arm secured tight around your shoulder.

“Didn’t I tell you already?” 

His breath is warm against you, lips ghosting over the skin of your neck. He presses his lips softly against your pulse. Smiling, he notices how it quickens underneath his touch, all too pleased with your physical reactions. 

“That what I want to take is you.” 

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

[ohmyasmodeus]

𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 ✧

as requested, a follow up to your first kisses with the demon brothers ! thank you so much, i’m glad to hear you enjoyed them sweetheart. i hope you enjoy these too ♡ baby luke gets a boop on the nose and a kiss on the cheek and nothing more !

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙤

✧   Your first kiss with Diavolo is a thousand things— the rush of excitement, the tenderness of understanding, the feeling of the wind running through your hair and all-consuming passion. Your first kiss with Diavolo makes you feel like you belong.

✧   Receiving attention from the ruler of hell himself felt completely unreal. Have you been that exceptional of a student? It constantly begs the question of what you had done to warrant such attention, not to mention the way Diavolo looks at you, striking eyes so full of want. Your meetings with him are often that of pure chance, or formal meetings to discuss your academic performance, but they are quick to become much less formal.

✧   The startling realisation that Diavolo cares for you more than he should for a mere student comes in the form of him consoling you; his amber eyes gaze at you so honestly, and he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I know he can be frustrating, but Lucifer means well, ______. I know it’s been hard to adjust to life here, but you’ve been doing so good!” Diavolo laughs, boisterous as ever. It manages to make the corners of your lips tilt upwards in slight amusement. The pressure on your chests eases slightly with his presence and the arm he wraps around your shoulder. “Really! You manage to wrangle those seven brothers better than anyone has before! I’ll talk to him, get him to ease up on you a bit. How does that sound?”

“Thanks,” you give him a smile, resting your head on his shoulder. The Devildom sprawls out in front of you as your gaze wanders past the balcony railing, and you find yourself breathing in the fresh air, thinking about how the moment feels so perfect. Diavolo by your side, his kingdom below you… “But being around you makes me feel better already. I just wish you weren’t so busy.”

Diavolo grins like a kid in a candy store. “Oh? You want to spend even more time with me?”

“Duh.”

“Wow, I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before!” Diavolo gives you an affectionate squeeze with his arm. Breathlessly, you laugh, sure that if he had a tail it would be wagging hard. The way he looks at you is so full of life, so excited. You’re a breath of fresh air in the burdensome life of a prince. “I should be the one thanking you for letting me in, I love spending time with you too. Everyone walks on eggshells around me, but you… You’re special. Thank you.”

Maybe it’s the Devildom air getting to you, or maybe it’s the way Diavolo’s closeness is almost intoxicating, but the way he looks at you makes your heart race like nothing before. Instead if shying away, you find a little bit of boldness you never thought you had— the boldness to tiptoe and press your lips against his. Immediately, you feel his large hands on your waist, hoisting you up and making you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist to avoid a fall. He laughs when you pull away, his cheeks faintly flushed.

“You really are a special human! My favourite human!” Diavolo holds you close in delight and brings you into kiss after kiss. The moonlight illuminates the both of you as he sways you around on the balcony, and you know that this is exactly where you have always been meant to be.

♡ 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣

✧   Your first kiss with Solomon feels like a long fought for victory.

✧   What a tease. Solomon likes teasing you way too much, especially when he suspects that you might have feelings for him. He isn’t mean per se— he just has fun giving you mixed signals and letting you try to decipher the mystery that he is. He really is fond of you though, and can’t help but be more genuine when you two are alone together.

✧   It’s all too easy to get distracted when you were alone with him too, not just by the smell of his cologne or the way his knowing gaze summoned butterflies in your tummy, but by how he was the best person to talk shit with.

“—and they act like they know everything about you! They’re all so smug too, invading my privacy just because they’re bored!” You huff as you lean your cheek into the palm of your hand, watching Solomon flip through your textbooks. He smiles idly as he listens to you chatter away. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having a pact with almost a hundred of them.”

Solomon just laughs as he closes a textbook and bops you on the head with it. “Maybe you’d have an idea if you did your school work like you told me you wanted my help with.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything right now.” The warmth of the sorcerer envelopes you as you scoot closer to him and lean your head on his shoulder. You hear him chuckle as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. All you want to do in this moment is enjoy being with him, instead of wasting your time and attention on schoolwork you honestly couldn’t care less about.

“Not even me?”

When you lift your head to make your snarky retort, you’re faced with Solomon smirking as if he’d  just issued you a challenge, lips too close to yours to be unintentional. And you’re never one to turn down a good challenge. Maybe it’s predictable of you, but you can’t care less as you chase his lips and firmly press yours against his.

Solomon’s smirk is mirrored on your lips when you pull away, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Asmo is a terrible influence on you. That was so fucking cheesy.”

♡ 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣

✧   First kisses, first loves, you have many firsts with Simeon. Your first kiss with him is nothing short of divine.

✧   The both of you connect on so many levels, more than you would’ve ever expected from someone from the Celestial Realm. It’s almost as if Simeon just knows you and has for centuries, and the spark between you is immeasurable in its brightness and intensity. You feel it like it’s the first time every time Simeon touches your arm gently, or guides your hand to draw a rune correctly, or tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

✧   “What are you going to do when you get home?” Simeon asks, taking off his gloves. You lie on his bed lazily and glance up from your D.D.D. to look at him, which he smiles at. (It had taken a surprisingly long time to be invited into his dorm room, and you guess that it likely has to do with the implications of spending time alone, completely unsupervised, nobody but each other… Or maybe that was just you talking.)

“Ew, are you already thinking about getting rid of me?” You laugh, letting your legs sway in the air. “Maybe I’ll pray to God and ask him to make you my guardian angel. Then you’ll never be able to get away from me!”

Simeon laughs, chime-like in the comfortable silence of his room. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ______. I was simply asking.” He shrugs off his cloak and hangs it up properly, before rolling onto the bed beside you and leaning his chin on your shoulder. “It’s good to know that I’ll be missed.”

You don’t like thinking about it. The dread fills you at the simple mention of leaving, of not having Simeon close. Will you even get the chance to tell him how you feel about him?

“Yeah… I guess I just…” An ache clutches at your heart, making your hands tremble slightly. “I don’t want to be without you. I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Oh, my sweet little lamb, you’ll always have me... My heart belongs to you.” Simeon sighs gently. You feel his soft breath ghost across your skin, before he uses his gentle fingers to lift your chin to face him. His gentle smile calms your heart instantly, and you lean in without a second thought. Simeon does too, closing his eyes as he feels your soft lips against his. It feels like an eternity with him— an endless moment that you could stay in forever. “I’m never letting you go.”

♡ 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙨

✧   Your first kiss with Barbatos feels like finally reaching home after a long journey.

✧   Every aspect of your relationship with Barbatos seems to come as a surprise. It seems simply impossible to guess the next moves he would make, and though you didn’t expect yourself to gain an interest like this in any of the demons, Barbatos leaves you wondering about him deep into the night. It’s frustrating at times.

✧   One of the only times you get to spend time with Barbatos is late at night, once his duties for the day are finished. You watch him finish organising stacks of paperwork on Diavolo’s desk and cross your arms.

“You know you aren’t meant to be here.” Barbatos doesn’t look up to acknowledge you, but you hear the smile in his voice.

“You’ll get me out of trouble anyway,” you say confidently. “Are you still busy?”

“Maybe you should’ve texted me first, then maybe you would know.”

His sharp sense of humour has always made you laugh, especially when used on the more dense people around you, but this time it makes you sigh. All you wanted to do was spend some time with him after being apart for a while, but the way he responded makes you feel a little foolish for it. “Alright. Have fun doing whatever.”

That’s what you hate about him. You hate how opaque he always is, how you can never know if he wants to spend time with you or if he’s ditching you on purpose, and how you can never tell if he feels the way that you do. Maybe it’s best to just go back and lick your wounds.

You turn away, but before you can begin walking, you feel gentle hands on your hips and an almost teasing chuckle. Barbatos kisses your head and quietly says, “You’re cute when you get mad. It’s clear that I haven’t been spending enough time with you, and I’m sorry, ______. Let me make it up to you?”

“Bring me to Hell’s Kitchen or I’ll still be mad.”

“Anything for you.” Barbatos’ voice is a soft mutter as he uses his hands to gently turn you to face him. The kiss he gives you comes as both a surprise and something expected, and it makes you softly wrap your arms around the back of his neck, smiling as you let your eyes close. Finally being able to kiss him feels like breathing a sigh of relief. This is home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[snowstark]

hi! can i get 5 and 6 for sambucky? thank you!

5. “You’re more than just a one night stand.” 6. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

Unsaid Whispers of Our Hearts.

Link to AO3

The first time it happened, they'd said, "It's okay, we were just blowing off steam, just getting through some stuff together, helping each other, because that's what good friends do. It won’t happen again. We're not partners, we're just good friends, and that's why we spent the entire night in bed together making love."

And then they'd sworn that it wouldn't happen again.

But it did.

Again.

And again.

And it continued until Sam invited Bucky to his family cookout. Bucky got the idea that that was a pretty big deal, and his suspicion was confirmed when Sam had told him, hesitantly, "We all bring a date, you know, to the cookout, just to keep things fun."

So, he'd politely denied it at first, saying, "Oh, no, I don't know if I can—" but then Sam had given him that look, the one he could never resist, and said gently, "Buck, please."

Bucky had held his gaze for a few moments, then given a nod, because, well, why not? They weren't—they weren't dating, that was for sure, but they were good friends, and if Sam needed him to do it, he would. Besides, it wasn't a big deal. It was just a barbecue. With all of the important people in Sam's lives. No pressure at all. “Yeah, okay," he'd said. "Yeah, 'cause—'cause we're friends, I'll do it."

Sam had given him a beaming smile, one that warmed his entire heart, and clapped him on the shoulder, because hugging reminded them of those moments in their lives, too intimate, and said, "I knew I could count on you."

So now, Bucky was standing in front of Sam, staring at him, while Sam stared back, because they were both lost as fuck, and Bucky had a feeling that Sam didn't know any better than him as to why exactly they were doing this.

Bucky was pretty sure Sam wouldn't have had an issue finding a nice girl or guy off of a dating app. But then again, maybe that wasn't his thing. It certainly wasn't his thing. Too many men holding fish, he recalled. It had grossed him out. Seriously.

Besides, Sam had to have known that Bucky would’ve done this for him anytime. The realization made him blink, because shit, that was right, he would do this for Sam, no matter when or why or how. And that… that was something he didn’t want to dwell on, but they were good friends, maybe even partners by now, so it worked, it made sense. It wasn’t that deep.

Bucky had brought a cake to the cookout. He’d tried to bake one himself, but it hadn’t really worked out. He’d had to rip the oven out of the wall to solve the issue. Then he’d gone and bought himself a nice vanilla cake, because that was a classic. Everyone loved vanilla.

He laughed when Sam’s nephews greeted him immediately, shouting, “Mr. Bucky! Take this!” and pretending to sock him in the jaw while Sarah watched on fondly.

He played along, then greeted Sarah with a wave before bumping right into his—his date for the night.

Sam.

“You made it.” Sam beamed.

Bucky took off his sunglasses and gave him a look. “‘course I did. I’m your date, dumbass. I wasn’t gonna stand you up.” And he shoved the cake into Sam’s arms. “Cake,” he said brusquely, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

Sam’s lips twitched into a smile. “A real sweetheart for bringing me a cake, Barnes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Now gimme a kiss; isn’t that how you’re supposed to treat your date?”

Sam laughed, turning his head to the side like he was looking for people watching, rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly, and Bucky was secretly delighted at the sight of Sam all awkward, because that was usually him. It was nice to see the roles reverted for once. He mockingly puckered his lips, and Sam leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

He pouted, because he was not done tormenting Sam yet. It wasn’t every day he could do this—kiss Sam. No, tease him. That—that was what he’d meant. “C’mon, really? That’s all you’re gonna give me? I’m feelin’ a little neglected, Samuel.”

Sam pulled a face. “Don’t call me that.”

Bucky grinned. “Then go ahead and shut me up.”

He was instantly reminded of the first time they’d—they’d pressed each other into the mattress, gentle and sweet, and he knew by the look in Sam’s eyes he remembered too. “Don’t make me shut you up, Barnes,” Sam had threatened. “Try me,” Bucky had responded.

Well, Sam had definitely tried. And succeeded.

On multiple counts.

And this would be yet another moment added onto the rest.

Sam leaned in, gave him another kiss, and this one was longer, deeper, softer, and it made heat furl in Bucky’s gut. He sank into it, shoulders sagging, and let it happen. Eventually, he had to pull away, his cheeks glowing with heat, and he and Sam stared at each other for a few long moments—“It won’t happen again”—until Bucky broke it by saying, “Uh, food’s ready, isn’t it?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it is. C’mon.”

Dinner went by easy enough. Bucky Barnes was a real charmer, thank you very much. The kids loved him, used him as a playground, basically, and he made everyone laugh, especially Sam, and that was something that made him smile to himself, not just proud, but happy.

It wasn’t until they’d finished the cake Bucky had brought that Sam excused himself, heading off, and Bucky watched him leave. A few minutes later, he followed.

Sam was standing by the shore, away from the cookout, and watching the waves crash against each other, sending droplets of water fluttering through the air before disappearing, landing where they were meant to, glinting in the setting sunlight.

“Thinking?”

Bucky’s voice made Sam turn around, looking surprised, and Bucky tucked his hands into his pockets before stepping closer until he was right next to Sam. Sam could easily loop his arm through Bucky’s.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

Bucky glanced at him. “‘bout anything in particular?”

“About you.” Sam grinned, clearly teasing. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off of my date tonight, you know.”

Bucky snorted. “Oh, yeah, real charming. Let me know if you want some tips on how to woo someone; I gotcha.”

“Well, I don’t need tips if I’ve already wooed someone myself.”

Bucky made a mockingly offended noise. “Wooed someone? When you have a date right next to you, waiting for you to take him to bed?”

Sam laughed, sounding surprised, then said, “You’re the one I’ve wooed, actually, but yeah, okay, I’m a jerk, I get it.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Bucky corrected absentmindedly, turning his gaze back to the sun.

“And you have a staring problem.”

“Don’t discriminate against us starers. It’s not our fault we want to remember someone like a fuckin’ photograph in our minds.”

“Someone?” Sam turned to face him.

Bucky kept his eyes on the horizon. He didn’t respond.

“Someone?” Sam pressed.

“Jerk,” Bucky sighed.

“No, seriously, Buck—”

Bucky turned, suddenly feeling tense, his heart rate picking up speed, thumping in his chest like it was about to jump out of his chest and run off before he could stop it. The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop it. “You want that ego fed, Wilson? You want me to say I’m tryin’ to remember you that way?”

Sam stared, an odd expression flitting across his face, and then said slowly, “No, Buck. I think you already have.”

Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat, and his shoulders rose up an inch more. This wasn’t—

Sam’s eyes flitted down to his lips, and Bucky’s heart jumped again, remembering the first time Sam had looked at him that way, the second time, the third time, and he knew by now that he looked at him like that when he was going to… when he wanted to—

Sam leaned in close, eyelashes fluttering, and Bucky met him halfway, because this was—yes. This was good.

Even though it wasn’t their first kiss that day, it still felt just as strong, just as good, just as perfect. Sam kissed him, then cupped the back of Bucky’s head in a soft, intimate move, and Bucky made a soft noise in his throat. He was still for a split second, his mind going blank with white noise in his panic, before it felt like someone had slapped him back into reality, and he pushed into it, letting his lips part open so that Sam could taste him, could do whatever he wanted.

Despite how tender the kiss and the moment was, Bucky felt like he was burning, overwhelmed by the feeling, by everything, but in a good way, something he’d needed for a while now—

“Buck—Buck, wait—” Sam pulled back, panting, and Bucky’s heart lurched for a split second, wondering if Sam was regretting all of this, but then— “You… you’re more than just a one night stand. I swear. It was supposed to be something simple, something to—to blow off steam, like we said, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and—”

“Oh my god.” Bucky stared at him. He was kissing an idiot. He was literally standing here, a few metres away from the cookout, kissing an idiot. Sam Wilson was an idiot. And the best part of all this was, he was an idiot, too. So really, it was just two idiots making out. The thought made a giggle bubble up in his throat and he swallowed it back in favour of saying hoarsely, “Would you just shut up and kiss me already? Jesus, Sam, I’ve been—this ain’t—”

Sam huffed a laugh, then pulled him close, kissing him again, and Bucky made a soft noise in his throat, shoulders going lax as he leaned into the kiss, trying to taste every inch of Sam he could, letting his entire world narrow down to Sam and only Sam. He was gasping for breath when Sam finally pulled back, and he missed the feeling of him already. “Yeah,” Sam breathed, eyes flicking down to Bucky’s lips like he was tempted to just stand there and keep kissing him, making the entire goddamn world stop for them because the world wasn’t going to stop if they didn’t force it to. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Bucky swallowed, mouth going dry, and his eyes flitted down to the tent in Sam’s pants, and he couldn’t help but press the palm of his hand to his own cock, growing harder and harder with each passing moment. “I can—I could—” He broke off when Sam wrapped a hand around his wrist and pulled it back, making him whine in protest, then panted, “Please.”

It was the first time he’d begged since…

He braced himself for the ice-cold feeling of shock that washed over him when he remembered, when the memories flashed by in his mind, unrelenting and loud like gunfire, but it… it didn’t come. He only focused on the hand around his wrist, Sam’s warm touch, the feeling of skin against skin, and he felt something swell up deep inside of him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there, and overwhelmingly strong, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

And he looked up at Sam, meeting his eyes, his golden gaze, as warm as the sun, and knew in that moment that from then on, he’d feel Sam’s touch everywhere, always there, surrounding him with warmth, and he felt a lump grow in his throat.

He gestured to Sam’s—Sam’s problem, one that he could offer the solution to—and croaked, “Lemme help you with that. ‘cause—you know, we’re good friends, we’re—we’re friends—”

Sam blinked, then cracked a grin as Bucky trailed off. “You think I’m just gonna let you go home when we’re both like this? Of course not; that’d make me a shitty friend. C’mon, cyborg-brain.” And he pulled Bucky along by the wrist, then paused, and Bucky paused, too, because they had nowhere to go.

In the heat of everything, they’d forgotten that even though they were each other’s worlds, constantly revolving around each other, the universe didn’t care enough to pause for them, to show some mercy and let them have this moment.

“We don’t—Buck, we don’t have anywhere to—” Sam broke off uncertainly, and his grip on Bucky’s wrist tightened the slightest bit, like he was scared that he’d suddenly lose Bucky just because they didn’t have a place to fuck.

Bucky was quiet for a few moments, thinking, and then he hesitantly offered, “The boat…”

Sam burst into laughter, and Bucky thought that he’d quite possibly said the stupidest thing ever, until Sam nodded, eyes still wide with laughter, and spluttered, “Yeah, yeah, that works, let’s go, c’mon.”

And Bucky let himself be dragged along by Sam.

They entered the boat, rocking it precariously when they struggled to rip each other’s clothes off, damn near wrestling with each other in an effort to quick, hurry up, clothes off, and Bucky let Sam press him against the wall, dragging his tongue over Bucky’s neck, then up his jaw and to his lips, kissing wetly and sloppily.

“Oh, god,” Bucky gasped. “Sam, oh, god—”

“I got you,” Sam breathed. “I got you.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, dizzy from the words and the meaning they carried, and gave himself to Sam, every inch of him, because he wanted to. “Yeah, you do.”

send me a smut prompt!

[anxresi]

I could line my wall with all the posts Thomas has made about Chloe tonight. (around 50, by my count)

If you wanna read them, don’t bother.

I certainly won’t be sharing any of them

What would be the point?

Because basically, they amount to one thing...

Chloe is bad, and we’re bad people for liking her.

That’s it.

And for anyone thinking that he kids around a lot with his comments...

I’m pretty sure this is something he feels VERY strongly about.

Or he wouldn’t expand so much energy in constantly talking her down.

So no, I don’t think we’re going to get a Chloe redemption.

No, I don’t think she’ll be Queen Bee again. 

No, I can’t see any real change in her behavior.

She’ll just remain the same ol’ hatable Chloe, the ‘evil’ girl that young kids apparently ‘get’ that adults don’t understand...

Yep, apparently we’re ‘dumb’ for wanting her to improve and develop!

To provide a good example for bullies out there that they can be more than just abusers all their lives!

Children couldn’t possibly grasp the delicate subtleties of self-improvement as you grow up!

It’s all so clear now!

Stupid us!

Also, her merchandise doesn’t sell very well.

Another good case for her staying as a villain, I guess.

And she’s compared to a monster and a domestic abuser.

This damaged teenage girl.

Yeah, sounds about right.

And all those tender moments where she showed empathy and love were just ‘fake outs’ all along.

Makes total sense!

And anyone who wanted more from her is just ‘delusional’ and is ‘writing the show in their head’.

Exactly!

Except...

That’s not the way it seemed on screen at all.

When she hugged Miss Bustier

Or had a heart-to-heart with Ladybug

When she risked her life as Queen Bee

Showed genuine concern for Adrien

When she finally appreciated Jean-something

And shared moments of friendship with Sabrina

These did NOT come across as part of an elaborate plot twist

From a show which isn’t exactly known for its complex writing.

They seemed to form part of a ladder...

Which would inevitably climb to a true character shift.

Where this flawed teenage girl could take a long, hard look at her life.

And realize she didn’t HAVE to be like her awful mother.

Or as power-hungry as her father.

She could learn lessons from her favorite superhero Ladybug...

Become a better person...

And an even greater superhero.

She could still keep her sassy attitude.

Just be a bit kinder and selfless, that’s all.

But, nope.

EVERY bit of niceness we witnessed on screen...

None of it was real.

It was all influenced by ‘class’.

Even her childhood friendship with Adrien was nothing.

If he was as poor as the rest of his classmates, she would’ve bullied him too.

Straight from Thomas’s own mouth.

One of the best relationships in the show, gone just. Like. THAT.

He also said to ‘redeem’ her at this stage would be too ‘unconvincing’?

ORLY?

I hate to return to critical mode...

But the show ain’t exactly known for its consistent writing.

One minute Marinette is confident around Adrien...

Next she’s a nervous jumble of words.

It sets up two new ships for Mari and Adrien with great fanfare...

Only to ditch them both two eps later.

(Also, what the **** did they plan to do with Lila?!)

In other words, this isn’t a show that plays the long game

Whether this is to satisfy the networks’ demand to air the eps out of order idk.

The point is that trying to tell us that Chloe’s ‘arc’ was some grand scheme...

Where she’d have a few sympathetic moments only to emerge worst than ever afterwards....

I simply don’t believe it.

Either this is terrible, amateurish writing of the worst kind...

Or Thomas flexed his influence behind the scenes...

And put an abrupt end to Chloe’s development before it really got started.

It doesn’t really matter which reason I guess.

What DOES matter is this petty and spiteful man sees fit to bash her in around 70% of his online interactions right now.

He could just ignore the posts but nope, he goes right in there, full throttle. 

You can just tell how smart he is with his intimate psychological breakdowns of why Chloe is the way she is...

When we all know the actual reason... he just couldn’t be bothered.

Far better to create a whole new character, give her none of the depths that could make a developed Chloe such a pain to write...

And then 'reward’ her with the position of Queen Bee, for being super-sweet and as shallow as a puddle.

And oops, make her Chloe’s half-sister or whatever to further rub salt in Chloe stans’ wounds. 

Is the show even gonna tackle the angst that would arise from Mayor Andre discovering his beloved wife had an affair?

Or Chloe discovering her much-loved mother is in fact a cheat?

What about coping with the SHOCK revelation that she... GASP... has a long-lost sister?

Forget it. All that rich potential for human emotions sounds B O R I N G.

Don’t forget that if there’s a major event in this show that doesn’t include the words ‘Love Square’, the makers just don’t care.

Let’s cut straight to a giant golden Zoe (who now looks like a giant golden Chloe) trying to smoosh her now much smaller sister...

While Chloe pushes Marinette and her parents towards the beast to save herself. 

Because of course she does.

Never misses a trick to make Chloe look bad, does Thomas.

It’s a skill you can tell he’s very proud of.

Anyway, back to Zoe...

Despite my harsh words above, I harbor no ill-will towards you.

Your design is decent and you seem like a stand-up gal.

But I hate to say this...

You shouldn’t exist.

It was completely unnecessary from a storytelling POV to create a sibling for Chloe, and your mere presence will diminish the show.

I can say this with utmost confidence after looking at the situation from every conceivable angle...

Without even needing to watch your eps or know why you were created.

(Although, I have a pretty good idea)

Some people might say WELL GIVE HER A CHANCE!!!!

Hmm... no.

Everything the show needs to be successful with Chloe’s character...

It’s already right there.

She does not need a secret sibling

She does not require a sweeter counterpart

And she definitely DOESN’T need Thomas constantly bashing her to impressionable fans online like she’s the Antichrist personified!

Seriously dude, if you hate her so much why bother creating her?

And if you hate her so much... why spend so long talking about her?

Despite his repeated denials, I think something another user here said is very true...

She DOES live ‘rent free’ in his head.

It sickens him that, despite his best efforts, she still has so many fans.

Not to worry, Thomas.

From what I see, there are still plenty of sycophants who agree with everything you say (even if they actually don’t)

After all, it’s enough for some to get a reply from the ‘great man’ himself

Why jeopardize that by trying to engage with him in a meaningful debate?

Especially when we know how handsy he is with the ‘block’ button.

Anyway, this went on for about a thousand more words than I meant it to.

I guess me and Thomas have just ONE thing in common (Thank God)

This is a topic which we both feel VERY strongly about.

The differently is of course, I have far less power in the process, and preach to a much smaller audience.

Still, I won’t let that stop me ranting away like a loon.

Hey, if it’s good enough for him... ;)

[ambiguousdisorderken]

in your expert opinion what are some of the most destiel-heavy episodes of spn? i stopped watching around season 7 and have no interest in engaging w the plot of the show at all but i’m in the mood for some gay yearning ykwim

Hi anon! Thank you for reaching out to me about this, I’m, no-joke, very flattered. I’d seen a couple posts on this same question, very thorough and detailed lists on Destiel-centric episodes, but at the moment I cannot find any of them, that would’ve answered your request much faster. So, in advance, sorry, my reply is probably coming in extremely late, but I did write this from scratch, so yeah.

Even though storylines in SPN can be very shitty and hollow, I do feel that to get the full Destiel experience -that long-drawn yearning- one would have to watch the entirety of the show, even if Cas isn’t in the episode or if there’s no explicit mention of their relationship/bond because it gives you a better understanding of them as characters and of how their relationship affects the narrative.

Now, you mentioned you stopped around S7, which is completely understandable and justified given the Dick plot game was very weak and, in my opinion, annoying (so little Cas!). I’m going to start listing from S7 in case you want to refresh your SPN before jumping straight into unseen episodes. Also, since you mentioned no interest in the plot and are specifically craving those sweet crumbs of gay yearning, I’ll skip most one-sided / too subtle episodes and cut to the chase.

Lastly, I hate spoiling things, but you’ve probably seen it all on Tumblr. I tried to keep the episodes’ descriptions short, as it might come in useful. Stuck to key words, quotes and/or little comments.

 Season 7

7x01 – Meet the New Boss: Godstiel, sincere apology. Cas: “I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.”

7x02 – Hello, Cruel World: Mourning. Trench coat melancholy. The heart-wrenching eulogy: “Dumb son of a bitch.”

7x17 – The Born-Again Identity: Emmanuel!Cas, reunion, longing, hurt.

7x21 – Reading is Fundamental: Honey!Cas, hug, hurt, reunion, that painful SORRY (board game) scene.

7x23 – Survival of the Fittest: Honey!Cas, forgiveness, adorable, wified Cas. Dean hits us with: “Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas!" but also “I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

Season 8 (this season is so good and Destiel is the driving motor of it, I swear. If you can, watch it complete.)

8x01 – We Need to Talk About Kevin: Dean in Purgatory looking for the angel.  Cas is referred to as “your [Dean’s] angel.”

8x02 – What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?: HUG!!!, Purgatory reunion, face touch, very romantic. Monster: “ You'll find your angel there.” //  Dean: “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you.”

8x05 – Blood Brother: Cas vs. Benny cat fight lol. Dean: “Cas... we're gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.”

8x07 – A Little Slice of Kevin: Cas comes back from Purgatory, but before that Dean starts seeing him in places. Very tragic; hallucinating your dead significant other trope. Has That boner scene. Dean: “I did everything I could to get you out! EVERYTHING!” Cas helps Dean see what truly happened in Purgatory and not his self-altered memories. PACKED!

8x08 – Hunteri Heroici: Hilarious, romantic, intimate. Dean and Cas have an heart to heart. They actually communicate. Cas “I’ll watch over you.”

8x10 Torn and Frayed: They work a case together, and when I say heart eyes…

8x17 – Goodbye Stranger: THIS. EPISODE. Dean “I need you.”

8x19 – Taxi Driver: Separation. Naomi to Dean: "You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty; I only wish he felt the same way."

8x22 – Clip Show: Lack of trust, hurt, tense interactions. Romantic too (basically, Cas gets Dean an apology basket).

8x23 – Sacrifice: Meaningful conversation and a gay couple hit by Cupid parallel. Dean “So this is it? E.T goes home?"

 Season 9

9x01 – I think I’m Gonna Like it Here: Dean prays to Cas IN.A.CHAPEL. Worry, longing, separation. Dean “Please, man, I need you here.”

9x03 – I’m No Angel: Human!Cas and jealous!Dean.

9x06 – Heaven Can’t Wait: Human!Cas TEXT-BOOK LONGING. GAY AS FUCK. Gazing, touching, they even TALK (for real).

9x09 – Holy Terror: Adorable Cas, flirty vibes, happyish, funny. Cas: “Cas is back in town!”

9x10 – Road Trip: Cas comforts Dean, Cas and Crowley bitching at each other, overall protective!Cas.

9x18 – Metafiction. Cas finds out about the Mark of Cain.

9x21 – King of the Damned: Hug, strong boyfriends vibes.

9x22 – Stairway to Heaven: Cas gives up an entire army, for Dean. Metatron about Cas “He's in love………………………. with humanity.”

9x23  – Do You Believe in Miracles?: At this point, it’s canon stated that Cas will do anything and lose everything if that means saving Dean. Metatron to Cas “You draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

 Season 10

10x01 – Black: Demon!Dean and sick/brokenhearted Cas in a slutty robe missing his man.

10x03 – Soul Survivor: ICONIC. Angel on Demon action! Cas turns down Hannah because he’s too gay and in love. Intimate Deancas talk.

10x05 – Fan Fiction: No Cas, but Destiel references. 

10x09 – The Things We Left Behind: That.Lunch.Date. Deancas introduction to co-parenting.

10x14 – The Executioner’s Song: We get Daddy Murder aka Cain. This is a Pivotal episode to understand Dean’s character development. Plus, it has Deancas interactions.

10x16 – Paint It Black: No Cas, but Dean opens up in confessionary; repressed BISEXUAL AS FUCK.

10x18 – Book of the Damned: Charlie meets Cas. Gay energies everywhere. Cute domestic little scene.

10x20 – Angel Heart: PARENTING! Essential to understand Cas from this point forward.

10x22 – The Prisoner: Just… just watch it. One of THEE Destiel episodes.

10x23 – Brother’s Keeper: No Deancas interactions but it’s the finale, and I recommend watching it because next season takes off literally right from here. No time jumps.

 Season 11

11x02 – Form and Void: Could skip to the very end which is when Cas comes back.

11x03 – The Bad Seed: Cursed!Cas. Dean takes care of him, even wraps him in a blanket. He also cradles his face. Extreme Hurt/Comfort. Jacting joices rejoice.

11x10 – The Devil in the Details: Could skip but has Casifer in it. Interesting to see his dynamic with Dean.

11x18 – Hell’s Angel: Casifer. Dean "It? It's not an it, Sam, it's Cas!"

11x23 – Alpha and Omega: Huggg! Cas willing to go on a guaranteed suicide mission with Dean. Very tender and sad.

 Season 12

12x02 – Keep Calm and Carry On: ANOTHER HUG! Dean presents his boyfriend to his mom<3 Soft and romantic.

12x09 – First Blood: Reunion hug<3, Cas pining… as in he counts his every minute without Dean.

12x10 – Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets: Direct parallel with canon couple. Crystal-clear mutual affection. One of the best. Angel Ishim to Cas about Dean “I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own… by cutting it out.”

12x12 – Stuck in the Middle with You: A dying Cas confesses his love. “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 – The Future: We find out Dean gave Cas a MIXTAPE!!! Very romantic and full of yearning, also worry and what could be seen as a betrayal (ish…).

12x23 – All Along the Watch Tower: Hands down, one of the most distressing Destiel episodes. Cas dies.

 Season 13

13x01 – Lost and Found: This is the worst because you have Dean trying to assimilate Cas’ death. Core of Dean’s widow’s arc. Jack introduction, that’s their new kid.

13x02 – The Rising Son: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?).

13x03 – Patience: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?). Dean to Sam “He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!”

13x04 – The Big Empty: Continuation of widow’s arc and Cas wakes up in the Empty. The Empty to Cas: "I know who you love. There's nothing for you back there." // Dean to Sam “I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.”

13x05 – Advanced Thanatology: Suicidal and hopeless Dean gets his win. Cas comes back. Gives me the chills.

13x06 – Tombstone: COWBOY BOYFRIENDS!

13x14 – Good Intentions: Happy and fun Destiel scene. So Very Married.

13x23 – Let The Good Times Roll: Season finale, Dean talks about retiring (plans include Cas of course) and just very nice to see them interact.

Season 14

14x03 – The Scar: Reunion.

14x08 – Byzantium: Deanand Cas dealing with their child’s death, then bringing him back by Cas making a deal with the Empty. IMPORTANT EPISODE.

14x09 – The Spear: Cas uses the royal We – married behavior.

14x10 – Nihilism: Dean is stuck in his own mind, and Cas and Sam try to bring him back. Cas “Please, you have to -- you have to try to remember, because the people in your life -- in your real life, out there -- we need you to come back.”

14x12 – Prophet and Loss: Dean gets his very own Dr. Sexy, aka Dr. Cas.

14x14 – Ouroboros: Basically another date (their kid tags along) and They TALK. Very intimate and established marriage vibes.

14x18 – Absence: Shits starts to go south. [ Dean: “Who cares what Jack said? We don't know what happened! But I swear, if he did something to her, if she is -- (points to Castiel) Then you're dead to me. (Castiel looks crushed after Dean says that).]

14x20 – Moriah: Tense and very upsetting. Relationship very damaged.

 Season 15 (I would advise watching the entire season because it relies heavily on Destiel. They’re the heart and the emotional motor leading the plot onwards.)

15x01 – Back and To The Future: Deancas’ in the aftermath of their kid’s death. Tension gets worse.

15x02 – Raising Hell: Tension rises, this is very intense. Cas “Dean. You asked, "What about all of this is real?" We are.”

15x03 – The Rupture: Breaking point ends in divorce.

15x06 – Golden Time: Painful phone call which speaks volumes about the current state of their relationship at the time. Also, good to see where they’re standing and how they’re coping.

15x08 – Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven: Strained relationship so obvious they’re offered couples’ therapy.

15x09 – The Trap: MASTERPIECE. Back to Purgatory. Can (and is) taken as Dean’s love confession (because it is). 

15x12 – Galaxy Brain: So married. Little domestic date, you can see LOVE written in their faces.

15x13 – Destiny’s Child: AU!Dean and Sam. Not a yearning episode per se, but AU!Dean? SO GAY.

15x17 – Unity: God reveals that the only act of free will in any universe he ever created has been Cas choosing Dean.

15x18 – Despair: Cas confesses his love to Dean.

[johobi]

Falling, Falling, Gone

Word count: 5.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: None really, it’s my first ‘SFW’ fic, though there is some extremely bad language in here. And there might be an erection because I can’t help myself.

A/N: This is the fourth and final ‘drabble’ for the drabble game I ran ages ago. Prompt: “The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you.”

Music inspo: Don’t Be So Serious, Baby Don’t Stop, Waste It On Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477485

Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection.

So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

Banana and peanut butter become pulp in your mouth as you glare out the kitchen window. It's so grey out there. Greyer than it has any right to be. As if your dour mood has polluted the very atmosphere. Rain lashes the exterior in leaden pellets, each one compounding your headache like a rap on the head. Don't be so serious, your bluetooth speaker croons as you chew and chew, unblinking. The bridge of your glasses slip further down your nose but you don’t correct them. Don't be so serious.

Oh, but it's all so serious. 

Your final portfolio lacks in ways your mentor is incapable of articulating, and you only have so much time to fix it. Your college life is coming to a close. There are frighteningly few opportunities out there and they’re sure to spurn a sham like you. What do you do now? Where do you go from here—

"God, you listen to such depressing music," a husky voice sounds. It’s thick with sleep and horribly attractive. You hear his feet next; big and bare as they slap the tile floor and disrupt the ambience. 

Yes, dismal is an ambience. 

Before you glimpse the interloper himself, his fingers pilfer your next mouthful of toast. His other hand has your phone and is skipping through your carefully curated playlist of moody tunes. With all the scant energy you can muster, you glower at him. 

“Taehyung.” 

Soccer captain. Campus celebrity. Doofus.

Unlikely friend and unlikelier crush. But life is strange, and he is both these things. Indeed, he proclaims himself your best friend to all who will listen. As for the matter of your tender feelings, however, he is oblivious. And will remain so.

Taehyung is long-legged and limber-bodied, but round of face and feature. A kitten in a tiger’s pelt. Will mew for affection and roar when angry. Has quite literally nudged your hand for pets and raged at referees in the same afternoon. There is usually no in-between. 

Your scowl goes unseen. He sidles past like the oblivious buffoon he is and continues to tamper with Spotify.  Smears his peanut-buttered thumb around your phone display. Ugh. You brush back your hood and fix him again with extra scorn.

"Actually, douchebag, it’s good music for thinking. And I have a headache. I hardly wanna listen to something like—no, don't you dare put fucking Party Rock on right now. Tae!"

It’s too late. The lanky idiot is already gesticulating to the beginning beats. Your phone is an unreachable hostage in his flapping hands. You’re about to lunge for it but he preempts the attack by smothering you with your own hood. “Tae.” Your whining sounds all the more pitiful muffled. “Everyfing hurfs. ‘m hungover. Pleathe.” 

Taehyung relents after further, strangled pleas. Unwraps you with a grin that grows like the sunrise. For a moment, you’re dazzled. “Sorry. No more torture,” he chuckles all low, hair in his eyes. His locks are long and always untamed. An aureate crown befitting of his celebrity status. 

One swipe and he’s muted the racket and returned your phone. You turn the sticky thing over in your hands, rueing the day you met the overgrown imp. “How did you get it this dirty…?”

You go ignored and Taehyung gets closer. He scrutinises your hunched and hoodied appearance with a thoughtful hum. “Headache?” A rounded nose and two brown eyes come into focus. "Hungover? How? I didn't see you go out last night."

Averse to such study, you shy away. "Well, I did." You did not. You stayed home and guzzled $4 Prosecco while lamenting your trash portfolio. But you aren’t about to regale him with that pitiful tale. The sheerness of shame prevents you. Taehyung would be so sweet about it, too! So buoying, with his sunny smiles and fervent encouragement: "Why were you crying over that?!" He'd ask. "Your work is amazing. Seriously amazing. I love everything you do!" He'd gush. "People will be stumbling over themselves to hire you!" He'd continue, naively. And that hurts the most, because he just doesn't get it. Taehyung is a sponsored, collegiate athlete that's graduating into a guaranteed draft. He is—and always has been—praised widely as up-and-coming. The kid has had scouts scrapping for him mid-way through high school!

You, however, are small fry, swimming in a shoal of other unknowns, leaping for the hook of internship. Your dreams of animating for Disney died long back. They dwelled with Walt now.

But you don’t resent Taehyung for any of it. Ever. He’s a paragon. Born for the limelight. Has sweat and bled oceans for it. And for some reason he insists that you, too, are deserving of that same renown. Why? He’s ridiculous. Far too kind. And—Christ, he has a big dick.

"Taehyung, can you please not shove your tiny fucking penis in my face while I'm trying to eat? I'm nauseous enough as it is."

The soccer captain rests a foot on the seat next to you, giving you ungainly insight into his crotch. Taehyung, as he often, inexplicably is, is clad only in his boxer-briefs. This would be alarming were it not so goddamn commonplace. He is allergic to clothes.

According to him, he’s a naturist. 

According to you, he’s an attention whore.

Taehyung points to his elevated foot, but it's a little difficult to ignore the bulge he's brandishing. "Do you understand the concept of inappropriate proximity and your current state of undress?" You rattle on, words slurred half by OJ, half by fluster. He simply points again, and with more insistence. Relenting, you follow the line of his finger to his pretty, if gigantic, foot. Then notice the ink around his ankle, black and fresh. "Oh, wow, you got a tattoo? Cool!"

"Yep! I didn't ever really think about getting one 'til I saw yours. They were so cool I became kinda obsessed with getting one. So I finally did it last night."

‘Til he saw yours? Your stomach flutters. It's not the nausea. You smother it with more orange juice. "Well, that's awesome, Tae. You'll probably want more eventually. I would've gone with you if I'd known you were gonna go alone."

Finally, he lowers his leg. It’s a small mercy. But then, for no discernible, earthly reason, Taehyung begins flexing his many defined muscles. His calves in particular catch your attention. They’re so goddamned thick. They ripple. Fucking soccer players. "Hm? Oh, I wasn't alone. I went with some guys from the team." He ogles his reflection in the microwave door.

How can you avert your eyes when his pecs dance so compellingly? It all becomes a bit too much. "Okay, what are you doing? Seriously, what? I know you're into yourself, but this is ridiculous.” He stops. Snorts. Thank God. “If you were with the guys, why did you come back here last night? I thought you’d go back to your dorm."

Finally Taehyung sits, but he’s spread-legged and that’s perhaps worse than what he was doing just now. He’s 6ft of pure, hewn sex and just so fucking casual about it. He reclines. "Some of them took girls home last night so I needed somewhere to go and you're always an open door." Finger guns follow a cheesy wink.

You scoff, but he's right. You’d do anything for the big-hearted clown. Open door? You'd be the doormat under his soccer cleats, licking them free of dirt— "You're lucky Areum isn’t here right now. Don't think she’d take kindly to having some almost-naked oaf clambering into her bed."

"You say that, but she’s tried to hit this several times.” Taehyung is smug, brows high on his forehead. Yours lower harshly. “Tell her I slept in her bed last night. She’ll cream herself thinking about it later, I guarantee you."

“You’re gross. And can you stop—why do you keep flexing? There’s just me here.” You peer about for emphasis. Taehyung is again admiring his form in some burnished surface. “No-one is looking. Or cares.” Contrarily, you’re doing both those things. But he needn’t be privy to that. 

"This is serious. I need to work on my angles.” He contorts himself into something of a pretzel to peek at his back muscles. “We're holding a hook-up auction at our dorm to raise money for a graduation blow-out. And I'm on sale. Do you think I need to work on my back?"

You ease into a squint. "When you said serious, I thought serious words were about to follow."

"I am being serious!" Again Taehyung flexes, biceps bulging by his ears like an overfed turkey’s thighs. "How much do you think I'm worth?"

The world.

"I dunno. I'd take you for free, I guess, if you were the last one left."

Taehyung is unperturbed by your acerbic wit. It ricochets off him like rubber bullets would a muscle-bound ox. He is your greatest adversary. The bastard lacquers his lips until they’re plump and glossy and boasting a smirk. 

He’s always doing this. 

Always moistening himself. 

"Oh yeah? Well, I think you'll be disappointed." A boxy smile emerges. "I got girls and guys already approaching me about it. Some of the guys literally just wanna buy me for mentoring. I mean, that’s more effort than kissing, but—" He shrugs. The thought goes unfinished.

"That makes sense. You are a God among these mere mortals, Taetae." It's not sarcasm this time. Taehyung senses it. The grin he returns is life-affirming. You're so close to reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Telling him you're proud. Telling him you most likely, maybe, love him. But you notice you've dragged your sleeve through peanut butter—”Ah, shit,”—and you can tell him how you feel some other day.

Some other day.

"Some of them just wanna make out too, of course, and, like, I'm happy to comply. It's all for charity." His altruism knows no limits.

"Charity, huh?" You snort. Taehyung's mouth grows more square at your incredulity. "Who else is up for bidding, then?"

"Mostly guys from the team and dorm. There are some mutuals who just wanna get in on the action, too. Uh, you know Kim Namjoon?" He measures your reaction. When you give none: "Jeon Jungkook?"

Disinterest mellows your features. "Oh, right. Cool."

"So you don't like Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes are eager, his body poised. Anticipating.

"What? No. What gave you that idea? I've talked to him, like, twice." Your face crumples as you towel your soiled sleeve. The peanut butter smears into a tragic, shit-brown stain. "Damn, that's never coming out."

"He's gonna be so disappointed. He might even cry." Taehyung heaves a hammy sigh and clutches at his breast. There’s nothing the captain enjoys more than clowning his subordinates.  "Kook likes you so much. He's really into your whole androgynous fuckboi thing you got going on. He literally said, 'She's like a mystery, man. I'm not sure if she's a girl or a guy and—like, I'm not like that, but that's hot.'"

If your eyes could roll past the bounds of their sockets, they would. "Wow, what a poet. He sounds like a douchebag and I'm even less interested now. Fuckboi? Is that really the vibe I give off?" You don't fuck full stop. Nor were you aware you could dress like you do. 

"I dunno. You just seem kinda like a gremlin to me. Or like that weird guy from Death Note," Taehyung is quick to reassure you. Cool. You’re fucking overjoyed that he perceives you that way. Not as a goddess, or his beautiful, sexy soulmate, or the princess that wanders the spires of his captive heart. No. A gremlin. Or L.

"Well, you got me there, son."

"What about Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung presses, urgent again. He picks at your bread crusts with one hand, head cradled delicately in the other. The boy could be a world-class model, too. His loose, dark curls hang like a Van Gogh nightscape, framing the planes of his unmarred face. It hurts to look at him. It hurts to be looked at.

A self-conscious shuffle. "What about him? I don't know who that is." You flick away his foraging fingers but he draws you into an impromptu game of thumb-war in retaliation. It's the only thing to extract a smile from you today.

Taehyung looks sceptical. "He's the physio student with our team! You literally talked to him all day during this season's semi-final." His lengthy digits best yours easily. But though the match is won, he doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he encroaches further. Thumbs your wrist. Encompasses your knuckles in a soft, warm palm. He’s clasping you like an enamoured suitor might their bashful sweetheart, and it’s very strange. What is he doing? His mind looks to be elsewhere, now.

"Uh...—oh. Oh." Yours ambles back to you. "Yeah, he was really nice, but you know my rule. No—"

"—dating in final year. Yeah, I know. I'll tell him that if he asks about you again." Taehyung has returned, too. His hand is gone. Your gooseflesh ebbs with it.

With a cough, you sober. "I think the auction's a bit stupid, really, Tae. You sure you wanna do it?"

"Stupid? Why?" He shimmies in close, smug on his face and intolerably naked the rest of the way down. His skin is hot and golden and just far too close. "You're only saying that because you're jealous, right?" He tickles your chin to keep you honest and your eyes on him. You seize and squeeze the offending hand because he might be right and now you’re embarrassed. "The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you," he goes on to say, brazen as the smirk defiling his cherubic cheeks.

"Some rather large conclusion-jumping going on there," you smile, sweet as sugared cyanide. Your vice-grip tightens until he’s pouting in repentance. "I meant it's stupid to put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation if you don't want to kiss that person." 

"I'm just joking!" he whimpers like the overlarge puppy he is and you free him of his snare. Because you would die for this big, soppy boy and his big, soppy eyes. “You’re so grouchy today.”

‘The joke won’t land if it collides with the truth, Taehyung,’ you muse. You expect him to know this despite never having apprised him of your situation. You’re jealous and cowardly and completely unreasonable. You want him for yourself but you never want him to know that. 

If he wants your candour he should be a telepath. Simple.

Irritated by your own nonsense, you lash out at the unsuspecting boy. "You know what? I was joking, too. I remember Namjoon, he was hot. And smart. I think I'll cheat on my dating ban this once and bid on him. He has super nice lips, so." 

Taehyung simply smiles. "Oh, okay. Cool! Glad you’re gonna come along." 

Your threat proves ineffective because he doesn’t like you like that. Wouldn’t give a shit if Namjoon rawed you on stage while you stared him down. You stall on that thought because it’s kinda hot. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait to get my tongue down his throat.”

“Hell yeah! I knew you liked him.”

Yep, Taehyung is oblivious to your pining. As he should be. Because outwardly, your pining consists of nothing more than the odd, lingering look here and there. The balled-up sketches of him he will never see. A secret smile if you’re feeling particularly sentimental. Other than that, you're steely. Poker-faced. Rarely blind-sided by his allure, especially now that you've acclimated to his penchant for exhibitionism. 

 "Thank you in advance for your patronage." Rising from his seat, Taehyung comes to a stand behind you and leans. Encircles your shoulders with his terribly athletic arms and puts his lips to your ear. You're like a feral cat in the arms of a senseless child. You're bristling. "If he turns out to be a jerk and tries something he shouldn't, I'll protect you." For a moment, you're touched enough to unclench a little. "With these guns." And then you choke between his straining biceps and vie to repay him in kind.

----

The common room of Taehyung's dorm has been crudely transformed. Some questionable construction has taken place in order to build the catwalk centrepiece. Sofas and tables line the walls, thrust from the limelight. You've occupied the drinks table for the last 45 minutes, from the second you entered this place. You harbour an intense dislike for the chaotic energy of Taehyung's dorm. Machismo rages noisily between these walls and you much prefer less testosterone-drenched environments. Nevertheless, despite it all you're here on an endeavour this evening. One your idiot, rampant mouth has obligated you to. To buy time with a guy that's perfectly nice and all, but isn’t Taehyung.

Kim Namjoon makes eyes at you from the head of the runway, awaiting his musical cue. The beer you just slurped down bubbles up. You have to look away. Unfortunately, when you do, Taehyung is immediately there, his face in yours, his thumb and fingers pulling at your cheeks. "Hey you, don't get too drunk, okay? I don't trust a single man here. Especially not nice-as-pie Namjoon." 

Nice-as-pie Namjoon has chosen some Bruno Mars track by the sounds of it. The auction-goers' excitement ramps up considerably.

Unable to move your captured face, your eyes sweep the room. "Not even your own teammates?" you scoff cynically, swatting at his hands until he’s baited into a game of slapsies. "Now who sounds jealous?" 

Taehyung stops for a moment, thoughtful. "You know, you're right. I'm extremely jealous. I want Namjoon all to myself. He gives the best massages. And a happy ending when I ask nicely." And then he's back to rough-housing you, slapping your upper arms to alternating beats. "You look cute tonight. Your outfit, I mean," he offers up out of nowhere, so quiet you almost lose it to the bass. "He's lucky."

But you look exactly the same as you did earlier that day. Exactly the same as that afternoon in the cafeteria when he ribbed you for raiding Billie Eilish's Good Will donations. "Um, thanks. I guess." You're genuine, but don’t sound it. You can't look at him for fear of revealing the dopey grin that has hijacked your face.

"You're welcome, buddy." A large palm flattens your hair. His fingers get all in there, ruffling it until it probably looks more akin a bird's nest. Is Taehyung trying to sabotage you? Also, buddy? "Look, Namjoon's walking." 

You turn and see that he is. Strutting, moreover, albeit awkwardly. It's obvious that the lanky boy is unaccustomed to the same attention the team he services is. Nevertheless, there are whoops and hollers aplenty for the handsome blonde dork, and you, too, catch yourself smiling. How can you not, when he pokes at his dimples so? The others seem captivated, too, though less by the  finger-hearts and more by his form-fitting tracksuit. 

“I’d wrap my car around a tree if he was the tree,” one auction-goer confides to her friend. “And then I’d wrap my legs around—”

“Yeah, we get it Lisa.”

Lisa quiets. 

Namjoon’s endless legs sidle to a stop at the catwalk's end, directly opposite you. His bespectacled eyes meet your bespectacled eyes. For one, long second, the interest is palpable.  But then he breaks, and casts his gaze down to his FILAs. 

"Okay, he's, like, in love with you, I think," Taehyung whisper-yells, hands aflurry in applause. "Are you gonna bid?"

Shouts puncture the cheering either side of the room.

"$10!"

"$20!"

Neither of them are you.

The evening’s auctioneer - Taehyung's partner-in-slime Park Jimin - echoes each cry that rings out, giggling into a tinny karaoke mic. "$20 for our team physio?! Is that all you got ladies and gents? Do I have to remind you this guy can grope away pain with his magic hands?"

Namjoon spins toward Jimin's makeshift podium of an upturned bookcase and menaces him with his eyes. Well, it would be menacing were the man not as threatening as a ribbon-wrapped basket of newborn sloths.

The striker backpedals. "Okay, the massage might not be included, but don't let that deter you! He kisses like a pro!"

Screams of how do you know that, Jimin?! erupt and the throng grows ever more wild. Namjoon is redder than the cup you're strangling.

"Are you gonna bid?! You're gonna miss your chance!" For some reason Taehyung is still here, harassment game still strong. He should be preparing to walk next, but sees fit to pester you instead. And because of that, he's caught you in your lie, bare-faced and blushing.

No, you are not going to bid on Kim Namjoon.

"Uh, oh no, I forgot my purse," you grumble around the rim of your next drink, gulping it down like the bottom is your way out of this God-awful situation.

Then what are you doing here?

"It's right there." Taehyung pokes the cross-body bag hanging traitorously by your side.

"Oh, is it?" You reach for another cup even while burdened with one. Anything to sidetrack this conversation.

Taehyung intervenes with a firm hand. Swaddles your knuckles ‘til the shaking stops. You’re shaking? Beer slops over the sides, unnoticed. “___?”

Stupid, warm hand. And why are his fingers so fucking delicate for a footballer? He should model jewellery. Wedding rings.

Yours.

His ringless fingers close around your wrist when you persist in avoiding his gaze. The ruse is almost up. Fuck. There’s nothing left to do but to look at him. 

You do, ever so timidly. “What?”

"What are you doing?" Puzzlement becomes him well. Why is he so goddamn handsome? "If you aren't gonna bid on Namjoon, why did you come?"

Silence, but for the pump of background Bruno Mars.

‘You. I came for you. You were the plan all along. Not him,’ your mind screams.

You, however, just stare.

"Going—going—gone! Sold for $70! Come claim your kiss!" Jimin can hardly stop himself from squealing. For a guy that beds girls on the daily, his sincere excitement over simple lip-locking is amusing.

Taehyung's teammates hail him from the drapery behind the catwalk but he won't yet go. No, he insists on searing holes into the side of your face while you watch Namjoon get sloppy on-stage with some girl you don't know. They're really getting into it. Damn, he forgot about you quick. In  their fervour they edge towards the bounds of the catwalk, too absorbed in one another to notice. Thankfully, voyeuristic bystanders are on-hand to catch them before they fall.

"Kim Taehyung! How many times do I have to call you?! Get over here before I kick your fucking ass," Jungkook roars across the hubbub, halfway through the room. He  enacts the violent gesture for emphasis and knees some unsuspecting girl in the ass. Immediately the macho facade drops and he's all doe-eyed and buck-toothed, prostrating himself before the girl who actually seems grateful to have been assaulted by one Jeon Jungkook. Between his hushed apologies, Jungkook shoots Taehyung a look something murderous. And then he sees you and throws a shy wave, the kind a little kid might when cajoled by his parents.

"Ew." The word comes up involuntarily, like bile.

A deep cackle emanates from beside you. "Okay, guess I'm up." Taehyung squares his shoulders. His mouth, too. He's a very angular boy. "Better get my kit on. Cheer for me!" With a pat to your shoulder, he makes for Jungkook. Leaves you with an insidious dread. His soccer kit is your weakness. 

No, he is your weakness.

"Next up - and I'm sure most of you here tonight are anticipating this guy - our very own Team Captain and soon-to-be Major League Soccer player, Kim Taehyung!" Banshee-shrieking reverberates at Jimin's announcement. "Stick around, he'll be out in a few minutes!"

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You turn from the catwalk and fully embrace the drinks table, supporting yourself with two hands and God's grace.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

No way.

This wasn’t an actual plan. Just a fantasy.

You're not gonna tell him like this.

You're not gonna tell him ever.

All you have to do is just say you turned out to support him. You rarely get to go out with him anyway, what with his ever-growing entourage. Taehyung would appreciate that, and he'd never have to know that you came here for cornier purposes.

You're not a big gesture kind of girl.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

Distantly, you wished Areum were here. She'd have slapped some sense into you, maybe even literally.

No. Wait.

The devious cow would've talked you into doing it. For sure. She has a flair for the dramatic.

"Sorry, can I just—thanks." Someone with offensively bony elbows bulldozes you aside and passes a drink to her companion. An apology is on the tip of your tongue but evaporates into the ether upon seeing the twosome in question. Both were complicit in the casual bullying you endured during your high school years. They don't appear to recognise you now. Not that they even spare your pitiful person a glance.

"Who's up next?" the worst one queries, cup snug to her bosom.

"Taehyung," the lackey answers, glee upending her petulant features. "Kim Taehyung."

An elbow jabs you again as the girl struggles with the clasp on her clutch. Her overlong claws impede her. "Oh shit, already? I thought we had more time. Shit."

"Nope. It's go time. Hurry up, girl, competition's gonna be fierce." The other one watches her digital acrobatics to get into her purse.

Oh God. She has so much money. There's no doubt in your mind she'll trump everyone present.

No. Oh, no.

Not her. Not with him.

Your mind flits through premonitions of the future. They’re all  rather grim. The last one is that of a wedding. A marriage between this dreadful bitch and your most cherished of friends, Taehyung. It's garish and tacky - she's denied him input, of course - and the ceremony is filled with faces that once mocked you mercilessly. None of Taehyung's friends are there; indeed, he is no longer even part of his team. Her possessiveness and his undying loyalty have put an end to his blossoming career. He looks sad beneath a mask of happy. Eyes that once blazed with the embers of ambition are doused by despondency. He is a husk.

And their first meeting is this auction, this cute anecdotal encounter of oh, I just had to have him, and when I kissed him I knew.

Just a glimpse at this dystopian future disturbs you silly. Conviction, while tentative, burgeons in your heart.

You can't let her have him. Anyone but this noxious cunt.

And suddenly you've money in hand, too. Bills you withdrew specifically for this purpose, and yet would sooner have left them crisp and cold in your purse than followed through. But public humiliation is endlessly preferable to damning Taehyung to a kiss with this serpent. Because it won't stop there. It won't just be a kiss but an appeal for more. She’ll say it’s no strings attached, but she doesn't attach strings. She weaves webs. You recall her high school boyfriend. He was a well-performing, jovial guy that always waved hi. And she consumed him, heart-first, ‘til he was naught but a sunken-eyed zombie. He took a leave of absence that never ended.

Sexy, dangerous synth sounds from the speakers either side the catwalk. Ah, shit. Not that song. Any song but that one. NCT U’s Baby Don’t Stop. Of course Taehyung picked that. It fills the air with a fatal drum beat and in he comes through the curtains, strutting like he is the rhythm. The room, rather than become uproarious, falls eerily quiet. Everyone breathes as one entranced being, and no one moves but him. Halfway down the catwalk he body-rolls with the fluidity of wind-rippled satin, burgeoning from his chest and snapping at the hips. Prospective bidders gasp, as do you. And then his thumb is in the hem of his shirt, luring it upwards, exposing his olive expanses inch by mouthwatering inch. You see his abs near every day, but in this context, backed by that song, you find yourself as winded as everyone else. His stomach tautens for show, feeding into loose-waisted shorts that sit far too low. Even you haven’t been privy to this much. And especially not the alluring trail of hair that thickens at his waistband.

Someone shatters the stupor and screams, “$80!”

“Geez, you’re a horny bunch.” Jimin’s laughter peals. “We already have $80. Any advance on—“

“$100!” Some breathless sap cries next. “Oh my God, look at his thighs!”

And look you do. Taehyung grooves at the catwalk’s end, shirt back in place but hiking up the hems of his shorts instead.  You almost glimpse groin. He’s absolutely shameless, straining the muscles of his thighs until they’re lewdly pronounced. They’re veritable tree trunks. His calves, too, defy belief. Rock-hard and rounded and begging to be bitten. The party-goers crowding round his feet must think similarly. 

What distracts you most, however, are Taehyung’s straying fingers. They skirt his crotch in a salacious manner, stretching the material where it shouldn’t. Accentuating things they shouldn’t. You may pass out.

All the while his eyes are down, maybe closed. You want to see his face more than anything. The playful smirk on his plump, wet lips and the focus in his brows. 

“$120!!” You almost lose your head to a cash-strangling fist beside you.

It's her. Pointy-elbowed bitch.

But you aren't thrusting your student loan up just yet. You're in the middle of an almost holy, revelatory experience. Taehyung is still undulating and provoking the crowd, who are no longer hushed but whooping like chimps in heat. His shirt is off and helicoptering overhead. He allows one overcome girl at the sidelines to verify the thew of his biceps and bags himself another bid. You, however, do nothing but gawp, bills clutched to your chest and your eyes affixed to the glorious grin that breaks across his face. His eyes open onto you and then it's you you see at his wedding, standing afore him, bouquet instead of a wad of cash. You want to be the one. Now is the moment, while he's watching you envision this.

"$200,” you splutter. Volume is difficult when your voice is a quivering inconstant.

"What was that? Did we just get another bid?" Jimin wavers too, out of disbelief. "Did someone say $200?!"

The room is a clamour of confusion but Taehyung watched you mouth the very syllables. The shock is such that it softens his salacious movements to a dance more modest. His eyes are wider than you've ever seen them; mouth too. It hangs agape and downturned, as yours does. Because you're not quite sure whether you said something else altogether. Maybe you hurled a cuss word out of frustration? Did you momentarily black out and proclaim Hitler did nothing wrong? Nothing else can account for the scrutiny with which he punishes you with now.

Or.

You actually did bid, and that's why he's walking over, to the very drop-off of the catwalk, no longer any swagger to his step. "What are you doing?" he calls down, the music still strong and now strangely inappropriate. You simply watch the mole beneath his bottom lip move, dumb.

Louder, now, you call again. "$200!"

"Oh! It was a bid! ____?!" The flame-haired MC shares his puzzlement with the rest of the reacting room. All heads turn toward you.

But yours turns nowhere but Taehyung, your expression an open book of long-hidden liking. You watch, suspended by dissociation, as he lays a palm flat against his chest. "Me?"

It could all still be explained away. A joke. You drank too much. You just wanted to see the look on his face. Instead, you grant him the minutest of nods. A simple tip of the chin. "You," you whisper, whether it's heard or not.

Taehyung sees it in the shape your lips make. And then his gaze sweeps back upward, his chest heaving far too much for a man standing stationary.

"What's going on?" The disgruntled echo each other.

Jimin is quick to make sense of things and keep it rolling. "Okay, so, a bid of $200! Anyone else?"

A new song comes on; it's gone on too long. Something with a cantering beat that's adequately sentimental.

So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time—

Clambering atop the platform, you counter someone's desperate bid of $220 with a measured breath. "$250." You hold Taehyung at fingerpoint. "You."

Waste it on me.

For a pants-shitting second, nothing happens. Your outstretched arm gains a tremor that could crumble it. Taehyung sifts your soul with his big, dewy eyes and then he's walking. Stalking toward you. Knocks the money from your hands and seizes your shying face with both of his. The last thing you see is his nose mole before his mouth joins with yours. His grip is like a vice and his lips are no gentler. They pry you open with little effort and then you're flooded with wet heat. Taehyung is insatiable in pursuit of your tongue. His hands drop to draw in your waist, your chest, every inch of your overclothed form. He's underclothed but burning hot, planes of honed skin beneath your fingertips. It's all so right. Feels so good. Taehyung moans that much into you when he chances a breath of air. Applause starts up as the music swells. It's so cliche but you've never had a cliche of your own before and your gloom-ridden ass needs this.

"Going—"

"I didn't know. I wish I had. This would've happened sooner," Taehyung gasps between desperate, too-short smooches. It proves too difficult to resist the pull of your mouth and he captures it again, sloppier. Slower.

"Going—"

"It doesn't matter." You pull the oxygen in, impatient. "Doesn't matter." Your fingers are a tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging on his lustrous locks. "Make up for it."

"Gone! Sold for $250!"

The two of you won't be parted for a moment. Not even when dismounting the platform. There's ruckus around you but it's so distant when his lips are on you. You sink into him like you would a scalding bath. "You don't have to pay that," Taehyung tells your cheek, smearing his saliva-slick mouth back to yours. His greed for you manifests against your stomach, and you ache in return. "This is a freebie."

Your passionate clinch takes you to the sidelines, away from prying eyes. Most of them, anyway. "What about this?" Your hands are suddenly in unseemly places.

"Th-That's also free. Everything's free. Oh, God."

[mandoalorian]

Found Family [Din Djarin x Reader]

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mention of anxiety, slight angst and feelings of guilt, general Star Wars lore.

Author's note: short and sweet because I'm super excited for the Mandalorian season two! Only five days away! Enjoy!

Translations:

Mesh'la - beautiful

Cyar'ika - darling/sweetheart

Aliit - family

MASTERLIST

You sunk into the co-pilot seat of the Crest, feeling a wash of anxiety flood over you. You awaited the Mandalorian to return to the cockpit— he was just checking on the child. The child was unconscious after mustering up all of that mysterious energy he whelmed to save your life. The child saved your life at the risk of losing his own. You couldn't understand it.

You crossed your arms over your chest and as you heard his footsteps near you, your heart rate increased speed. With every heavy footstep he took, the armoury hung on the walls clattered. Without a hitch or a noise, he slid into the pilot seat, setting destination back to Nevarro before flicking a few buttons and pulling a lever down. You felt the Crest bolt forward as it lifted from the ground and into the air.

For the first few minutes, you both sat in silence. Glancing down at Din’s vibroknife, pushed into his holster, you figured you could use it to cut the tension that hung in the air. You fumbled around with your fingers, trying to just focus on the journey ahead— but your mind was wandering. "Din…" your voice was merely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

He didn't reply. You saw the dirt stained leather of his gloves tighten around his fingers as he flexed them over the nav system. You waited a moment, in desperate hope he’d say something. Anything. But not a single word came from his mouth. The guilt you were feeling was surreal. "Please…" you said softly, closing your eyes and sending a silent prayer to the Maker. In this moment, you had wished for an Imperial Star Destroyer to come out of lightspeed and blast you into a billion pieces. You wanted a black hole to swallow you up. 

You had never seen Din so angry. Of course, you hadn't even seen him without his helmet before but— it was in his movements. The negative energy resonated with the way he walked, the lack of communication, his stiffness...

"I… I didn't mean it." You promised Din, finally earning a modulated grunt from him as he briefly shook his head in disbelief. He didn't move. He didn't turn to you. His eyes were still locked on the route ahead. "You were gone for so long."

It was hardly an excuse and you knew it, but you were just trying to swindle some kind of response from him. You couldn’t stand the silent treatment. Din had gone on a very important bounty three days ago. Sure, he told you to wait by the ship, but as time went on and the nights got colder… you felt an ache in your heart. Pent up worry. What if something had happened to him? You and Din had never discussed such contingency plans before. Did he just expect you to wait at the Crest for the rest of your life? On a planet as dangerous as Felucia? It wasn’t like you could pilot a ship as unique as the Razor Crest. You relied on Din and you had to know if he was okay.

It just so happened, as you left the Crest that afternoon, Din and the child were on their way back. And thank the Maker for that. Carrying the child in his satchel, Din raced through the vibrant floral forest - blaster in hand - shooting at the running bounty. You heard his blaster first, stopping abruptly in your footsteps, your boots crunching in the autumnal orange leaves that laid beneath you. You heard running, followed by further blaster bolts. Hurtling towards you was a fair skinned man dressed in what could only be described as ex-Imperial uniform, a crimson red cape loosely tied around his neck. You froze up as his cold eyes bore into you and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t move. You were stuck. The man dived on top of you, pushing you backwards into the mud and slamming his hand over your mouth. You shuffled helplessly underneath him, trying to rid yourself from his grip - but it was no use. You wanted to cry. 

Din hurried towards you, his heart sinking when he saw his bounty straddling you. Seeing the bounty reach in his pocket and grab a knife, he held it to your throat. Din dropped his blaster and scrambled to get his pulse rifle out of his pocket. The little green ears of the child poked out of Din’s satchel and engulfed the image of you being held hostage by the bounty. The child raised his hand and closed his eyes. It was that mysterious energy again. The bounty froze up, knife in hand, just inches away from your neck. It gave Din enough time to wield his pulse rifle and set it for stun. Instantaneously, Din shot him. As the man fell limp on your body, so did the child, falling back into the satchel - unconscious. Din ran towards you, hap-hazardly pushing the man off you and kneeling by your side. “Kriff, are you alright?” He asked, cupping your cheek with his hand. “What happened?”

Dazed, you tried to refocus your eyes on the Mandalorian who was kneeling before you. “H-had been gone for days,” you said, forcing yourself to sit up and dust the dried up mud off your clothes the best you can. “Was worried.”

“So you left the Crest and came looking for me? Are you out of your mind?” Din raised his voice and you began to feel the guilt pool up in your stomach. “Did you not, for one second, consider your own safety? Look at you,” Din scoped your body. “Didn’t even bring a weapon.”

With a heated sigh, Din stood up and began walking away from you. Confused and with a little wobble, you scrambled to your feet before chasing after the Mandalorian. “I- I didn’t plan on going far,” you told the bounty hunter. “I just had to see if you were nearby.”

The Mandalorian didn’t speak a word to you until you had both returned back to the Razor Crest later that night. The memory of what had happened earlier that day felt like a dagger in Din’s heart. He couldn’t stay mad at you for too long. You were foolish, yes, but he knew you didn’t have any bad intentions. Din contemplated for a moment before finally deciding to part his lips.

"And I gave you specific instructions to wait here for me." His voice was cold, but you breathed a sigh of relief. At least now he was talking to you.

"You had never been gone this long before," you informed him. You felt ashamed, embarrassed. Not only had you done a really silly thing, but you had done it against the will of one of the most esteemed bounty hunters in the parsec. "And the child…" 

"You would've died," he deadpanned. "If it wasn't for me, you would've died." You couldn't count on it, but you were sure that you heard his voice break slightly as he spat out those words. And it was true. If Din hadn’t been on the tail of the bounty then who knows what would’ve happened to you.

"I know, Din." you couldn't find excuses. You knew it would just get you into more trouble.

More silence filled up the cockpit. "And what would I do if you had died?" He paused, realising he might be sounding only a touch selfish. "What about the kid? He needs you." You placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing small circles in a comforting manner. "I need you." he revealed, looking down at your fingers and letting his gaze follow up to your arm and to your face. You were still looking down at the ground when he removed his hand from the steering device and tilted your chin upwards. "Look at me, mesh'la." His voice was low and rasp.

You looked up at him, blinking a few times to try and rid yourself of the guilty tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I'm sorry Din." you repeated, hoping he could find the genuine sorrow in your voice.

"He- he was an ex-Imperial warlord. A big name in the Empire," Din informed you, gesturing to the back of the ship at his bounty who had only recently been frozen in carbonite. "People like him… they're dangerous. Do you know what they would do if they got their hands on someone like you? Someone as beautiful as yourself?" Din cursed in Mando’a under his breath and you shuffled in your chair uncomfortably. "Yeah…" Din's voice said, sensing your discomfort. "Fuck, it would be bad."

"I know Din." you wiped a tear from your eye. You didn't know the Mandalorian cared for you this much. You supposed it was because neither of you had ever been faced with a situation quite like this before. It really put things into perspective.

"Stormtroopers are one thing," Din conceded. "I've been to places. Seen things. Warlords like him hide on outer-rim planets, hiding in palaces being worshipped by the low ranked ex-Imps. Oh, they'd love someone like you in the outer-rim. Such a pretty thing. They'd keep you as a slave, for sure."

You winced at the revelation. You had heard of such stories, and you could only imagine how worse it would’ve been under New Republic rule. Imperial hide outs had always been scattered around the outer-rim but now, after the Empire had fallen, the New Republic seemingly ignored everything that wasn’t in the core or deep core. That’s what made bounties so dangerous, especially this one to Felucia. Crime syndicates patrolled the planet and you should’ve known better. The Mandalorian had put his trust in you, but you had failed him. "Din…” your voice was small and meek, almost shying away from him. “None of that has happened to me. I'm safe. I'm here. With you."

Din sunk back into his pilot chair and breathed a sigh of relief at your words. You were right. You were safe, and that's all that mattered. And Din was more than happy to take rest on Nevarro for a day or so before getting back on the move. He knew the return of this warlord would earn him enough credits that he could justify a day off.

From such a young and tender age, Din had lost everything. He never spoke of his parents; only once, and the discussion was very brief. You didn’t think it was appropriate to ask questions although your curiosity always peaked when it came to Din and his past. Nevertheless, he knew he valued family and his Creed more than anything else in the world. And his love for the child was immeasurable. To serve as a reminder, and hopefully provide him comfort, you were struck with an idea.

You got out of your chair and sauntered back to the ship, picking up the sleeping child from his cot and cradling him in your arms. You brought him back to the cockpit and watched the foundling as he stirred slightly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Still asleep, he cooed quietly, and an air of satisfaction relished over you knowing that he wasn’t injured.

"What are you doing?" Din asked.

"What is that thing you always say?" you asked, cupping your hand gently around the child's face. "Aliit…"

"Aliit ori'shya tal'din," Din whispered, extending his arm and pulling you onto his lap. He draped his strong arms around your waist and peeked over your shoulder at the sleeping child. "Family is more than blood." he translated.

You rest your head in the crook of Din's neck, feeling a slight warmth radiate from under his beskar. You let your fingers trace the signet on his shoulder. "Clan of three." You smiled.

"Cyar'ika," Din hummed, taking in your scent and enjoying the close proximity of you sat on his lap holding his son. "Please, promise me you'll never do anything as stupid as that ever again."

"I promise Din." you shuffled around, just a little, but enough to be able to face Din.

The Mandalorian leaned his forehead against you, the coldness of his helmet making you shiver. He pressed a keldable kiss into your skin. "Clan of three." he confirmed, voice low and modulated. His grip on your back tightened and in that moment he swore that he would protect you and the child with his life.

[whumpingcrow]

Pt.15 "Torture Abroad"

CW: creepy/intimate whumper, divorce mention, parent death mention, drugs/alcohol mention, foster care, beach setting, noncon/dubcon (explicit, 18+), general NSFW and sexual themes/language, broken bone mention, stockholm syndrome-type themes, self injury mention, bat used as a weapon, injury/gore (explicit), knife mention, taser mention, bondage/chains, torture with a bunch of different weapons, bystander watching torture, hallucinations, fire mention, panic attack, tics/tourettes (let me know if I missed anything!!)

"You're going to love it here," August was saying, one of his hands wrapped lazily around the wheel and the other placed on Elias's thigh, "I'm gonna show you so many beautiful places."

Elias was looking out the window at all the deep green trees and lush scenery, in utter disbelief that he was actually here. "You're really from here?"

"Yeah, after my parents got divorced my mom took me to America. I come back all the time though." He turned and smiled at Elias, squeezing his thigh gently. "Beautiful, isn't it? I'll have to teach you some French."

Elias nodded in agreement at the suggestion. "I cannot believe I'm in France." With literal Satan, he thought, then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The car was nice, a deep red that Elias thought fit August well enough. It was something fancy and foreign, and August had laughed at his surprised face when he walked right up to it in the parking garage of the airport. At first, Elias thought he was going to steal it, but then August had the keys in his hand and inside of the car was a wallet that had one of his older licenses in it. Elias noticed that he drove it with ease, like it was where he belonged, behind the expensive leather wheel, driving much quicker than he probably should be on the winding roads. For a moment, he found himself thinking about how attractive it was, and the realization made him incredibly ashamed in himself, so embarrassed and disgusted that he felt physically sick at it.

They drove for awhile longer, then they arrived at a huge house on the side of a hill, overlooking a beach. When Elias stepped out of the car the chill breeze swept through his clothes and hair, and he took a deep breath. It was beautiful, and he guessed that if he had to be anywhere with August, it may as well be here.

He jumped as August grabbed him from behind, looping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. He placed gentle kisses against his neck, humming with content. "I'm so happy you're here, angel."

Elias sighed and tipped his head back against August's shoulder. "It's so pretty," he breathed, "just... breathtaking."

August chuckled and pulled off of him. "Come on, we'll go sight seeing later," he teased, taking his hand and pulling him down the drive to the house.

It was even more beautiful on the inside; there were large, open windows that the sunlight danced through and soaked over everything it landed on, intricate designs carved and painted on the ceiling and walls, and huge, exquisite paintings that were probably more expensive than everything Elias owned combined.

"This is your house?" He asked August, who was already making himself busy opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen. Elias could see from his spot in the middle of the living room that the kitchen was just as glamorous.

"It was my father's, yeah. He left it to my sister and I after he died. Maybe you'll get to meet her, if she comes around." His voice was lightly conversational, like he was talking about the weather and not his dead dad, but really Elias would have been more surprised if he'd let any emotion into the sentence.

Elias took the wine glass as it was handed to him, looking down at the dark red with his lip caught in his teeth. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, cueing August to frown at him. "What is it?" He asked.

"It's just... I dunno, my whole life I was just tossed around foster homes and group homes and this...this is something I never would have thought would happen." He laughed again, shaking his head. "I mean, I'm drinking wine in France. It's just weird."

August nodded his head, looking thoughtful before finally saying, "I didn't know you were a foster kid."

Elias shook his head, instantly wanting to change the subject. August had seen him crying, begging, screaming, bleeding, August had seen him dead, but talking about his past with him seemed way more vulnerable than all of that. He didn't want August to know about his selfish parents who decided that they loved drugs more than they loved their twitchy son, he didn't want him to know that Elias didn't have any friends until he was in high school because he moved foster homes and schools faster than he could blink, he really didn't want him to know about the way he used to stay up late trying to find his parents online so he could try and contact them, try to convince them to take him back, and cry when he couldn't find them. August had control over him in so many ways, and Elias was going to make sure that touchy, personal information was kept that way. August would never know him that intimately, if he could help it.

He tasted the wine, trying to stay in the moment. He focused on the lush fruitiness of the drink instead of the looming fear of being alone with August. He focused on the way the light illuminated some of the dust floating around the room instead of the despair he felt about being away from Tyson.

"Do you wanna walk down to the beach?" August asked him, stepping closer to him as he spoke. "It'll be dark soon, we can watch the sun set."

Elias smiled at him, drinking some more wine. He wished it was something stronger, being sober around August was just so unbearably frightening. "I never would've pegged you as a romantic," he chuckled, "this wine must be strong, huh?"

August shook his head, taking Elias's wine glass from him and setting them both down on the side table next to the couch. "I've just been too stressed out to be romantic." He looked Elias up and down with a grin, then scooped him up into his arms, laughing at the astonished squeal he let out.

He carried him out of the house and down a short walkway to the beach, setting him gently in the sand once they were close to the water. After Elias straightened himself out, he stared up at August with wide eyes. He looked like he was waiting for something, expecting something, and when August took his hand in his own he flinched a little.

"Why do you look so bothered, bunny?" He asked, stepping closer and running his thumb over the back of his hand. He knew, just from touching it, that this was his injured hand, the one he'd broken with a hammer. The tendons and bones hadn't healed right, they felt mangled and torn up when he pressed against them. The way Elias's face twitched at the reawakened pain was absolutely mouthwatering, August tried to imagine the noises he would make if he very slowly broke it all over again.

Elias plastered on a strained smile, looking out toward the waves wistfully. "I'm not used to you being so gentle with me. Trying to uh...to not let myself get so wrapped up in it."

August sighed at the words, trailing his fingers over Elias's cheek, leaning over and kissing him softly. "You're so smart," he cooed, "but don't worry you're pretty self too much, I'll be careful. You're more fragile than I thought."

A trembling breath shook Elias's shoulders, but he knew that if he allowed himself to cry he would be in trouble. So, he pressed himself flush against August and kissed him hard, desperate for something to numb him. He hadn't finished his wine, he hadn't had any drugs in who knows how long, and the only other thing he knew would distract him from the fear for a moment was...handing himself over to the very thing causing it.

At one point they ended up down in the sand, clothes tossed aside carelessly. Elias forgot how great sex could be, when he wasn't being choked or beaten or butchered. He was waiting for August to turn on him any second, for his tender touches to turn to harsh, aggressive punches, or his sweet words to twist into hateful insults. It would happen any second, it was a miracle it hadn't already. He couldn't even believe how much August seemed to be enjoying it so far, Elias wasn't bloody or bruised up or even crying yet.

"Ah, my angel," August hummed, his lips against Elias's neck, "oh God you feel so good."

Elias gasped, arching his back against the sand. He clutched at August's arm hard, whimpering softly. He was baffled when August began to jerk him off; he hardly ever touched him like that towards the end, before things got messy, instead trying to fuck him until he came, until he was shaking and in tears, begging for help, for friction, for something. He moaned out at the touch, writhing just a little underneath him.

"Ah, fuck, August," he breathed, "jesus christ!" August pressed closer against him, kissing gently at his throat, moaning against his skin.

Once August finished, he pulled off of him, and Elias thought that was it. Yet again, left bothered and unfinished. He sighed and tipped his head back, trying to steady himself. It was ok this way, he had gotten through it without any new bruises or cuts, he wasn't hurt, he could deal with blue balls. But then, August was kissing down his torso, over his hips, on the insides of his thighs. When he started to suck him off, Elias whined loudly and reached down to tangle his fingers in his hair. He could feel August's hands holding him steady, those strong, rough hands that were hovering on the edge of being gentle and inflicting pain on him. It would happen any second now, this time Elias was sure, with how his fingers were tight around his hips.

"Au-August!" He moaned, writhing underneath his grip. He hated hearing himself moaning that name, hated that he was receiving pleasure from someone who he wanted to hate so badly, someone who had hurt him and the people he cared about. Once again, he was repulsed by himself, and he would have pushed August off of him if he wasn't right about to-

He gasped sharply as he came, shaking in August's hands. His breathing was labored as he relaxed, looking up at August as he crawled back on top of him. He felt tears in his eyes, that heavy guilt and disgust in himself weighing him down, pressing him into the sand harder than August was. August took his face in his hands, running his thumb over his cheek gently.

"You're so beautiful, bunny," he hummed, "I missed having you all to myself."

Elias frowned, turning his head to the side so he didn't have to look at him anymore. "It's so weird without you." His voice was faraway, and when August pulled away from him he sat up. "No one understood. I was just fucking up all the time and no one would punish me and I just felt...I felt..." He trailed off, shaking his head. What was it that he felt? He was glad to be away from August when he was, right? So what else could he have been feeling besides relief? Why, when he was looking back on it now, did it all seem so shitty and hopeless?

August sighed, petting his hair gently. "That sounds hard, angel. I hate thinking of you all alone, so lost."

"I had to hurt myself," Elias whispered, "no one else would so I had to do it myself."

August fell silent, then he pulled away and looked at Elias for a long time. The look on his face was undecipherable, Elias couldn't tell if he was disappointed or delighted at what he told him, and he only grew more confused when he let out a short laugh and stood up.

"Come on, little one. Get your clothes on." As he spoke, he pulled his own sand covered pants back on, and Elias got up and did the same. August took his hand and led him back up to the house, now eerily silent.

Once they were inside, August sat Elias down on the couch, wordlessly walking down the hallway. Elias was overwhelmed by his sudden quietness, August always had something to say about everything, and Elias hated not knowing what he was thinking about. It was the same as when Elias told him what happened to his face in the car, the deafening silence that made him feel like any minute August would flip out and just start screaming. As he waited for August to come back and do just that, he grabbed the glass of wine that was taken from him earlier and downed the rest of it.

"Come here, Eli!" August was suddenly calling. Elias stood up with a groan, shuffling down the long hallway. He peered into the rooms he walked past, frowning when he didn't see August in any of them.

"Where are you?" He heard the sound of floorboards creaking distantly, but the all the rooms were too big to really distinguish where the noise came from. When he thought he heard some shuffling in one of the rooms, he ducked into it and looked around, sighing when he was met with silence and an empty room. "August?" He whined.

He cried out when something solid slammed into the back of legs, making him crumple to the ground with a thud. He turned to see August standing over him, a wooden bat swinging carelessly in his hand. Elias scrambled away from him, eyes huge and already full of tears.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" He cried. August stayed silent still, and Elias grew even more panicked as he got closer. He just wanted August to say something, anything at all, so that at least he wasn't as confused. The bat swung again, this time cracking against his shoulder. Elias screamed in pain as he hit the floor, his body lit up in a blinding ache. August dropped the bat soon after, then yanked Elias up to his feet.

When Elias couldn't stand and collapsed against him with a sob, August merely grabbed a fist full of his hair and forced him to stand straight. He couldn't stifle his sobs, they weren't even his own at this point, his pain and fear were ripping them out of him violently. "Ple-please stop!" His legs were weak and battered, but every time he wobbled and nearly fell again, August's hand tightened and twisted harshly in his hair and he forced himself to straighten out again.

August dragged him out of the bedroom and down the hallway, not waiting for him when he stumbled and tripped. As they approached a flight of stairs, Elias's panic grew further. He couldn't even walk right as it was, how was he supposed to conquer stairs?

As it turned out, though, he didn't have to try to wobble down them, because once they got to the top, August unceremoniously shoved him down the hard steps.

He landed hard at the bottom, breathless and dazed from the pain. He choked on broken gasps, his chest tight from not being able to breathe. When he heard August's steps coming down the stairs he let out a hushed whine of fear.

"That looked painful," he remarked, crouching down to inspect his face, "I thought you'd catch yourself."

Elias finally gasped in a breath, groaning in between coughs. August hoisted him up again, giving him more support since he really couldn't stand on his own this time. "Ah fuck," he sniffled, dropping his head toward his chest, "ow..."

After a few more steps, Elias's arm was yanked up above his head, earning an agonized howl. He felt cold metal wrapping around his wrist, snapping shut. When he looked up, his arm was raised above his head by a chain bolted into the ceiling. As he stared at it in horror, August secured his other arm as well, then let go of him completely.

Elias's shoulders and wrists were screaming, he couldn't stand on his own, and without August he was left drooped over, dangling by the chains. He began to rethink everything that happened before that moment, trying to figure out what he did wrong to warrant this painful and humiliating punishment. Had he spoken out of turn? Was it because of his behavior on the plane? Or because he had almost refused to come with August? He started to cry again, quiet whimpers now in replacement of his loud, panicked sobs from moments ago. When he ticced, a whole new pain coursed through his body.

"I'm s-so fucking sor...sorry!" He choked out, looking up at August as he cried. "Please August, please, I'm sorry!"

August grinned at him, at his desperate begging, at how ruined he looked, slumped over under the chains. "You're so gorgeous, Eli," he praised, turning away from him and beginning to dig through a bag against the wall. He pulled out a large camera, and Elias let out another hopeless sob. "You're so much prettier than Allen, you know that?" Elias didn't know why he would say that, he didn't care about Allen or how pretty Allen was or which one of them August liked more, he couldn't care about anything stupid like that, not when his world was painted bright red with suffering. He snapped a picture, and Elias flinched at the flash, just as he always did. "Stay still, bunny."

Elias did as he was told, hoping if he pleased August enough he could be let down. The flash went off a few more times, and as August lowered the camera, Elias collapsed in on himself with a quiet, agonized whimper. "Please Aug-August, it hu-hurts so bad..."

August began to dig through his bag again, and Elias screwed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. His shoulder, the one that took the blow from the bat, was on fire now, his fingertips numb. When he felt August's palm against his waist, he relaxed a fraction. It was over, he told himself, August was going to let him down and comfort him now. But then something cold was pressed against his ribcage, and just as he opened his eyes to see what it was, a burning pain jolted through his entire body. He convulsed at the shock, his teeth hurting from how hard he bit down. It seemed to last for hours, and when it finally stopped he collapsed further, now exhausted and in an insurmountable degree of pain. It couldn't get worse than this, and if it did Elias thought he just might die.

"Oh, you're so quiet now, little one," August sighed, grabbing his face and forcing him to look up. Elias caught sight of a small handheld taser in his other hand. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Elias sobbed, nodding feebly. "No m-more."

August smiled at him, then tased him once again. This time, Elias let out a guttural, agonized scream, writhing against the chains. This time it went on for so long that when it stopped, Elias passed out, only held up by the chains. When he came to, he looked up at August with tear stained cheeks and hopeless eyes. He wasn't begging anymore, couldn't get the words out, but the look on his face was just as good. August could have stared at him for hours, for days, if he kept making that face. He would give up food and water and oxygen and sunlight if it meant he could stay down here in the basement with Elias and just look at him forever, observe every inch of his body and how it reacted to the pain, memorize all the different ways he could scream and beg, taste his tears and see if there was a difference in the ones from torture and fear. He wanted to know Elias, inside and out, in all the most vulnerable ways, in ways that no human should ever know another.

But he couldn't do that, he had plans. That would have to wait. And besides, they had all the time in the world now, with no one knowing where to look for them.

"I've gotta run to the store, ok?" He said, his voice teasing. "You wait here and be good, and I'll let you out when I get back." He ruffled Elias's hair, watching his face sink further into despair.

"No, please! God please let me down it hurts!" He tugged against the chains, panic ripping through every muscle as he thrashed against his restraints. It was useless, August was already walking away, ignoring his pleading.

It felt like he was gone for hours, and Elias had a headache from the stress and how much he was crying. He was so exhausted, the pain was so intense he couldn't think straight, it was all a jumbled mess blurred together by the delirium of his injuries. Every now and then he forgot where he was, had to lift up his head, which felt like it was made of lead, and then remind himself that he had somehow found himself in a basement in France. Of course it would end up like this for him. Of course he would finally leave the country and go somewhere nice just to end up chained up in a basement.

When he finally heard footsteps on the stairs, he began tugging at the chains again, eager to get out before he even saw August. He didn't notice the other voice until August was at the bottom of the steps, a stranger at his side. Elias froze in confusion for a moment, then the insane aching all over his body pushed past that and he pulled at the chains again.

"August p-p-please let me down please I can't ta-take it anymore!" His gut twisted when August and the man laughed at him, and he had to try really, really hard to not start crying again.

"You look tired, angel," August teased, then turned to the other man, "je pense qu'il très fatigue." (I think he's really tired.)

The man nodded along with him, looking him up and down in curiosity. "Oui, mais il est beaux. Oh, regarde sa précieuse petite tête." (Yes, but he is beautiful. Oh, look at his precious little head.)

Elias let out an agitated sob, going weak at the hopelessness. He didn't know what they were saying, just that they sounded like they were talking about an animal they were discussing purchasing. August stepped forward. Elias noticed he smelled like booze, then he noticed his lopsided smile matched the one the man behind him was wearing. They were both drunk, and that meant Elias was undeniably fucked. August ran his hand through Elias's hair, pleased at the broken cries it caused. "Exhaustion looks so good on you, Eli." With that, he turned away and grabbed his bag, the same one he'd been hiding his camera and taser in, the same one Elias had kept wondering what other torture devices where hidden in while August was gone, prompting Elias to scream again.

"No! No more, please, please August!"

His begging was futile, August closed in on him quickly with a huge butcher knife, sliding it teasingly against Elias's chest before actually using it. When he started slicing into him, it seemed rather reckless and Elias was horrified he was going to do something irreversible to him. After he got bored of the knife, he sauntered back to the bag to look for another instrument.

Elias was covered in blood already, and he realized that his legs were completely useless by now, the chains in the ceiling were the only reason he was upright. He heard August say something in French again, and when he looked up to try and be as much apart of their conversation as he could, he saw that the stranger he had brought down with him had his phone held up, recording all of it with a satisfied grin on his face.

August used a belt, next, causing Elias to positively shriek in pain every time it made harsh contact with his already cut up body. Every now and then, he would stop what he was doing and step close to Elias, whispering so that only he could hear him, saying "you're so perfect like this, my love," or "you have no idea what it does to me when you scream like that, bunny" and it made Elias want to throw up.

He must've used everything in his bag on Elias. He'd hit him with the belt, cut him with a knife, shocked him, beat him with brass knuckles, burned him with a torch, and those were only the ones that Elias was present enough to understand what was being done to him. After all of that, he got lost in the waves of pain and the sounds of his own screams and begs, and then he was unaware of whatever tool August was using to cause it all.

They left the room without a word, or maybe they did say something and he was just too drunk on the pain to notice, when they were done, leaving Elias alone and trembling and lightheaded. His body felt fuzzy and disconnected from him, but the pain was still all too real, too intense. A flash of light caught his eye from the side, and it was nearly impossible to lift his head enough to see what it was. His vision was swimming at the movement, it made him instantly nauseous, and he had to squint really hard to be able to see clearly. When he was able to focus, he was even more confused. Was it...a fire? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the tiny flame started to grow bigger, slithering up the wall on the other side of the basement. Elias wasn't sure of the when or why or how the fire started, all he knew was that it was getting bigger so fast and he was chained up and couldn't move and he was going to be burned alive.

"August!" He tried to scream, his voice so strained and broken up that it was hardly audible. He doubted that August heard him, and then he was even more horrified. The fire was getting closer and he couldn't even call for help, there was nothing he could do. Then he wondered if August had done this on purpose. It made sense, he had chained him up and hurt him so bad that he couldn't move even if he wasn't chained up, made him scream so loud that no one could hear his cries for help, then he lit a fire so he could kill him. It was a well orchestrated plan, Elias had to give him that, and he never even saw it coming.

What he did see coming, though, was the fire, now climbing up the ceiling and creeping across the floor toward him. As much as he could in his broken state, he scrambled back toward the wall, the chains rattling uselessly above him. He was going to die, he was going to die and there was no saving him this time.

He was surprised when he heard himself scream another time, he must've been so scared he forced his shredded vocal chords to work for a moment. "August please help me!!" He shrieked, closing his eyes tight so he wouldn't see the flames that would engulf him any second.

When he felt hands on him, he let out a measly, horrified squeak, cowering away from it, thinking it was the flames he was so horrified of. "Elias what is wrong with you? Why are you screaming?" That was August, talking to him now. But why was August here if he was trying to kill him? And why was he asking him why he was screaming?

When he worked up the courage to open his eyes, the fire was gone, August was standing in front of him. Elias gasped a few times, he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "The...August..." He sobbed as August began to take the chains off. "There was a f-fire. A hu...huge fire, in the corner." He collapsed right against August's chest as soon as the chains were off, felt his arms wrap around his ruined body to catch him before he fell right to the floor.

August lowered him to the floor, then pulled away and pushed his hair out of his face to inspect him further. He was frowning as he looked into Elias's panicked eyes. "Oh, you poor thing, you're hallucinating," he spoke like he was talking to a child with scraped knees, "there's no fire, angel. It's all ok, you're ok."

Elias looked around the basement again, there was no fire, no burn marks anywhere. "B...But I saw it." Thanks to the final scream he'd let out, his voice was just barely above a hoarse whisper. "I saw it, August."

August sighed heavily, then he stood and hoisted up and over his shoulder. Elias whimpered at the harsh movement, but he didn't mind the pain so much when he realized that August was taking him back upstairs. He was so relieved when he realized that going upstairs meant that the punishment was over, that he wasn't going to be engulfed by flames or simply left to dangle under the chains all night. It was over, he told himself. He counted to ten, it was over. He was set down gently on the couch, it was over. August was speaking to him, but he wasn't listening because it was over, and that was all that mattered.

[benedictscanvas]

just you and i - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: this is a fluff fest without reprieve - read at own risk

A/N: I cannot stop writing fluff, I swear. Sorry all y’all angst lovers, but it just isn’t my scene. Here’s a super self-indulgent wedding fic since I’m not feeling my best and wanted to imagine a wedding with Spence where not everything goes to plan - in the best way. Enjoy loves! :)

---

It wasn’t that you were panicking. Not as such. You’d wanted to marry Spencer for a very long time, had been waiting for this moment for longer than you ever hoped you would have to because your jobs had postponed your own wedding no less than four times. But now, as you sat in your wedding dress alone and looked out the window, watching people arrive just hours from the big moment, your heart rate spiked.

It turned out there was a lot of people that you didn’t even know you’d invited that were showing up to celebrate. It was sweet of them to come...but it was also completely ridiculous and overwhelming when you had no idea so many people would be here.

Curse you for leaving most of your wedding planning to other people.

Your bridesmaids had left you to some alone time, Emily suggesting that it might be nice for you to have a moment alone to take in the magic of the day. It had been a sweet thought at the time, but now you were beginning to rethink it.

Without much thought, you dialled your favourite number and waited.

“Is everything alright?”

He answered on the first ring and sounded just as flustered as you felt. You supposed it wasn’t exactly normal to call your future husband on the morning of your wedding.

“Of course, sorry Spence, everything’s fine,” you breathed, quick to reassure him, and you heard his breath of relief with a twinge of guilt, “I- well I just-”

He heard the tone in your voice as clear as anything.

“I’m coming to find you.”

His voice was hushed, and you warranted that Derek was probably with him. He hung up quickly and you put the phone down, wondering whether this was a good idea. But you’d never been one for superstition and you knew that you were going to spend the rest of your life with the man you loved whether everything went well today or not.

Before you knew it, there was a knock on your door. He was only down the hall of the hotel after all. When you opened the door, you saw him with his hand over his eyes and you grinned, pulling him into your room before any of your bridesmaids could see and reprimand the two of you.

“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he said worriedly, still clamping his hand tightly over his eyes. You laughed, slowly pulling his hand away from his face and letting it fall limp by his side. His eyes were still screwed shut.

“Spencer,” you murmured softly, watching him with a smile that was as fond as it could be. He looked so pretty, “Would you please open your eyes for me? I’ve already looked at you and, damn I’m glad I have.”

He was grinning, just like you’d wanted.

“That’s not the superstition, the whole point is that the groom isn’t supposed to-“

“Baby,” you muttered, taking his face in your hands with all the tenderness you held for him, “Please?”

He opens his eyes and now he looks infinitely more pretty than he did before. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you with a love you never truly believed you’d find and winds his arms gently around your waist.

“You look beautiful, angel,” he whispers, only for you, his voice choked. You try to hold back your own tears as you kiss him, pulling him into you with fervour. When you pull away, you keep him close, temples pressed together as his lips graze your ear. You shiver.

“Why are we having a wedding, Spence?”

That probably came out wrong. His closeness is gone quickly and it’s all you can do not to clamp him back to your chest again. His eyes are wide and the fear within them is plain as day.

“What?”

“Oh god, sorry, that’s not how I meant that to come out...at all,” you struggled for the words, feeling all your earlier anxieties piling on top of you again, “I want to marry you more than anything in this world Spence, you know that, but why did we agree to have a wedding? And such a big one too!”

He was relaxed again, thank goodness. You decided you really needed to stop scaring him shitless on what was guaranteed to be the best day of your shared lives.

He considers your question properly before he answers. It seems he comes to the same conclusion that you do.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think we got swept up in what everyone else wanted.”

“Right?” you agreed, “It’s like just because we have busy jobs means that we basically went along with what everyone suggested. We were so stupid!”

“So stupid!”

He laughed and you joined him in it. This was what you wanted for your wedding. Just you and Spencer. Simple. It was what you wanted for the entirety of your marriage.

“You know what I would’ve been happy with?” you ask, a playful smile on your face that he just can’t resist as you reach for him again, winding your arms up and around his neck while his encircle your waist with all the warmth in the world.

“What’s that?”

“You. Me. The conference room. Couple of strings of fairy lights.”

“That’s it?” he asked, still with that smile on his face that was formed of awe. Awe that all you really wanted was him, that all he really wanted was you. He would never get over it.

“And cake, of course, I’m not a monster,” you said with a giggle as you let your forehead fall forward onto his chest, “I just want to be your wife, Spence, and I didn’t imagine doing it with the entirety of Penelope’s contact list out there.”

“Did you see Kevin arrive?”

“Kevin’s here?” you asked indignantly, then with a sigh, “I’ve spoken to him twice in my life, I’m pretty sure.”

“Three times,” Spencer says, because of course he remembers and you swat him gently for correcting you, even though he knows you love it, “He’s even got a plus one.”

You buried your head as far into Spencer’s chest as you could manage with a loud grumble. He laughed at you softly before pressing a placating kiss to the top of your head, and another for good measure. Another just because he wanted to.

“You know who else is here?” you asked, picking your head up to look at him again (you missed his face), “That woman from the case in Dallas. You know, the one that Penny liked and jokingly invited to our wedding over the phone?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I watched her walk in a few minutes ago….with a plus one.”

“No way,” Spencer breathed and you nodded pointedly. You loved gossiping back and forth with him like this. It made you forget where you were, what you were wearing, how itchy the back of your dress was, “How many plus ones did Garcia give out?”

“By the looks of it, everyone got one. The plus ones have their own plus one for fuck’s sake!”

There was a pause as Spencer smiled at your outburst, until you were smiling back at him and soon you were kissing all over again. It didn’t take much. Your hands are in his hair, rooting themselves in the strands, as his splay themselves across your back and leave goosebumps in their wake. Every nerve ending is on fire and suddenly you know exactly what you’re going to do next.

You pull away from his suddenly, despite his silent protest as one hand comes up to cup your cheek and bring you back to him, eyes still closed. You stay firm, plant your hand on his chest until he opens his eyes to look at you. He still looks like he just wants to kiss you senseless.

“I have an idea,” you propose slowly, running your hand up his chest, to his neck and back down again, “Feel free to shut me down, though.”

He tilted his head, a grin worming its way onto his features.

“Shut you down? Never.”

---

You’d gathered up the team with whispered voices and hurried gestures. Sneaking around corners and insistent shushing when they tried to argue with you. Eventually, you had everyone gathered in one of the rooms of the hotel, a few floors above where you were set to get married.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Derek hissed at you, when you and Spencer stood in front of them all, hand in hand, just grinning, “You’re getting married in-” he checked his watch, “-just under 2 hours. Unless you’ve called it off?”

He only said it to rile you up but it worked. You grabbed hold of Spencer’s arm with your other hand and snuggled up to his side as you glared at Derek.

“Of course we haven’t, idiot,” you glowered, which only made him chuckle, “But we’re not getting married here.”

Penelope looked like she might be about to faint.

“What?!”

“I’m so sorry Pen,” you said sympathetically, “You’ve done such an amazing job with everything but...it’s not us, you know? There’s so many people here!”

“Yeah, all your friends!”

“The woman from Dallas?” you asked and she pressed her lips together.

“Okay, fair,” she said quickly, “But I just wanted two of my favourite people to have the best day ever full of the very best people ever!”

“And we will,” you insisted with a smile, “But just, not quite yet. We’ve got a plan first.”

“A plan?” Dave asked, looking exasperated, “You’ve not cared about the details of this wedding for months, but now you have a plan?”

You and Spencer looked at each other. Grinned.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Spencer said, breathless.

There was a collective groan from the whole team.

---

By the time Emily and JJ had been sent into the venue to retrieve every spare string of fairy lights they could, Derek and Hotch had hung them between the trees and Rossi had come around to the fact that he’d be delivering the wedding outside rather than inside, everything was perfect. Any sense of panic had vanished. You’d kissed Spencer goodbye half an hour ago, and now you were stood arm in arm with Hotch a little way from the clearing you’d found in the woods.

There were woods right next to your venue, it seemed. How perfect. And just out of view of all the guests that were now waiting impatiently. Despite how many horrible things you’d all seen happen in woodland areas over the years, it didn’t matter now. These woods were pristine and new and about to become yours forever.

“Ready?” Hotch asked you quietly, nudging you out of your trance. You beamed at him.

“You know how long I’ve been ready for this,” you chuckled, emotional already.

He had tears in his eyes too. The softie.

“Then let’s do this.”

You walked until you were in the makeshift aisle. And everyone who needed to be there, was there. Particularly? Spencer.

Right there at the end of the aisle. In the tuxedo you’d already seen him in, but with new tears in his eyes and a watery smile. You laughed despite yourself, already crying. You swore you wouldn’t. He laughed too. You even made a joke about pulling Hotch along with you, desperate to get to the end of the aisle, to which everyone laughed, JJ through some pretty loud sobs. You’d never have made that joke if this wasn’t just family.

An eternity later, you were facing Spencer, hands held tightly in his. Both crying. Everyone was now. Rossi had to compose himself before beginning his speech. You hardly heard it. You were looking at Spencer. All you wanted to do was look at him forever and ever.

Rossi hurried through everything he was going to say. He’d been promised he could do it properly when you made it to the actual ceremony, which you were still going to do, because you couldn’t fathom telling everyone in that hall that you wouldn’t be attending your own wedding because you’d rather not have all of them present for it.

When it came to the vows, you decided to come up with some on the spot, just for this little special version of your wedding. You could do the regular vows later. This mattered now.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, to use your full title,” you giggled as everyone laughed, and Spencer squeezed your hands with an elated grin. He still hadn’t stopped crying, “I didn’t know there was a feeling like this until you walked into my life. You quickly became my entire world, before we even started dating. I just adore you. All of you, every bit. I can’t wait to- to do the whole of life with you. I-I love you so much.”

The awkward phrasing of your last sentence was mostly due to the fact that you were quickly breaking down. Spencer was crying at your words, right there in front of you, so how were you supposed to do anything but cry with him. He wiped your tears with gentle, trembling hands.

“I love you so much,” he said shakily, clearing his throat to carry on, “There was a time, as you all know, when I definitely thought I was just one of those people who ends up alone.”

You sniffled at that, because it was one of the least favourite things that he tells you about sometimes.

“Spence,” you whispered, smiling sadly at him and he shook his head with a smile.

“What I’m trying to say, is that my world was black before you came into it. But none of that matters now. All that really matters is that this is actually happening, with our family around us, and the rest of our lives ahead. Having a soulmate, in the traditional sense, is a ridiculous thing to claim, but it’s ridiculous to me that someone like you truly and unconditionally loves someone like me, so maybe we all need a bit of ridiculous. You’re my soulmate, Y/N. I love you more than anything. Our life together will be…”

It was him who was choked up now, unable to finish his sentence. You could still hear JJ sobbing in the background, but now she was joined by Penny and Derek. Derek was a mess. Hotch was doing better, but only marginally.

“Perfect,” you muttered, taking his face in your hands, “Our life will be perfect.”

He swooped in quickly, tears still fresh on his cheeks, lips on yours and hands on your hips before you could register it. You pulled away quickly and shook your head at him with a laugh.

“Not yet Spence!” you cried, laughing along with Rossi beside you who could barely contain himself.

He looked a little put out. His hands were itching to grab you.

“Sorry,” he muttered lowly, like a scolded child and you placed your hand on his face to remind him. Just a few moments, my love.

It didn’t take long, but it felt like you were waiting a lifetime for Rossi to tell Spencer to kiss you, finally kiss you. He was worth the wait. Worth every wait. His arms tightening around you, he managed to lift you from the floor despite the weight of your dress, and you giggled against his lips.

“Wife,” Spencer mumbled. Breathless. Wonderfully breathless. You found your breath had left you too, especially when he said the word. You were his wife now.

“Husband,” you chuckled as he put you down gently and you tuned back into the world around you, the cheers and hollers from your BAU family, the now familiar sound of sobbing mixed with joyful laughter. You held Spencer’s hand as you turned to face them with watery smiles. Squeezed it in your own and received a tight squeeze in return.

This was what you wanted. Simple. Just you and Spencer. Forever.

(you eventually made it to your actual wedding, and did the ceremony all over again in front of everyone, even though you were already married. an extra secret between your family, and an extra moment too. you didn’t always get a lot of moments)

(besides, why marry the love of your life once when you could marry them twice?)

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Superstar | Julie Molina

JATP x BTR crossover week, Day 4: Elevate

Song used: Superstar - Big Time Rush | Also a tiny bit of This Is Gospel (piano version) - Panic! At The Disco 

Pairing: Julie x reader

Summary: For a psychology project, the students have to shadow someone completely opposite from their own personality to notice difference, similarities and other things they notice. Julie knows exactly who she’d want to pair up for this. Though it doesn’t quite go the way she thought it would. 

A/N: Thanks @jatp-btr​, @meangirlsx​ and @darlingsteveharrington​ for this amazing idea! Honored to be a part of this! 

Warnings: Mention of abusive parents

Words:  5,107

Fire and ice. Good and bad. Dark and light. Hot and cold. Black and white. 

All polar opposites. All words that perfectly describe Julie and y/n. Which is exactly why Julie immediately looked at the girl with the smokey makeup and all-black outfit when their psychology teacher told them to pair up with someone that wasn’t anything like yourself. 

While Julie is all light and fluttery like a butterfly, y/n is dark and sturdy like a castle. But Julie knew that even castles can have the most beautiful interiors even if their exterior seems nothing but stone and impenetrable.

Y/N started packing up her stuff at the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of class when she felt a presence in front of her. Slowly, she looked up from her bookbag where she’d just stuffed a binder into and her eyes landed on the overly sweet Latina girl the entire school knew as Julie, from Julie and The Phantoms. She was a celebrity at Los Feliz High School, though y/n didn’t really care about that. It wasn’t quite her scene. 

“What are you looking at me for?” she asked, her tone annoyed at the preppiness of the widely smiling girl. 

“I think we should do the project together for miss Silburn.” 

Y/N let out a loud cackle as she stood up from her chair, shouldering her black bookbag. “Good one, Angel Face.” Y/N moved to navigate past Julie, but the persistent girl mirrored  her movements, blocking the way. “You’re kidding,” y/n deadpanned. 

“I am not. I think it would be super interesting to do this project together, we’re the complete opposite of one another! I think we could learn something from this!” Julie was way too chipper for a first period, which was indication enough for y/n to know that it would indeed be an interesting project to do together. But y/n wouldn’t be y/n if she let this girl waltz all over her. She had to put up a fight, even if she knew she was going to lose. 

“Yeah, I’m learning that you’re annoying and are gonna make me late for PE.” She pushed past Julie, but the girl didn’t give up. 

Julie crossed her arms over her chest. “I know for a fact you don’t go to PE.” Y/N stopped in her tracks in the doorway. “You suffer from migraines and thus don’t participate in PE because the physical activity triggers them.” A silence fell for a few heartbeats, five, to be exact. Y/N counted them until the loud, thumping heartbeats in her chest were drowned out by the girl’s voice. “If I can find out this information from just a few sources, imagine what else I can uncover. I’m gonna do this project about you, y/n, with or without your help. So, take your pick.” 

Y/N whirled around to face the Latina girl again, her head tilted to the right ever so slightly as her eyebrows pinched together. “Why?” she asked and crossed her arms in hopes to come off as more intimidating, though it didn’t seem to phase Julie too much. 

 Julie shrugged. “Because I find you fascinating. You don’t seem to give a crap about anything, nothing ever phases you. You don’t seem to have very many friends besides Damian, who’s practically glued to your side. Nobody knows anything about you, not even Damian.” 

“Then how do you know about my migraines?” Y/N asked as if all the other words she had spoken didn’t make the tips of her ears go warm. 

“Connie,” Julie replied. Y/N nodded her head at the mention of the principal’s secretary. The woman knew everything about everyone. It was kind of terrifying. “So… Will you do this project with me?” 

Y/N considered her options. It was either not participating and have Julie uncover everything about her or participate and have a say in what goes into the report and what doesn’t. 

She inhaled deeply before finally muttering, “Fine. I’m in. But we start tomorrow.” 

Julie’s face lit up as she nodded her head vigorously. This was too good to be true. Y/N, the mystery no one knew anything about was going to work on a project with her. A very intimate and mentally challenging project. This was about the best thing that had happened to her all day and it was only ten in the morning. 

Julie had decided for the both of them that they’d start with her, so she texted y/n her address to make sure they really started from the first second of the day up until the last. Though none of it was without a whole bunch of whining from y/n as she never spoke to anyone in the mornings. 

But Julie knew exactly what she needed to do to change that. She had to bribe the woman with pastries and a hot mocha. That’s all y/n needed to be ready to go on Julie’s porch at eight in the morning. 

For a whole day, y/n ran behind Julie like a little shadow. She stood back whenever she spoke to any of her friends, not feeling like engaging with strangers, ever. Or at least not until Flynn complimented her black suede jacket and in particular the pin that she’d stuck on it. It was a pin she’d made herself that read “Your ‘everything better plan’, somewhere in Neverland”, one of y/n’s favorite All Time Low lyrics. 

“I love All Time Low!” she said with a wide smile. “Where’d you get that pin?” 

“I made it myself.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah!” 

Conversations normally ended there for y/n. It was enough for people to find her weird or a nerd. Enough for people to suddenly lose all interest in her. But Flynn surprised her when she uttered her next words. 

“Can you make me one?” 

Y/N looked at the big, brown-eyed girl in front of her, then glanced down at her best friend who was looking at y/n with expectant eyes. She knew her coffee order and she knew about migraines, but she did not know about people not furthering conversation after that confession. She did not know all of this was new to her. 

“Uhm, yeah. Sure,” she tried to be as indifferent as she could to try and keep up her persona of being the bad girl of Los Feliz high. Of course being with two angels, the polar opposites of y/n’s own personality, she had to go soft at some point of the day. “Just message me on Instagram or something with your general idea of what you’d like and I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Cool! Thanks!” Flynn beamed. 

The bell rang and the three girls dispersed. One of them heading to drama class, the other two heading down to maths together. Miss Silburn had Connie adapt her students' schedules to match one another’s, so that they could actually spend the entire day together for the project. So, y/n and Julie could just stick by each other’s side for a day. 

Y/N had to admit it was a nice change of pace for once. People smiled at her and said hello, while they would normally avoid all eye contact or they wouldn’t even notice she was in the room as she always sat in the back everywhere. She was happy when the final bell rang and Julie and y/n could head home together. 

“You wanna come and sit into my band rehearsal?” Julie asked as they exited the school building, heading into the cool October air. As the wind picked up, y/n’s long hair swept up, giving her an angel-like glow, almost. Julie had yet to see her in another light other than the broody, black-all-day-all-the-way girl, but even as the wind swept her hair back, Julie could see a sliver of the tranquility that rested on her face. 

Y/N felt Julie’s gaze on her, and to not show the Latina girl the back of her neck heated up, she asked a question instead. “So, I heard your band consists of holograms from Sweden?” 

Julie nodded her head as they walked down the sidewalk into the direction of Julie’s house. “Yep, they are… From Sweden. And holograms.” Y/N raised her eyebrow at the girl before a chuckle tumbled out of her mouth, causing Julie to look up in confusion. 

“You don’t think I believe that, do you?” 

“Uhm…” Julie scratched her temple. Her brown eyes stared up into y/n’s suddenly brighter ones. 

“I see you talking to them in school all the time. I know they’re ghosts. My grandmother used to be into some voodoo shit. She used to try to convince us she saw ‘shadow people’ all around the house all the time and we never believed her. But when I saw your little stunt you pulled a few months back and I could still see them when they weren’t on the stage, I guess I figured gran must’ve been right and she had some sort of gift that she passed onto me.” 

Julie had a tender smile on her face as she listened to every word y/n spoke. She loved how the normally closed-off girl was blossoming like a beautiful flower in spring right in front of her eyes. She would’ve never blurted any of that out to somebody else. 

“I don’t know, sounds kinda lame, I know.” 

“No! No, it doesn’t sound lame. I wonder all the time why I can see them and no one else can…” Julie trailed off a little as her mind went over a thousand questions at the same time. “Do you think I have a gift like yours or your grandma’s?” she finally settled on. 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know enough about that to tell you for sure. And my gran passed away last year, so I can’t ask her either.” 

Julie pressed her lips together and a silence fell over the both of them. For the first time in an entire day, the quiet didn’t feel like a dark looming shadow that hovered over them. This time, it felt comfortable. Like they were wrapped up together in a fuzzy blanket of silence. 

The curly-haired girl broke said comfortable silence when she walked into the garage with y/n in tow, where three boys sat chilling on the sofas. Two of which with an instrument in their lap. “Hey boys!” 

The three boys looked up, all smiles and lit up eyes, glad their friend was home after a long day at school. Until their eyes fell upon the girl behind their friend and their happy faces were replaced with confused, curious faces. 

“Who’s the new girl?” The dark-haired one with the rosy cheeks asked. 

“I’m y/n, Julie and I are working on a psychology project together.” Her answer had the boys’ eyes widen and sputter some exclamations of confusion as they scrambled up from their spots and rushed towards the two girls to investigate a little further. 

“She can see us?” the blondie finally spoke up. He was tall and skinny, a healthy glow on his face. “Jules, why can she see us?” 

Julie and y/n exchanged glances, both trying to withhold their laughter. “We’re not sure.” 

“Yeah, I mean, it might have to do with my grandma being gifted with the paranormal things, but we’re not sure,” the new girl explained, “I saw you guys after you performed that song at the pep-rally.” 

Mister Rosy Cheeks’ eyes widened as he remembered what he’d done that day. “Y-you mean you saw… You saw….” he sputtered in absolute horror. Y/N chuckled and nodded her head, remembering how she saw the guy in the flannel run up the steps and shake his booty, presumably to check if no one could see them anymore. 

“You got moves, bro,” she simply said and held out her fist for a fist bump. 

Without thinking about it twice, Mister Rosy Cheeks pounded his fist against hers, only for his hand to go right through the girl’s. “Oh… right…” the boy muttered and returned to his spot beside the brunette with the beanie. 

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he said and saluted y/n. 

“Alex,” the tall blonde said with a kind smile as his eyes scanned y/n’s entire body as if trying to detect something. 

She ignored it and let her eyes land on Mister Rosy Cheeks. “I’m Reggie.” 

“Let’s get rehearsing, yeah?” Julie suggested, clapping her hands together. All three boys nodded curtly before getting to their usual spots in the garage whilst y/n took a seat on the big couch on the opposite side of the space.

“What song do you want us to play, y/n?” Reggie asked as he plucked a few strings on his bass. The girl raised an eyebrow at the boy. She knew exactly what song she wanted them to play, but for some reason, she felt the need to be defensive over the fact she liked their music. 

“What makes you think I know any of your songs?” she asked. 

Reggie stuttered and incomprehensive sounds tumbled out of his mouth. Luke then took the lead from his buddy. “Let’s just do Finally Free,” he said. Y/N’s mouth curved up on one side as the song she wanted them to play came off Luke’s lips. Either he can see right through her or she’s just so predictable, which is a word no one would use to describe y/n. Ever. 

“That was pretty decent,” y/n half-complimented when they finished their rehearsal. 

Truth be told, she was having a difficult time trying to keep still to the beats Alex was creating on his drums. She’d always had a weakness for the drums. As a kid, she wanted to play the drums, but her parents never let her. Instead, they sent her off to piano lessons instead and though she loved the instrument, she’s always loved the drums a little more. 

“Decent?” Luke exclaimed as he placed his guitar on its stand. “You know you’re talking to the band who opened for Panic! At The Disco at the Orpheum, right?” 

Y/N stared at him, an unimpressed look plastered onto her features. “Do you even know who Panic! is?” This question rendered Luke silent. “That’s what I thought.” 

Y/N got up and made a beeline to the grand piano. As she took a seat on the stool behind it, intrigue peaked within the band and they gathered around the piano, leaving their instruments behind. 

Her fingers softly caressed some of the white keys, sending a high-pitched note through the studio before properly placing her fingers and creating a beautiful melody. Soon thereafter, her voice rang out into the space as well, blowing the very talented band in front of her away, especially Julie. She did not expect this girl to be this talented. 

“This is Gospel for the fallen ones Locked away in permanent slumber Assembling their philosophies From pieces of broken memories”

She had her eyes shut the entire time, not daring to even take a peek at the reactions of the small audience in front of her. It had been a while since she even sang in front of her parents, let alone strangers she had met not even an hour prior. 

“The gnashing teeth and criminal tongues Conspire against the odds But they haven't seen the best of us yet”

Finally, she opened her eyes to find Luke resting his head in his hand, his elbow propped up on the piano wing while Reggie and Alex had just dropped their hands on the top. Julie’s eyes were wide as she had her hands wrapped around Alex’s arm and an endeared smile resting comfortably on her lips. 

Y/N smiled before taking her voice up a notch, belting out the chorus.

“If you love me let me go If you love me let me go Cause these words are knives that often leave scars The fear of falling apart And truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart”

Her hands came to a halt and she pressed her lips together, anticipating their reaction. Julie took a sharp breath in while letting go of Alex’s arm. 

“You have the voice of an angel,” Luke whispered as he stood up straight again. 

Both Alex and Reggie nodded their heads in agreement while Julie stayed silent. Y/N braced herself for the girl’s critique, the only critique that really mattered to her right now. They were doing this project together, so y/n wanted to give her something to write about in the report, especially if it was something Julie herself was really good at. 

“You…” Julie whispered. Y/N heart beated in her throat. “You are one big mystery and you keep surprising me.” The girl behind the piano allowed herself to breathe again. She stood up and came out from behind the piano to where the others were. 

“I had to give you something to write about in your essay for psych, right?” she said nonchalantly as if her heart wasn’t beating faster with every glance and smile Julie gave her right now. 

“Right…” Julie mumbled, unable to take her eyes off the girl. 

She grabbed her bookbag from the couch and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna get going. Meet me tomorrow at my place, Julie?” 

The Latina girl didn’t entirely trust her own voice to speak right now, so she just nodded. Y/N waved at the boys, muttering a ‘bye’ before exiting the garage, leaving Julie and her phantoms by themselves. 

All three boys whipped around simultaneously with the exact same expression on their face. 

“What?” Julie asked. 

“Someone has a crush…” Reggie replied, a smirk playing at his lips. 

Julie’s face flushed red. “What? No! We’re just doing a project together.” 

The boys raised their eyebrows. They knew Julie well enough to know when she had a crush. She looked at y/n the same way she used to look at Luke when they were dating a few months back. 

And they were definitely right. Julie was developing a crush on the mysterious girl but she didn’t think y/n would ever feel the same way about her. She didn’t even know if she was queer or not. She knew barely anything about the girl, and still, she felt intrigued by her. She felt like she needed to get to know her better. Especially after having uncovered so much today already. 

Maybe tomorrow would bring more clarity. 

 The next day was pretty similar to the first with Julie following y/n around to her classes instead. Though this time, they sat with Damian at lunch instead of Flynn. And while y/n was a bit more subdued around Flynn, Julie definitely wasn’t around Damian. The two chatted all-things music the entire lunch break long. 

Y/N couldn’t help but admire Julie. She was so easy-going and chatty with everyone, a characteristic y/n wished she possessed. It was a good move of Julie’s to partner up for this project. The differences were immaculate. 

“There’s a party tonight at Carrie’s, wanna go?” Damian asked the two girls, making y/n snap out of her thoughts. 

“Uhm, sure,” she replied, then turned to Julie who gave her a pained expression. “Come on, Molina! You kinda have to for the purpose of the project.” Julie glared at the girl next to her before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Fine. But I’m not gonna drink!” 

“That’s what I always say, but never hold myself to,” y/n muttered and although Julie rolled her eyes, she couldn’t hide the smile that was threatening to spill on her face. 

That night, after a lot of discussion as to why they couldn’t get ready at y/n’s house, Julie agreed to let it happen at her place. She had snacks and drinks at the ready upstairs and her makeup all laid out for them to start working on their faces. 

When the bell rang, Julie sprinted down the stairs to make sure she’d beat her dad or brother, but by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, y/n was already inside with the boys by her side. Julie raised her eyebrows at her band members before letting her eyes land on the girl in their midst.

She was dressed in dark red military pants with a chunky belt and a silver chain hung from the belt loops. A black mesh top covered the top half of her torso, a black crop top underneath it, and just a fragment of her stomach exposed, which revealed the tattoo that decorated her skin. 

“That’s a banging outfit, y/n,” Julie beamed before turning to the boys. “And what are you guys doing here?” 

The boys sputtered, exchanging panicked glances. Neither of them had thought of a well-enough excuse for them to be there besides to see the girls’ crushes on each other blossom. “They’re coming with us,” y/n then said, unaware of the real reason why they were waiting for her on the driveway. 

“Uhm… Okay?” Julie narrowed her eyes at the boys, who all tried to avoid her inspecting gaze. “Let’s go then, y/n. Make me pretty!” She said and added a ‘like you’ in her mind. 

“That won’t be too hard,” y/n muttered before following behind the Latina girl. 

About half an hour later, y/n had finally finished Julie’s makeup look. Though she didn’t need that much at all, her skin was practically flawless and her eyes were too pretty to heavy it up with lots of eyeshadow. So, she simply added some highlighter and a bit of contour, and used only nude tints on her eyelids. To finish off, she added a toned-down winged eyeliner. 

 “There you go!” the makeup artist stated and placed the brush on Julie’s vanity table. The girl opened her eyes and looked into the mirror in front of her. A gasp left her lips as she inspected her entire face. The gleaming highlighter on her cheekbones, the chiseled look the contour gave her, the eye-makeup. All of it looked perfect. And not at all like the no-makeup makeup look Julie normally sported. 

“What can’t you do?” Julie mumbled. 

Y/N giggled at the compliment before starting on her own makeup, hoping to mask the fact that she was blushing like crazy. While she did her makeup, Julie admired her in the mirror. She watched her every move like a hawk. Not because she wanted to see everything y/n was doing, but because she just thought it looked incredibly attractive to watch the girl pour out her art in such a unique way. 

At this moment, Julie saw a completely different version of her. She wasn’t the dark, mysterious girl the school made her out to be. She didn’t even look like the girl in the studio, playing the piano. No, this girl had different levels to her personality and Julie had only been awarded with a few. 

Though she might be the biggest subject of the school’s gossip cliques and she lets herself go wild more than the average teenager in Los Feliz, Julie could see that there was more to her than just that. Y/N was a star, but only Julie could see that. She only let it out around her.  

It had already been an hour past the time the party would commence by the time y/n and Julie rolled up to the Wilson house. Music was thumping through the speakers, the bass palpitating through the floor and the girls’ lungs. It was one of y/n’s favorite feelings in the world. No matter what party she went to, it was always the best way to forget about anything that’s happening at home. 

For the entire night, y/n let herself go with Luke and Reggie quietly by her side. They were dancing beside her, giving her enough space to move freely without having to accidentally run through them. All while Julie stood on the sideline, watching, when Alex poofed in beside her. 

“You still gonna deny you have a crush on her, or?” 

“I’m--” she cut herself off, knowing she can’t fool anyone. “Just look at her, Alex. She acts all mysterious and dark when in reality, she’s the brightest star out there. She’s so talented and so intelligent and kind and not at all what the rocklike exterior makes her out to be. Someone snuffed out that light of hers and it makes me sad, you know?” 

“Then why don’t you tell her that?” 

Julie looked up at her friend, her mouth opening without any words coming out. “I don’t know how to tell her all that?” she finally settled on. 

Alex shrugged. “Sure you do.” Julie’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “What’s the one thing you both have in common?” Her face fell and was exchanged for a bright smile that lit up her entire face as the idea seeped in. 

“You are a genius, Drummer Boy.” 

For the entirety of the week, the two girls spend every waking hour together. They wrote the essay together and spent a lot of time writing a few songs together. But there was one song Julie wrote all by herself and kept away from the prying eyes of y/n and her three boys until it was the right time. 

And the right time was their gig at a local food festival. To say Julie was nervous was a big understatement. After all the gigs they’d done, this one was the most nerve-wracking one out of all of them. Even more nerve-wracking than opening for Panic! at the Orpheum. Only because of the girl that stood in the crowd, awaiting their arrival on the stage. 

“Hi, I’m Julie,” she said into the microphone. The festival quieted down as her soft voice flowed through the air. “From Julie and The Phantoms.” 

Y/N cupped her mouth with her hands and whooped, sending a blush to Julie cheeks as she immediately recognized the voice. With a smile tugging on her lips, she placed her fingers on the right keys. 

“This is a new song of ours, called Superstar.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. She did not know this song. They’d played her the entire set during rehearsal except for this one song. Julie’s eyes landed on y/n with an intense stare. Her friend in the crowd shot her an encouraging smile that told Julie she was there. No matter what. 

“It’s about a girl I know. A girl that shines like the brightest star. A star of which the light was snuffed out. I hope you like it.” Y/N now realized Julie had her eyes on her because the words were directed towards her. Her heart started beating faster while her hands became clammy and her face heated up. 

Julie started playing the synth-like notes on her keyboard and just before she started singing, the boys appeared with her on the stage, playing their instruments. 

“Oh no, it's on tonight Here we go You're looking right, I know you know So go ahead and let it go, go, go, go”

Julie’s eyes locked on y/n’s as she came out from behind her keyboard and made her way towards the middle of the stage. 

“You're shining like a star I wanna be where you are, are Oh no, oh no Let's take over this club You're shining bright in the dark, dark You light up the night”

The boys sang along with her on the chorus and got the crowd to their feet to dance. 

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar That you're a star, that you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

Luke then took over the singing, looking at Julie as he did. She was dancing around the stage, interacting with the others or the crowd. 

“It's time, I love this feeling Can we rewind To the beginning of this crazy night So, baby, we can let it go, go, go Hey-ey-ey”

Julie’s voice chimed through the speakers then, her eyes locking with Luke’s as they did. 

“You're shining like a star I wanna be where you are, are Oh no, oh no Let's take over this club You're shining bright in the dark You light up the night”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside her, mixed with a rush of jealousy. She realized she wanted Julie to look at her the way she was looking at Luke. 

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

The music slowed down as Reggie worked Julie’s keyboard whilst she sang the bridge to y/n. It almost seemed as though the entire crowd vanished and it was just Julie and y/n in there. 

“Forget the moon, ignore the sky 'Cause the whole world is all yours tonight Get it girl, it's your time Shine until the morning light The light The morning light 'Cause you're a star A superstar”

They picked up the pace again and as Julie threw her fist in the air on the high note, y/n mimicked her, a bright smile lighting up her entire face. A smile the neighborhood had never been graced with, but Julie had. 

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar That you're a star, that you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

As the crowd roared and the boys vanished after having taken their bows, Julie rushed off the stage towards y/n, who was already running up to her. They met in the middle of the room, wrapping their arms around one another. 

“That was magical!” y/n whispered as she burried her face into Julie’s soft curls. They smelled of violets and honey, she noticed. 

“I meant every word of it.” 

“You did?” 

Julie pulled away from the hug and let her hands glide down from her shoulders to her hands, intertwining their fingers together as she spoke. “Of course. Y/N, you  are so special and so freaking talented, seriously. I see how you shine on that dancefloor the other night or even when you’re playing the piano. I hate to see you hide all that talent away. I don’t know who snuffed out your light, but what I do know is that you are a superstar that can shine so brightly if only she surrounded herself by the right people, if only she let herself shine.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure what this girl had done to her, but she felt changed. She felt as though she could conquer an entire world. As though she could conquer her abusive parents. She felt like a superstar. 

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​ @wiselight​ @kcd15​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @stars-soph​ @kinda-really-lost​ @notasofti​ @alexpjoyner​ @n0wornever​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @tefilovesreading​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes @pxperphxntom​ @crybabyddl​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​

[vaguely-concerned]

R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)  

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol 

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much 

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

 - I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on) 

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

-

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

 yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy) 

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)  

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

- 

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it. 

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

- 

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

- 

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

- 

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again --  is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

-  honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha   

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’ 

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring 

- 

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even 

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable 

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much) 

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is  e v e r y t h i n g 

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

-

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee 

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees 

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative  

[peakyxtommy]

Love Twice Gone - Michael Gray x Fem!Reader

Summary: Michael & you were together for two years living in New York City. You break up and he messages you out of the blue. You two go back to seeing the other, but life has other plans.

WC: 2.5K

Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Broken-Relationship

A/N: Based Around Sex With My Ex by Fletcher. Flashbacks are italicized.

Gif Credit: @navinee

I know it's been a couple months, yeah, we should meet up

I'll meet you downstairs at the Subway station

We don't gotta talk about us, how we messed it up

We could keep it light, just a conversation

No expectation

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. It’s been three months since he left back to London. You sat in your apartment still wondering if he thought about you. If he wondered what you were doing or if you were with someone new.

Sometimes you could sit on your balcony staring down at the flurry of people wondering about him. Was he safe or happy or if he moved on to someone new? You made little scenarios in your head of what life was like right now. The possibility of what if floating through. Wishing that this relationship hadn’t had to come to an end but the inevitable was you both knew the truth.

Sometimes the truth cuts deep. He tore you in ways you never knew was possible. You were patching up the mess until he messaged you out of the blue one day. Three months after the breakup. You were still bitter and hurt but you still loved him deep down. It was the simplicity of the three words that got you. Got your heart yearning and mind running again with a new lie that you would have to face later than sooner. How you wish it would’ve been sooner.

“I miss you”

The message that began the spiral you were still trying to climb yourself out of. It was three days later on a Friday night you found yourself walking off the same old train and up the familiar subways steps. When you reached the top of the stairs the coldness nipped at your warm skin as you made a right down the street. Walking to your bar, the bar that held too many memories, drunken confessions, and whispered secrets. You see him sitting outside on the bench, with his black beanie. Staring down at his phone but as soon as you cross the street your eyes meet. It feels like the first time all over again.

-

“Oi, you ruined my pants!” He screams as the burning cream liquid soaks his pants and shoes.

“I’m really sorry, but you were standing like a lost dog in the way! Some people have to get to work.” You huff with annoyance as you were running late to work.

“I’m lost, I’m trying to make my way to 34th Wall Street. Sorry to inconvenience you.” He speaks about to brush past you but you grab his arm.

“Wait.” “I work over there. Let me help you at least, I did spill my coffee on you.” He looks at you for a moment before nodding. You remain in silence as the next train approaches and he follows your lead, as you make your way to the first two seats you see in the corner. You let him have the window seat as you sit on the end. You remain silent the whole ride, only to speak to let him know when to get off the train.

“What company do you work for?” You ask as you both walk down the street.

“Shelby Limited Co. We just opened up here and are big in England.”

“Interesting, I saw some signs a couple of weeks ago. I work for the Wall Street Journal on 42nd Street.” You respond as you see you are almost to the destination.

“Well, here we are. I’m sorry about the coffee again.”

“Thank you so much for getting me here. Don’t worry about it.” He pauses. “I never got your name.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“My name is Michael Gray. Maybe, I’ll see you around Y/N.”

“Maybe Mr. Gray.” You respond, walking down the block to get to your own job.

It was only a few weeks later when the two of you ran into each other. He asked you out on a date and took you to McConnel’s bar to grab drinks. You two end up hitting it off talking for hours and him making sure you got a taxi home.

-

“Hey Michael.” You wave as he stands, brown eyes meeting yours, lip curving upward into a small grin.

“Hey Y/N, you look good.” You could feel your face heat up at his compliment, feeling the butterflies rushing into your stomach.

“Thank you. Do you want to grab a drink?” He nods, as you walk to the door, with him holding it open for you. You both wave to the bar tenders and sit at your table. The table that held too many memories and broken promises.

You tried to push those thoughts to the side. You didn’t want to set yourself up to be broken by him again. To feel the piercing cut of pain that wallowed in your heart. You kept the conversation light and focused on things happening now. No discussion of the past or the future. Those things could only be buried so long before they made their way to the surface.

Just a one minute walk

And it's just two blocks

And three drinks later

You're back in my arms

His place wasn’t far from the bar. It was only two blocks away and the quickest walk but this time felt different. It felt like the time was moving by slowly and you were trying to catch up. You were presently aware of everything going on but your mind was still plagued by the past. By the harsh words yelled out in the middle of the night, the lies that sent you packing, and a morning of waking up alone.

In this moment your mind was like a blank slate. A state of comfort and familiarity taking over. The kiss that tasted of poison three months ago was now sweet honey on your lips. His touch set you on fire once again. As you found yourselves stumbling around in his apartment in the night, making your way back to the bedroom to undress, to feel his body above yours, you missed this. You missed him, his smell, his arms holding you like you were the most important thing in the world. There you were back under his spell again.

I just had sex with my ex in a New York apartment

Now I'm a mess, I'm obsessed

I'm right back where I started, broken-hearted

Every time you call me, I'll pick up again

Back into my feelings, back into your bed

The first time shouldn’t have happened but did. It should have been a one time thing. It didn’t take long for you to be waiting to hear from him again. Trying to downplay it into not being a big deal. It didn’t mean anything, but it did. You felt it.

A few days later he called and it happened again. Everything was smooth until after the third time, he never questioned you leaving before but asked you to stay. That’s exactly what you did.

Waking up the next morning in his Manhattan apartment and eating breakfast as if things were patched up, but it wasn’t. You two continued acting like things were fine. It was breaking you on the inside but you ignored it. Ignored it to be temporarily happy with the one that made you the happiest when you were together. Even though he broke you to shreds, it was like he was the one sewing you back together even for just a moment. A moment of bliss with him, to take the guilt and shame away later. It was only two months later when things changed.

Gotta catch my flight, but I want more time

Gimme one more night to be wrapped up in you

It was the worst news to happen at this time. The Stock Market crash. It made many changes and left so much apprehension among the people. You didn’t hear anything from him for three days after it happened, letting worry get the best of you.

He shows up on the fourth day, knocking hard on your door as you were cleaning around your apartment. You open the door to his stoic face and rushed presence. Before you even got a chance to sit and say a word of your own, he broke the news that started the fire that would end in ash.

“I’m leaving back to England in three days. I messed up.” He huffs, fingers pulling at his dark locks.

“How long have you known?” You say, feeling the room start to tilt.

“Found out three days ago. Company’s a mess and my family is angry.”

“Maybe you should go.”

“I can’t stop this from happening. You knew, from the start that this wasn’t going to work. We’ve been only kidding ourselves!” He drips with sarcasm and a small laugh.

“Leave now! I don’t want to see you again!” You scream, teeth biting hard into your bottom lip, as you point toward the door. He grabs his things and you slam the door loud behind him. Knowing he was right but you wanted him to be wrong.

And I know that I'm losing my mind

And it feels like I'm losing you twice

Is it worth the price?

What have I gotten into?

You felt like the world was spinning upside down again. You couldn’t catch a break or a breath. That your mind was betraying you. That it was waving all the red flags possible and you just ignored it. He wasn’t going to be yours. You were back to square one and drowning your sorrows with the bottle in hand. Hoping the liquor would ease your mind, ease the pain, and erase the hole in your heart.

What if you never met with him for that drink or never met him to begin with?

Why you still loved the person that gained every part of you possible but let it slip between their fingers like sand in the wind?

If it was all an illusion, was it ever meant to last, to be forever?

Maybe the idea of being with him fogged up your mind. Being with him all over again wasn’t as bad for the first time. She was never vulnerable with anyone before him, not even herself. He brought vulnerability out of her, that it scared her. It scared him too because he felt the same way. Two people being vulnerable and still learning the curvatures of life.

You wish you could feel the joy of your first meeting over again and freeze that moment in time. The encounter and all the happy moments that followed but you couldn’t. Time wasn’t on your side and neither was loving someone you had to let go.

I thought it'd be harmless

So we kiss goodnight and I catch that flight

Say goodbye forever until next time

There you laid bodies bare and tangled in the sheets, holding the other tight together. As if you moved an inch away, that you would disappear right in the other’s eyes. The evening was weirdly amazing and you could feel the sadness as well. It was the elephant in the room. His bags sat at the door waiting along with his favorite navy jacket and black boots. Dinner went smooth as you made your favorite meal which was pasta and strawberry shortcake for dessert that was your favorite together. You asked him questions about his family back at home and what he was excited to get back to. He asked about how you were going to visit your family and take a small vacation. Futures without the other around.

“Do you think it was worth it?” You whispered as you trace small circles on his warm chest. Head resting on his heart, hearing the thumping loudly in your ear. He sat with his face toward the ceiling, left folded behind his head, and the other wrapped around your back.

He laid there thinking about your question knowing the obvious answer. He loved you so much the first time around and was sad to lose it. He now got to love you a second time but in a different way than before and he was losing you twice, in two ways, but it all hurt the same, but even worse than before. He wouldn't change him, you, or the time for anything.

“Yes, I wouldn't change any of it. Would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” You respond wanting to say more. To tell him you love him even though you knew he still was leaving. Words to fall on deaf ears. In the worst circumstance.

“Remember when we were going to get an apartment with a rooftop. On the inside we were going to have a room for art and reading. Two bedrooms for our kids. Planned on tracking strolls in Central Park.” You whisper with a shyness but chuckle at the end thinking of the thoughts that plagued your mind when you two first met. You still wish for those things to happen for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

“Couldn’t forget, you even had their names picked out. We’ve spent so much time walking around this city and seen enough art to last us a lifetime. I won’t forget the way your skin sparkles under the sunlight and the way you feel right now in my arms.” He lips press against the crown of your head.

That’s how you go back and forth listing good memories of the past and laughing like you would have a future together. It would only last so long before the tightness welled in your chest and the cloud that disappeared came back again. You spoke the words in your heart, feeling the shreds come.

“I’m going to miss you. I’m mad about how you treated me before and that you’re leaving forever. I love you Michael and am glad to have gotten the chance to be loved by you. Remember me in your daydreams.” You whisper as your voice goes shrill, cracking, as the hot wet tears spill from your eyes. Hand coming to wipe them harshly away.

“I’m going to miss you too. I’m sorry. I love you (Y/N). Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” His brown eyes stare into your wet ones. Foreheads touching, as you see him hold back his own tears, putting on a brave face.

“I promise.” You kiss him sweetly on the lips one last time. Then you kiss right above his eye, like you always did after the first time you told him you loved him. It was your way of saying it one last time, before he was no longer yours, not for just a first time, but a second.

The finality of it all as you drifted off to sleep. A peace falling over you, of your mind of the two of you together as one. One more dream of bliss before it all turned grey again. It was the best night of sleep you had in awhile.

When you woke up it was like a ghost visited you in the night. Every physical trace of him was gone like he was never next to you when you closed your eyes last. That morning you spent the day in bed crying over everything. Three months later you were still thinking of him and moving on. Only a year later were you met with someone new. A new adventure, with new memories, and new love.

It was the best of loves because you decided to let go of your last love.