#you changed my life and made me into a warmer person...

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | Bonus II

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nada

Author’s Note: I just want them to live in that damn cabin on Nevarro okay? We’ll get there. I swear. But also?? Bo Katan yall.

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Heiress

Bo Katan Kryze sat on her throne, staring blankly out the window of her once grand palace. Kalevala, the once beautiful and thriving planet of her people, was dreary and wet —both from the oceans and the rains that seemed to never stop. It had been a long time since she’d stepped foot in her childhood home; she had spent the last several years as a mercenary, leading her fleet through the galaxy on odd jobs for hire. 

“Milady,” the footman droid announced suddenly, drawing her attention from the windows. “The Princess of Senex —she has landed on the runway.”

Bo Katan’s brow furrowed as she slowly stood, lifting her helmet into her arms. “Is she alone?”

Rumors had been swirling around the Outer Rim —the death of Leox of Senex, an engagement to a “former” general of the Imperial fleet and a runaway princess. But Bo Katan had not heard much else regarding the Princess of Senex since her fleet —long gone by now, having abandoned her —got the call for the bounty. 

“There is one person on her ship, but she is coming in alone,” the droid confirmed, as footsteps echoed through the grand but empty halls of her home. 

Bo Katan stood tall as the Princess of Senex made her way into the throne room. It had been many years since the once ruler of Mandalore had seen the young woman; long enough for her to almost not recognize the princess as she stopped at the entryway. They were both much younger the last time they had interacted.

“I want to be a warrior,” the young princess exclaimed as Bo Katan removed her helmet. “I want to learn to fight.”

“Princesses do not fight,” Calisto of Senex corrected, giving her daughter a cold, almost callous look. “Lady Bo Katan is not a princess, therefore the rules do not apply to her.”

“Lady Kryze is a queen,” the child corrected, earning a pinch from her mother that caused her to cry out. 

Bo Katan watched Calisto with a wary, distrusting gaze. “Anyone can learn to fight. Princesses especially should learn.”

“Do not –,”

The doors of the meeting room opening interrupted whatever scolding Calisto had planned, however. Leox of Senex stepped into the room finally, holding several holotablets. His presence was a welcome change from his wife’s —warmer, brighter. He had a smile on his face. And as soon as he was in the room, Calisto left without a word —disinterested in what was happening. Leox did not seem bothered by her departure; though neither did their child. 

“I do apologize for keeping you waiting, Lady Kryze. I was finalizing the plans.”

Bo Katan simply nodded, glancing down at the child. “It is no concern, Senator. What you’re doing for me is more than I could ask for.”

Leox simply shook his head though, looking down at his daughter with a soft smile. “I hope you do not mind my daughter being here; she is learning diplomacy and I find the best way of doing so is being involved.”

“Of course; learn by doing. I don’t mind at all.”

The holotablet turned on, showing a map of her fallen planet of Mandalore. Bo Katan stared at it for a long time, noting the crystalized wasteland that had taken over everything. 

“What happened?” The little girl asked, reaching up to point at a rather worse for wear image of the planet.

“The Empire destroyed my home,” Bo Katan explained, eyes not tearing from the images she was seeing. “Your father thinks your scientists here can break through the crystallization and find enough life to bring it back, though.”

“If he can’t, one day, I will,” the child promised, looking up at Bo Katan with a determination that no child her age should show.

“Perhaps we should teach you to fight then.”

Leox had laughed, shaking his head, before they continued their meeting.

“I sent a distress signal to you,” the princess announced when Bo Katan motioned her forward. “So it seems it fell on deaf ears.”

“If you sent it here, then it did,” Bo Katan offered as an explanation. “But it does not seem like you need my help anymore.”

The princess still held herself with that royal posture –one that Bo Katan was certain her mother probably beat into her –but she did not look like the princess she met all those years ago. Instead of a gown, she wore a practical and utilitarian outfit, complete with a blaster one hip and a knife holstered on the other. There was a fierce determination in her eyes, one that told Bo that she had been through much more than any Inner Rim princess would ever see in their lives. Bo Katan couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in seeing how far the young princess had come since they first met.

Gone was the naivety of youth, replaced with a hardened edge that only came from bloodshed and battle; through loss and pain.

“It’s been a long time,” Bo Katan continued, stepping away from the throne to meet the princess in the middle. “What brings you to me now?”

“Can’t a princess come visit a queen without a need?”

“Not you,” Bo Katan countered, giving her a knowing look. “Not when I received an invitation to your engagement celebration. Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon by now?”

The princess pursed her lips, as if trying to keep herself from smiling. Bo Katan’s brow furrowed in confusion –what could she be smiling about? Was she not married to Silas Credence, a former Imperial general? A man decades older than her?

“I suppose the news has not been spread this far then,” she hummed, looking up at Bo once more. “Who do you think I am married to, Lady Kryze?”

“Imperial scum,” she offered up, narrowing her eyes.

“Then you would be incorrect,” the princess replied, a prideful smile taking over her grin. “My mother wanted that –but the engagement did not take. Marrying a dead man would be a scandal in and of itself.”

“What do you mean –Credence is alive, isn’t he?” 

The two stared at each other for several moments before the princess shook her head. “No, he’s no longer alive.”

“What happened?” Bo Katan demanded, stepping closer to the young woman in front of her.

“I killed him,” she explained simply, meeting Bo’s eyes cautiously. “With the knife given to me by my actual fiance.”

“The more you speak, the more cryptic you’re becoming,” Bo pointed out, frowning deeply. Footsteps suddenly echoed through the hallway, announcing the presence of another being. Bo tore her gaze from the princess, looking past her now. “Tell me you’re lying.”

The princess unsheathed the knife at her side, holding it out to the fallen leader of Mandalore. Bo Katan lifted it into her hands, looking over the signet that was pressed in the blade. 

Clan Mudhorn.

“Bo Katan Kryze, it is me. Din Djarin.”

Bo’s eyes shifted between the princess and Din Djarin, then to the knife. “That is certainly one way to become a Mandalorian. Did you send her in first because you knew I’d prefer speaking to her over you?”

“I did, actually.”

Bo Katan gave him a narrowed eyed glare before turning back to the princess. “Is it too late to tell you shouldn’t marry him?”

“I wouldn’t listen even if it wasn’t,” she replied simply, looking up at Din as he stopped behind her. 

Bo Katan let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. After several moments allowing her to process everything, she returned to her throne. Nothing she said would change what had been done, and truthfully, Din Djarin wasn’t the worst person the princess could have found herself married to. Though she was certainly curious as to how they had found themselves together –not that she would ask any time soon.

“What do you want?” Bo Katan finally asked as she sat back down, looking out the window once more.

“I need your help,” Din started, “I must bathe in the Living Waters of Mandalore to be redeemed. If you still intend to reclaim the planet –,”

“There are no intentions to reclaim Mandalore,” she interrupted, looking back at him with a deep frown. “I have no people. My fleet abandoned me when I lost the Darksaber.”

The princess looked between the two, brow furrowed. “What is the Darksaber?”

Bo glanced at her, frowning. “You haven’t told her?”

“Told me what?”

“By all intents and purposes, Din Djarin is the rightful ruler of Mandalore.”

There was a heavy silence that fell between the three of them. Din’s stance had tensed, and the princess was simply staring up at him with wide, confused eyes. Bo Katan found the scene entirely too entertaining, if she was honest with herself. She did not know Din Djarin especially well; their interactions had been brief and clipped, if anything. But she did know the princess well enough. And she knew that the princess was probably less than thrilled about finding out about the Darksaber through Bo instead of Din himself.

“And without the Darksaber,” Bo pressed on, cocking her head to the side in amusement. “No Mandalorian will follow me.”

“I do not want it,” Din argued, taking it off his belt and holding it out to Bo. “Take it.”

“That’s not how it works and you know that.”

“How does it work?” The princess all but demanded, looking between the two Mandalorians with a deep set frown on her face.

“It must be won through combat. I must beat him in order to possess it once more.”

“But I cannot just yield and hand it over, apparently.”

“So let me..let me understand this entirely,” the princess finally huffed, putting her hands on her head. Her sleeves slipped down over her arms, and Bo Katan caught a glimpse of a scar that traced up her forearm. The once ruler wondered, briefly, where such a scar had come from. The princess turned to Din now, pointing at him. “You have…one, broken your Creed because of me but did not tell me. Two, have a child who is Force sensitive but did not tell me. And three, are in possession of a weapon that makes you the ruler of a planet…but did not tell me.”

“In my defense –,”

“Din, you have none. There is no defense. You failed to tell me very important details –,”

“It sounds like this is a lover’s quarrel. I am going to have to ask you to take it anywhere but my home,” Bo Katan interrupted, looking between the two. “Please leave me alone. I am…not interested in being involved in any of this. Not anymore.”

The two stopped their bickering —well, the princess stopped her bickering —and turned to Bo, who was waving them out of her home. The footman droid started to usher them out, and finally, Bo Katan glanced up as the princess gave Din a weak shove and a dirty look, no doubt scolding him for withholding details from her. 

*****

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Din pointed out once they boarded the Crest once more. 

She had stopped talking to him once they were out of Bo’s sight. Her arms crossed over her chest in defiance as she ignored his help onto the ship, her gaze anywhere but him. 

Did he omit details? Yes, he did. But did he do it purposely? Not exactly. Truthfully, he hadn’t considered the consequences of not telling her he held the Darksaber. He didn’t want to think of them; he didn’t even want the weapon. It meant nothing to him or his people, therefore it didn’t need to be brought up. 

And regarding Grogu —well, he simply assumed she knew. The kid often used his abilities to get what he wanted. Din just figured the child had used them in front of her before, and she was well educated. She had to know of the Jedi and the Force. There wasn’t a reason for him to assume otherwise. 

Though, in hindsight, he should be telling his wife things. Even if they felt irrelevant. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, sitting in the pilot’s seat. 

Grogu climbed into her lap, reaching up to tug at the scarf that hung loosely around her neck. Even if she was frustrated with Din, she didn’t take it out on the kid; she smiled down at him, poking his belly gently to greet him. She had mentioned earlier that week, when the Armorer exiled him, that she didn’t like it when her parents argued in front of her. She refused to do so in front of Grogu.

“Did your dad forget to tell me that you’re a Jedi in training?” She teased, lifting Grogu into the air. Her gaze remained focused on the child instead of looking at Din. “And that he was technically king of an entire planet?”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the grin that was forming under his helmet. Even if she was frustrated with him –and she was; there was no doubt about that –she was trying to make light of it the best she could. 

“He did,” she continued, still ignoring Din. “He did forget to tell me. Isn’t that just silly of him, Grogu?” The child giggled in her arms, babbling in response as if he was trying to talk back to her. “Exactly, little one. He should have told me –we’re already married, what am I going to do? Run away?”

Her teasing tone had flattened some, and she finally looked at Din as she rested Grogu back in her lap. The child cooed some, standing up to move into Din’s lap next. 

“I should have told you,” he conceded, turning to take the child into his arms now. “I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking, truthfully. The Darksaber means nothing to my people, so it didn’t seem important enough to bring up. I am not the ruler of Mandalore and I do not want to be.”

“Then what do you want to be, Din?” She asked, pulling one of her legs into her chest, resting her chin on it. 

“I just…I want to be a Mandalorian once more. I want to take care of my clan. That’s all I want and all I’ll ever want.”

She hummed a bit in response before pushing herself out of her seat to stand over him. Her hands rested on either side of his helmet, holding him in place as he looked up at her.

“You’ve already gotten half of that then,” she reassured, pressing her forehead against his gently. “Now we just need to get you to Mandalore to get the rest.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

[lonelywhalien22]

pretty lies - part nine (finale)

pairing: vernon x reader

rating/genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, ANGSTY fluff, band au

summary: supporting your friend mingyu becomes way more than you ever could have bargained for when you become involved with one of his bandmates

warnings: cussing, vernon has issues in this story but please remember this is a work of fiction, mingyu stans don’t hate me but mingyu and reader are just friends

*credit: the lyrics referenced in this chapter are not mine, they are from the actual song black eye by vernon. and if you really wanna nerd out with me, listen to the band live session version he released, as that is what i imagined specifically while writing this part - trust me, it hits different.*

word count: 6.4k

prev. chapt. | series masterlist

~One year later~

“Ok, I think that’s enough for today,” you said to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your brow as you stood up from your crouched position. You glanced around your apartment, trying to find your glass of water as you caught your breath.

Your living room was full of cardboard boxes, some of them taped shut with short descriptions scribbled hastily on the outside while others were still open, various items thrown inside haphazardly. It was spring once again, but instead of the seasonal cleaning you loved to indulge in at the first sign of sunny skies and warmer temperatures, you were moving out.

When you’d first been contacted about a competitive job offer a few months ago, you had immediately dismissed the idea. Though the hiring manager had been highly impressed with your skillset, the work would be notably different from what you were used to doing at your old job, and you doubted whether you could handle the requirements of the role. Your hesitation only became stronger when you were informed that you’d also have to relocate to take on the position.

What about my family? Mingyu and the rest of my friends? The life I have here? You’d spent weeks pondering the possible scenarios and all the things that would change if you took the offer, and you’d almost talked yourself into declining it. That was until you realized how much had already changed. 

It had been nine months since the guys had left to go work on their recording with Woozi. You still remembered the final hugs you’d given to Jay and Mingyu at the airport before they’d gone through security, a certain third person having not yet arrived. You still wondered to this day if he’d purposely chosen to show up as late as possible or if it was you who had come extra early to avoid having to interact. Perhaps it was both.

You and Mingyu had facetimed pretty regularly for the first month that they were gone. Sometimes you’d even see Jay in the background during your video chats as well, the two of you exchanging greetings and asking how the other was doing. By the time the second month had come around however, the distance made it hard to always remember to keep in touch. Eventually you all became busier and busier, your lives naturally moving in different directions. No matter how much time passed though, Mingyu always made sure to at the very least share the bigger updates with you:

~

“Why’s it taking so long to finish recording? I thought you guys would have been back by now,” you asked during one of your monthly catch ups. It had been four months at this point since they’d left. 

“Yeah me too. Woozi wanted it out sooner but his team advised against it. They thought it’d be best to let some time pass between the competition and the release so there would be less of a chance of his image getting tarnished with all the drama from the fight.” Mingyu skirted over that last part quickly, knowing that it was still a sore subject for you. “But in a weird way it works out well - with the extra time, we’re gonna be able to write some more stuff and put together a whole EP.”

“What is that? Like five or six songs? That’s so amazing, I can’t wait to hear them!” 

“You know, you could always get a sneak peak if you flew out here for a few days,” Mingyu offered once again. He’d been trying to get you to come for weeks now. “Nikki’s already seen me twice since we left!”

“She’s your girlfriend, of course she has. And you know I don’t have the time anyways - my boss would never let me take off for that long.” It was true that your job was a pain in the ass, but you and Mingyu both knew you had other reasons for not coming to visit in person.

“Just promise you’ll come see us perform when the EP is released.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

~

Now in the present, when you really thought about it, you realized that there wasn’t much tying you to the place in which you currently resided. Watching Mingyu and the guys for so long had given you a taste of all the possibilities life had to offer, and you were tired of limiting yourself to what you currently knew when it wasn’t really doing you any favors anyways. The job offer had just been the final push you needed, and at last you felt ready and excited to pursue your own little sort of adventure. Even if it wasn’t as glamorous as flying across the country to work with world-renowned producers, it was yours and yours alone.

You pushed the boxes you’d been working on packing up to a corner of the room, ready to call it a day, when you heard your phone ring from somewhere in your apartment. Taking a few moments to find it amongst all the disarray, you managed to answer right before it went to voicemail.

“Hey, what time did you say your flight was landing?” It was Mingyu. You could hear lots of commotion in the background wherever he was, voices and instruments faintly reaching your ears.

“Should be around eleven in the morning.” With the career change you had several weeks of cherished personal time before you began your new job. Besides the time you’d need to relocate, you were finally able to take a few days to visit Mingyu and see what the band had been working on for yourself.

“Shit, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to meet you at the airport. We’re putting the final touches on some stuff and won’t be done until around one.” You could hear the regret in his voice, but all you could do was chuckle in response.

“I’m gonna get there Thursday and I’ll be staying all the way through the weekend. Trust me, you’re not missing much. Airports suck anyways.”

“I know, but still. We’re all looking forward to seeing you. It’s been way too long.”

You couldn’t help but wonder who was included in that “we,” but there was no way you were gonna ask.

“Well, that’ll all be fixed very soon,” you said instead, glancing over at your half packed suitcase.

“I’ll see if Nikki can meet you at the airport instead since she’s also visiting,” Mingyu offered. You squealed in excitement. Since the guys had left, you and Mingyu’s girlfriend had become pretty close, unsurprisingly. What had at first seemed like an obligatory relationship born out of a common bond had over time blossomed into a true friendship. She was definitely going to be someone you missed hanging out with when you moved.

“You should have started with that option,” you joked as you tried to figure out how many pairs of socks you needed to pack and where on earth you’d put them. “Tell her I need someone to show me around when I get there.”

“She’ll be glad to hear that,” Mingyu said happily before he was interrupted by someone on his end. “Y/n, I gotta go. But we’ll see you soon, ok?” he finished quickly.

“See you soon.”

—————

When your flight landed, it only took you a handful of minutes to find Nikki, the brunette jumping up and down excitedly as soon as she caught sight of you in baggage claim.

“Hey -” you greeted, letting out a slight “oof” as she gave you a big hug before immediately taking the bags you’d been carrying out of your hands.

“I’m so excited you’re here! How was the flight?”

“Good, just glad there weren’t any delays,” you said as you took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe you were really here, about to see the guys in person again after nearly a year.

“I know you’re probably hungry, but do you think you’d be good with just some snacks for now?” Nikki asked. “I tried talking him out of it but Mingyu’s insisting on everyone meeting up for lunch after they finish for today.”

“That’s fine,” you said as you began looking around for some place where you could buy some fruit or a salad, craving something fresh after being forced to eat airplane food. Nikki noticed the look in your eye, the way in which you immediately distracted yourself at the mention of the lunch. It was something that only she could have picked up on besides Mingyu, the two of them knowing the most about your past with a certain someone.

“In case you were wondering, he will be there,” she said softly, following behind you as you picked out a snack from a nearby stall and found your wallet to pay. “I just thought you’d wanna know.”

You let out a sigh. 

“I appreciate that, but I’m fine. It’s been months,” you said simply.

Nikki only stared back at you, her brow raised slightly as she tried to keep herself from calling you out on your bullshit.

“Really. I am,” you insisted. “Is it gonna be awkward at first? Yeah, probably. But this was bound to happen at some point. Let’s hope he doesn’t hate me and everything should be fine,” you said jokingly at the end, hoping she’d believe you then.

“Ok…” Nikki said. She piped up again after a few beats. “You know y/n, he’s changed - since being out here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not the same person he was the night of the Battle of the Bands competition.”

“Nikki,” you said with a warning tone, not liking where this was going.

“I’m not telling you to get back with him or anything,” her hands raised themselves innocently into the air. “I just don’t want you to let the way things ended between you two a year ago get in the way of you having a good time while you’re here,” she said gently.

“Thank you for that, but for the last time, I promise I am fine. Now - no more guy talk. Wasn’t there some thrift store you wanted to show me?” You brought up her weakness for clothes in an effort to change the subject once and for all.

“Say less,” Nikki said eagerly as she ushered you out of the airport and the two of you caught a ride to the hotel.

—————

“Y/n!”

Mingyu immediately pulled you into a hug that was even stronger than Nikki’s from earlier when he saw you. You couldn’t help the toothy smile that emerged on your face.

“Hey Mingyu,” you said simply. You really had missed your friend so much.

“Let her breathe,” Nikki chided playfully.

“Yeah, leave some hugs for the rest of us,” Jay said, arms open wide as you gave him a hug next.

“It’s so great to see you guys. I missed everyone so much.”

It was a little after one, and you and Nikki had finally met up with the guys to have a late lunch at a spot near the studio where they were recording. It was a bright and sunny day so you all had elected to eat at the patio seating out front. There was just one person missing though.

“Vernon’s running a little late but he’ll be here,” Mingyu said, seeing the question in your eyes. “He just had to finish going over some edits.”

Some things never change, you thought before you could stop yourself. You wondered if they were just covering for him with empty promises - if he’d somehow manage to avoid you for this entire trip.

You all finally sat down at a circular table outside. Mingyu and Nikki were to your right and Jay was to your left, leaving one last spot for Vernon just across from you.

“So what’s this I hear about you moving? And a new job? Congrats!” Jay started once a waitress had brought you all drinks. The four of you immediately began to catch up, most of the focus on you.

“I still can’t believe you’re gonna be gone,” Mingyu whined.

“I’m not dying, just moving. And now you know how I felt when you guys left,” you said playfully. “Who could have predicted we’d be spread all over the place like this?” 

As you continued to chat, you couldn’t help but reminisce about where you all had been just a year ago - struggling to get by and constantly putting in overtime to make things work with the band, your day jobs, and your personal lives. And now look at you all, on your way to better things. It made you feel so proud when you really thought about it.

“I’m really sorry I’m late you guys.”

You all looked up at the interruption, seeing Vernon approach the table in a bit of disarray. He was clad in a simple white tee and light wash denim jeans, an unbuttoned light blue collared shirt layered over his tee. As he sat down, his hand came up to brush some hair out of his face, but a few stray strands fell onto his forehead anyways.

“Was it the sound engineer guy again?” Mingyu asked him knowingly with a smirk. Vernon laughed in response.

“Yeah - he went on a rant about compression techniques this time.”

“I told you to stop asking him questions,” Jay threw in, “you’re too curious for your own good sometimes man.”

“I know, I can’t help it, but anyways - ”

He looked over at you, a polite smile on his face as he scooted up his chair.

“Hi y/n.”

“Hi Vernon,” you said curtly with a tight-lipped smile. You looked down at the menu in your hands, eyes skimming over the entrees again even though you already knew what you wanted to order.

“So,” Nikki started, clearing her throat in the lingering silence. “What did you all work on today?”

“Just rehearsing the songs from the EP in preparation for the showcase,” Mingyu responded, the two of them tag-teaming on moving the conversation along.

“Vern’s been instrumental in helping us craft some amazing songs,” Jay propped the man up with a pat to his back.

“It’s all thanks to Woozi really,” Vernon brushed off shyly, but Mingyu shook his head adamantly.

“Don’t sell yourself short bro, you’ve done some great work on this.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Nikki piled on another compliment.

“Thanks guys.” Vernon let out a cheeky smile, looking down at his lap for a moment before fiddling with the menu on the table to distract himself, his cheeks burning.

You hadn’t really taken Nikki seriously at first when she’d said so earlier, but she was right - something was different about Vernon. He seemed lighter somehow. And it was quickly becoming apparent to you that the guys had grown much closer after working on music together for the last nine months. You could see it immediately in the way they interacted with each other, the three of them trading jokes and stories easily as you all waited for the waitress to come back.

“What’s that you mentioned about a showcase?” you asked.

“We’re putting on a performance the day after the EP is released,” Jay explained. “Woozi and Seventeen are gonna make an appearance as well, so we’ll likely be performing in front of thousands.”

“That’s incredible,” you said with a stunned expression.

“It’s part of the reason I wanted you to come this weekend specifically,” Mingyu said. “I’m not sure the timing would have lined up so nicely if you didn’t already happen to be moving -”

Nikki nudged Mingyu, cutting him off with a stern look, but it was too late.

“Wait, you’re moving?”

You looked back over at Vernon, his brow furrowing as he looked at you with a crestfallen expression. No one had told him?

“Yeah,” you said nervously, glancing over at him for a second before looking away again. You reached for your glass of lemonade, taking a sip so you didn’t have to say anything else, another awkward silence filling the table.

“So, what can I get you all,” the waitress finally appeared, ready to take your orders.

You’d never felt more thankful for a distraction.

—————

The rest of lunch had gone as smoothly as it could have considering the circumstances, with everyone mainly focused on their food. Mingyu, Jay and Nikki did most of the talking, sharing more stories from their time away from home as you politely listened along, soaking up just how much you had missed and throwing in a question or two from time to time. You tried your best to keep from looking at Vernon, which wasn’t really all that hard considering he stayed quiet for the rest of the meal. When his name came up in the conversation he’d always give a smile or a nod, laughing along at Mingyu’s ridiculous exaggerations, but besides that he gave no input.

“Well this was fun,” you said as you all walked out of the restaurant. “I guess we can hang out more tomorrow when you guys are finished with work again?”

“Actually…we were wondering if you’d come with us to the studio,” Mingyu suggested. “We wanna show you what we’ve been working on.”

“Really? Now?” you said in surprise. “Are you sure?” You’d assumed you wouldn’t be able to hear any of the actual songs until the official release of the EP.

Jay nodded before adding on, “As of today, the mastering is done so the songs are officially finished.” You noticed how he looked over at Vernon briefly, the man’s face a little red with eyes averted and hands tucked in his pockets quietly, before he continued. “We all agreed awhile ago that we wanted you to be the first outside of the production team to listen to it, as a thank you for all of your support.”

You felt honored, nearly tearing up at their words. It was such a kind gesture that you didn’t bother worrying too much about the fact that you’d have to spend even more time around Vernon. Like Nikki had said earlier, you didn’t want your history with him to stop you from sharing in such a precious moment.

“You guys…this is really sweet…”

“We know. Now come on,” Mingyu ushered you towards him eagerly.

You looked back at Nikki in confusion as she kept her place on the sidewalk.

“Go on,” she said with a smile. “The guys insisted you had to hear it first. Alone.” She said that last part with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I’ll be waiting for you back at the hotel.”

—————

“Wow,” was the first word that left your mouth when you and the guys arrived at the studio.

The main area was bigger than the living room of your old apartment, a bunch of fancy recording equipment with hundreds of knobs and dials against one wall to your right. Comfy couches and chairs adorned the wall that was directly across, with plush carpets and decorative little knickknacks accenting the space. The recording booth was its own room, separated from everything else by a shiny sleek glass. When you peeked inside you saw a plethora of instruments and mic stands, and you even recognized Vernon’s guitar sitting in one corner.

“Crazy, right?” Mingyu urged you on with an elbow to your arm before he plopped himself into one of the chairs near the control booth. Vernon and Jay had already seated themselves. 

“Sit down!” Mingyu said, patting the last empty chair, which was beside him but also just so happened to be next to Vernon. You knew it was just by chance and that Mingyu would never set you up like that purposely, but that didn’t stop the nervousness that bubbled in your stomach.

“No way am I sitting that close to the controls,” you tried joking as an excuse. “I’m scared I’ll break something.” 

You backed up towards the couch against the opposite wall, planning to sit there instead, but the devastated look on Mingyu’s face made you stop in your tracks. Unable to take anymore of his expression, you glanced over at Vernon on instinct and your heart fell even more when you saw the way he immediately looked down at his lap, scratching the back of his head despondently.

Fuck. Was I that obvious? you thought, immediately feeling stupid for making things awkward.

“I can switch with Jay if - ” Vernon started, but you quickly cut him off.  

“No! No it’s fine,” you said, shaking your head before taking a step forward. “I’ll just - ” you didn’t bother finishing that sentence because what were you supposed to say exactly? No, it’s fine, I’ll just sit down next to my ex instead of making you all switch chairs because I still feel weird about breaking up with him? That would have been even more embarrassing. Maybe Nikki was right - you weren’t as over your past with Vernon as you’d thought.

You finished making your way to the final seat at the booth and promptly sat down, folding your hands in your lap as you tried to muster up some semblance of poise.

“Show me what you guys have been working on.” 

Mingyu looked at you seriously for a moment, making sure you were really ok first. Once you gave him a genuine smile and elbowed him playfully, he released a breath, the anticipation growing on his face again.

“Jay, can you play the first track?” he asked.

“Sure thing man.” The bassist clicked away on a nearby monitor before sitting back, sound beginning to flow from the speakers.

For the next half hour or so, you listened to several of the songs the guys had spent months crafting, worries quickly melting away as you couldn’t help but absorb yourself completely into the music. At the end of each one you immediately gushed over the melody, production elements, or other details, Mingyu and Jay eagerly offering in-depth input on more of the behind-the-scenes process. Vernon also chimed in from time to time, slowly becoming more comfortable as he gave insight on lyrical choices or even helped to elaborate upon your comments when you struggled to articulate in technical terms what it was you’d noticed in each song - “We added some more reverb here in the bridge,” “Woozi had them redo the mixing so many times on this song so they could capture Jay’s pedaling,” “That bit you’re hearing is a layer of syncopation over the main melody.” It was hard not to notice the passion in his voice. It exuded from him every time he spoke - an unbridled joy you had never seen before. You found it endearing, a smile slowly growing on your face the more you watched him.

The fourth track was the official recording of Visions. The four of you stayed completely quiet throughout the entirety of this song, fully absorbing Vernon’s raw vocals and the way they glided over the rich instrumental. Goosebumps covered your skin by the end.

“Vernon…that was beautiful.”

You were the first to interrupt the silence that filled the space afterwards, unable to stop yourself from looking directly at him. Despite everything that had happened, Visions would always make you feel something that was hard to put into words. You two didn’t have to still be together for you to regard that song with incredible care and awe.

“Thank you…that means a lot,” Vernon said, holding your gaze timidly for a moment before looking down, rubbing his hands across his jeans. He hoped you couldn’t see in his eyes how much your words still meant to him, after all this time.

“Thank you for trusting us with it,” Jay added in, Mingyu nodding along. 

No more words had to be said, the group of you sitting comfortably in the silence for a little longer before Mingyu quietly spoke up again.

“There’s just one more song left,” he said, eyebrows beginning to wiggle mischievously.

“There is?” you asked, curiosity peaked at the thought of even more music to listen to. But Vernon’s head jerked back up in panic at Mingyu’s words.

“N-No. There’s not,” he said abruptly, eyes wide as he quickly shook his head in denial. He looked legitimately scared.

“We discussed this already and you said you’d do it. I really think it’s best you stick to your word,” Mingyu said to Vernon, getting up from his chair and patting him on the back before walking towards the door. “Y/n. You good?”

“Yes…?” you said, appreciating his checking in before he seemingly left you alone with your ex.

“No - Mingyu wait -” Vernon said.

“You got this bro.”

“Rarely do I say it, but for once I’d have to agree with Mingyu here,” Jay said as he also got up and retreated towards the studio door. “Plus he stole my guitar pics and won’t give them back unless I agree to this plan so…”

The two bandmates exited the room, the door closing with a sort of finality as you and Vernon were left alone together in the studio.

What is happening right now? Why the hell would I tell Mingyu I was ok with this? Your mind went into overdrive as you fully processed the situation you’d so easily gotten yourself into, and yet, there was another part of you with so many questions that you found yourself glued to your seat.

If it was any consolation, Vernon looked just as unnerved as you.

“I’m sorry. I swear I had no idea they were gonna do this, I promise,” he said as he glanced over at you, immediately feeling the need to explain. 

This wasn’t how he’d imagined sharing this last song with you. If he was being honest, he’d never been able to figure out how to go about it, or if he should even try at all. So now that you were right here, sitting beside him again after a whole year had passed, he felt himself panicking. When all he heard was your silence in response, he continued to ramble on nervously.

“You can totally leave if you want. I won’t stop you.” It may have sounded like a cruel suggestion, but to Vernon it would actually have been so much easier if you did - if you left him again just like you had at that bench by the river a year ago. That way he wouldn’t have to reopen an old wound - wouldn’t have to rub salt in something he wasn’t entirely sure had healed. He could just continue to live in denial, never again having to confront the pain that had been so much of his existence or the hurt from his past with you.

“Why did you decide to record Visions? After everything that happened?” Vernon finally heard you ask instead. 

It was something that had tormented you nearly every day since your breakup, the question coming to you randomly late at night or when, against your better judgement, you’d listen to certain songs you knew would make you think of him. If you’d been in his shoes you didn’t think you could have done it, and so in this moment you found yourself desperate for an answer.

“I almost didn’t,” Vernon admitted, the confession spilling from his lips rather effortlessly once he’d recovered from his surprise. “But every time I tried to convince myself not to, I would think about the times I’d gotten to perform it on stage…” He looked forward, focusing on the recording booth before continuing. “I didn’t have the words for it then, but now I realize that it was healing - getting to share that song with others. And I think deep down there was a part of me that was tired of hurting myself as a way to cope with the things that had happened to me. So when you still asked me to record it, even after the way things ended, I couldn’t ignore that.” He looked over at you again, repeating your words from a year ago: “It’s like you said, I was tired of hiding in silence. So thank you - for encouraging me. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

You weren’t sure what you thought you’d hear, but you certainly hadn’t expected something so…introspective.

“I’m glad. That it was healing for you.” 

His words were their own kind of salve, freeing you from a self-inflicted purgatory you hadn’t realized you were in until that very moment. 

“Sometimes I worried that maybe you hated me for it,” you acknowledged the last bit of fear you’d been holding in your heart.

“I can’t deny that I wasn’t upset at times, but I’ve never once hated you,” Vernon said earnestly. “Not even the first night we met - and not after you told me goodbye either.” He desperately needed you to know that.

You let his words seep into your heart, the look in his eyes telling you that he truly meant it, before you finally moved on. Once and for all.

“So,” you said with a deep exhale, suddenly finding it hard to hold his gaze. “What’s this last song? The one the guys want you to play for me?”

“Right. The song…” Vernon began with an anxious gulp - he’d almost forgotten why the two of you were in this situation to begin with. He mulled it over in his head for a second, trying to find the right words to explain what the song meant and why he’d written it, but eventually he realized that defeated the purpose. The song existed for this precisely - because he had always struggled to adequately articulate his feelings in any other way. So instead of stumbling over his words for any longer, he leaned over the control booth and pressed play:

Running 'round the whole city for someone

To look me in my eyes and tell me pretty lies

Teardrops keep blurring up my sight

And right now I'm driving in my car

Going so fast, baby, so fast, baby

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

Don't leave me in the dark

You said you won't be far

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

I can't stand the quiet

Is anyone out there?

Is anyone out there?

I'm on my worst behavior

Don't stop me now

I fucking hate this world

So show me a way out

Wake me up from this nightmare, please

I can't stand this reality

I'm on my worst behavior

How you like me now?

Put a muzzle on me

I'll spit in your mouth

Wake me up from this nightmarе, please

I'm scarred and bruisеd with a black eyed face

Woke up on the highway

I didn't go home last night

What you know 'bout me?

I ain't got nothing

So why you keep coming to me?

With your innocent eyes, you smile so bright

Stop wasting your sunshine on me

'Cause I can't tell if it's real or a lie

Solitude

I got a couple friends

Just me, myself, and I

We play with fireworks all night

I'm okay

I'll just let it burn everything around me

'Cause you can't save me from my sadness

No, don't save me

I'm on my worst behavior

Don't stop me now

I fucking hate this world

So show me a way out

Wake me up from this nightmare, please

I can't stand this reality

I'm on my worst behavior

How you like me now?

Put a muzzle on me

I'll spit in your mouth

Wake me up from this nightmare, please

I'm scarred and bruised with a black eyed face

Turn on the radio all the way up

'Til your eardrums explode

Let's dance all night long

But if you come too close

I might just burn you whole

Turn my back and shut the door

Knock, knock

Is there anybody out there?

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Vernon as the song filled the studio, body frozen in your seat even after it was finished. So many lyrics had stood out to you:

pretty lies

tears blurring up my sight

don’t leave me in the dark

you said you won’t be far

I can’t stand the quiet

on my worst behavior

didn't go home last night

what you know 'bout me?

your innocent eyes, you smile so bright

stop wasting your sunshine on me

can't tell if it's real or a lie

just let it burn everything around me

you can't save me from my sadness

black eyed face

“Y/n? Are you ok?” Vernon asked, turning his chair to face you fully as he saw your expression. He was terrified of what your reaction would be.

“I’m not sure…” you said honestly, finally looking over at him. “Are you ok?”

“I am, I promise. This is something I started writing around the time I joined the band. Right before I met you,” he tried to explain.

“But clearly that’s not when you wrote all of it - black eyed face? ” The more you went over the bits of lyrics you could remember, the more you saw parts of your relationship and his time with the band sprinkled all over it. You didn’t really know how to feel.

“You're right - I added different parts at different times until it all came together. It was my way of coping with what I was going through at the time…and eventually that included pieces of you too - pieces of us.”

“Pretty lies? Wasting my sunshine on you? Is that really all you remember when you think of our relationship? The painful parts?” you asked quietly, a little afraid to hear his answer.

“No, of course not,” Vernon looked at you gently. He wished he could hold your hand in that moment but he held himself back.

“Then I don’t understand. Why write this -”

“Because I love you,” Vernon said finally, his stomach dropping at the confession. He couldn’t bear the thought of you misinterpreting his words any longer. “I love you and I’m sorry for how things ended. For what I put you through. This song was my way of acknowledging that - not by attacking our relationship, but by putting myself back in that negative headspace and being open for once about the fact that I still had things to work through. When it was too late to be better for you or for the guys, I had to find a reason to be better for myself. And so I wrote this song as a reminder.”

You heard everything he said, but you could only focus on one thing.

“You love me?” you couldn’t help but ask, feeling strangely emotional for someone who had supposedly moved on.

“I mean…yeah. I’m not sure the feeling will ever go away,” Vernon’s face turned red as he decided to be completely honest with you.

“I…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m not asking you to take me back - it’s just something I want you to know.”

Just then you heard a noise on the other side of the door, the two of you looking over just in time to see Mingyu peek his head into the room.

“Sooo…the song’s good isn’t it???” the man blurted out, brows once again wiggling. “I was thinking we could call it Pretty Lies.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, ready to tell him to knock it off, but someone else beat you to it.

“Leave them alone!” you heard Nikki say, dragging him back by the collar of his shirt. You thought she was at the hotel, but apparently even she couldn’t stay away for long.

“What? I just wanna -” but the door promptly shut, blocking out Mingyu’s antics. 

The two of them really were made for each other, you thought with a bit of admiration. You and Vernon couldn’t help but begin to laugh.

“I guess that means it’s time to wrap it up,” you started, standing as you gathered your belongings. Vernon followed suit, still facing you.

“Just so you know - the label doesn’t know about this song,” Vernon said. “And regardless of what Mingyu wants, I’m not sharing it unless you’re comfortable. The EP is great as is.”

“You’re right that it’s great,” you started, “but it’d be even better with this song. It’s really, really, good Vernon,” you said honestly. You couldn’t deny that, even if it had been a little surreal to listen to in the beginning.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, walking towards him and reaching out for a hug. He was the only person you hadn’t given one to since arriving, though this one felt notably different from the others, the familiarity of his touch sparking something in you. 

Vernon held on to you tightly, his head instinctively tucking into that familiar spot on the side of your neck while you rubbed his back softly, neither of you letting go.

“We’re gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss you,” he admitted once you two had lessened your hold enough to look at each other, the thought finally dawning on him that whenever he did finally return home, you wouldn’t be there waiting for him.

“I know. I will too,” you said wistfully. “But this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever, you know?”

You stood up on your tip toes then and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. It wasn’t one of fiery passion, nor was it one loaded with secrecy or shame or hurt. And to Vernon, it was his absolute favorite of any of the kisses you two had ever shared. When you looked up at him, you could barely hold in your laughter, his face morphing into the perfect mixture of bliss and confusion.

“But how? You’re moving,” Vernon couldn’t help but ask despite the happiness he felt.

“Slowly. We can visit each other. With my new job I’ve got more flexibility, and you’re all gonna be famous soon anyways,” you only half-joked. “Even when you guys finally do come home, I have a feeling you won’t be there for long…”

He looked down bashfully at that but you placed a hand to his face, angling it back towards you as you looked at him seriously again.

“Vernon. I want us to explore this - the way we are now. If you want to.”

“I do,” Vernon said confidently.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you said assuredly. “I trust this. I trust us. Ok?”

“Ok.”

—————

When you and Vernon finally left the studio, you found Mingyu, Jay, and Nikki all waiting for you out in the lobby with bated breath. Nikki let out a near shriek when she saw that the two of you were holding hands.

“You guys have my blessing to include the final song,” you said immediately, deciding not to keep them in suspense for any longer.

“Oh thank god,” Mingyu immediately blurted out. “If I’m being honest it’s my favorite and I really wanna make it the single -” Nikki smacked Mingyu’s arm. 

“Ow! What was that for?” 

“‘Gyu would you please think before you speak???”

“What are you talking about??? You screamed before I said anything and have been gushing about double dates for the last five minutes.” 

The two of them continued bickering playfully.

“What they’re trying to say is - we’re really thankful we get to share the song,” Jay translated. “And we’re happy for you guys.”

“I am too,” you chuckled lightly. “Although now that I think about it, I have one request - can you call it Black Eye instead of Pretty Lies?”

The guys all looked at each other for less than a second before speaking in unison.

“Deal!”

—————

It was the day of the showcase. You stood in the crowd once again, just a speck in a sea of thousands of fans as you watched the guys perform. It brought you back to the best parts of old times, sitting around on Jay’s beaten up couch when all they could have hoped for were a hundred people to show up if they were lucky. But now you got to see them on their biggest stage yet, Mingyu happily tapping away at the drums, his head of hair moving all over the place as he kept the beat going. Jay was his usual chill self, just vibing out on the bass contentedly. And then there was Vernon, looking a little shy as the opening chords of Black Eye began to ring out from the strings of his guitar for the first time live. It reminded you of when you’d seen him take the mic at the first gig the guys had ever performed at together, except that now there was a distinct sense of determination in his eyes despite the trepidation that you couldn’t help but admire - the sight awakening a long lost feeling of butterflies in your stomach. He caught you looking at him, gazing at you fondly for one last time before leaning into the mic and beginning to sing.

prev. chapt. | series masterlist

a/n: if you made it all the way here to the end, I just wanted to say thank you to each and every one of you who took the time to read this story! if you've got feels, feel free to share them with me here or reblog the ml if you're so inclined. please take care <3

taglist: @twogyuu @yourfavoritefreakyhan

[spookydrreid]

Pastel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Smut (MINORS DNI)

Content warnings: friends to lovers, painful pining, mentions of food (spencer gets her breakfast), lots of kisses, sort of innocent!reader if you squint, implication of getting sick, fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, giggly sex, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything.)

Word Count: 3.1k

*Cover made by @xoxospencerreid*

...

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…

Summertime in Washington dc is always my favorite time of year. Not only is the air warm, but it’s also when she comes to life. She as in my coworker (y/n). Realistically speaking, she came to life in every season, but it was clear she was the happiest when the sun shined longer, and the air was warmer.

I walked into work, flashing my badge to the security officer before heading towards the elevator and pressing floor six. I carefully balanced two coffees, one iced and one hot, along with her favorite muffin. It was something I did every morning for the past four years. Not only did it give me an excuse to talk to her, but I hoped that maybe she would see me as a little more than a friend.

My mind wandered as each floor dinged. Every day, no matter the time of year, she was always dressed in pastels. It didn’t matter if everyone else was wearing dark tones for fall, she was always in some funky, seventies(ish)-inspired outfit. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t suit her personality perfectly. Because it truly did.

Y/N came to us four years ago when cases got longer, and JJ needed an assistant. And it wasn’t long before she became a permanent part of our team, and I developed the worst crush on her. I mean, realistically, anyone would be stupid to not crush on her. She was stunning, kind and the definition of sunshine.

The dinging of my floor brings my wandering mind back to the present. My heart always gets fluttery when the doors open. I loved seeing her more than I really liked to admit. She has only called out of work twice since we started working together and I don’t think I’ve ever been more miserable in my life than those days.

I see her smiling face sitting at my desk, curiously looking through the little trinkets I kept. Most of them are things I’ve accidentally left there, and others are from my mom or my friends. I watched her for a moment, her curiosity making her oblivious to the others in the room.

I grin and walk towards her, “find anything particularly interesting?” She jumps at the sound of my voice, turning around to face me.

The guilty smile on her face tells me she feels bad for going through my things, but I didn’t mind. “Not really. You’re very boring if I’m being honest.”

It makes me giggle a little, mainly because I knew she wasn’t being honest. She had a habit of telling me that I was the most interesting person she knew. It was cute. “I tell you that all the time. But you never believe me.” I hand her the coffee with a grin, and she takes it mirroring my emotions.

“Your personality isn’t boring. But your desk is. Half of these books I can’t read cause they aren’t in English! Except this one cause it’s in French.” She grins wide as she looks up at me. It makes my heart flutter. “Thank you for the coffee!”

“You’re welcome! Oh, I got you a muffin today because for once they weren’t out!” I watch her light up more as I hand it to her. She squeals as she takes it out, spinning in the chair with childlike excitement.

“You’re the best! Have I ever told you I love you? Because I do. Sweet angel!” I swallow down the feelings that her friendly love confession brings up. She tells me she loves me every day, sometimes more than once a day. But I knew it didn’t mean anything besides friendly.

“Every day for the last three years, seven months, six days.” I mutter, trying to keep the emotions out of my voice.

She puts her coffee down on one of my books; if it was anyone else, I would be more than upset. But it was her and the book wasn’t a first edition, so I would survive. She gets up and wraps herself around my torso, hugging me close. Again, if it was anyone else, I would be weirded out and feel like I needed a shower. But because it was her, I was more than okay.

It sounds weird, but I knew she was clean. She always smelt like strawberries and coffee. An odd mix but a good one at that.

“It’s very sweet you remember that.” She giggles with her face in my chest.

“I remember everything. Whether I want to or not.”

She giggles, pulling back just a little to look up at me, her big eyes making me nervous. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to remember our little fun moments?”

“I-I no! no that’s not what I meant I promise!” I stutter through an apology because the last thing I want to do is upset her. I’ve seen her cry before, and while she was sweet, it still broke my heart.

She giggles as she lets go of me. I instantly miss her when she lets go. “Spence, I was just kidding.” She grins up at me and pats my chest, fixing my tie a little.

“Right! Right. I’m sorry!” I smile at her, trying to cover up my awkwardness.

“Apology accepted, Dr. Reid!” and with that she hops up, coffee and muffin in hand before scurrying away to meet up with JJ and Penelope to go over cases.

I watch her until I physically cannot see her anymore. And once she’s gone, I hear giggling behind me. “Pretty boys got a crush on Y/N!” Derek mocks from his desk.

I sit at mine, putting back all the trinkets she touched to their correct spots, “I do not have a crush on her!” I lie through my teeth, trying hard to keep my facial expressions neutral and believable.

I watch both Morgan and Emily roll their eyes, “yes you do, Reid. It’s extremely obvious.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if it was as noticeable as they are claiming? I surely thought I was hiding it well. But then again, they were profilers. She wasn’t. But it didn’t mean I wasn’t panicking inside.

“I do not have a crush on her,” I sip my coffee to cover the blush rising up my neck.

“Why don’t you just tell her you like her, Spencer.” Emily asks

I know I cant lie to them, they know too much. They knew me better than most. “Because I am afraid of rejection. Do you see me?”

They look at each other in utter shock before they both burst out in laughter. “Reid, are you kidding me? I know you have poor vision, but you aren’t blind. You can’t tell me you don’t see the way she treats you?”

I just stare at them in pure confusion, “I see the way she’s nice to me because she has to be? She knows she’s gotta get along with all of us if she wants to keep her job.”

“Arent you supposed to be a genius? And a profiler? She’s in love with you dude.” Morgan says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I can’t help but feel like he’s fucking with me.

When it came to women liking me, it was typically for pity, a dare, or they wanted to make themselves look cool for dating a genius. None of them ever dated me because they truly like me. So, the idea that she liked me for me was hard to wrap my head around.

“No, she doesn’t. She’s just being nice to me.” They don’t get a chance for rebuttal as we’re called in to be briefed on a case. And for once, I am glad to look at a crime scene.

…

This case fucking sucked.

If there was one thing I hated, it was copycats. They all were trying to be something they aren’t, and they were sloppy. I wished they would try to get their fifteen minutes of fame some other way. But the world didn’t work like that, so here I am, forced to look at a girl murdered just as the black dahlia had. It made me a little queasy, but it was fine. I was used to this.

But the girl to my left? Not so much.

“Oh my god. I think I’m going to be sick…” She turns away from the scene, trying her best to hold it together in front of the other officers. She had this thing about doing all she could to not make the team look bad. She wanted us to be respected for all the good we do.

I follow her, wanting to comfort her and let her know it was okay to not be able to stomach scenes like this. Hell, I couldn’t for a good few years. I would push through, but it wasn’t something everyone could do.

She sits in the grass, head in her hands as she takes deep breaths. “Okay. You’re okay. It’s okay. Just a body. They’ll catch him.” She mutters to herself as I sit beside her.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. She jumps a little but relaxes when she realizes it’s me.

She nods “yeah! Yeah! Totally. I am … perfectly okay.” She’s lying through her teeth, and she knows that I know it. “Okay no. That scene is… gruesome. But I should be used to it by now! I mean, it’s been four years!” she’s rambling, and I can’t deny how cute I find it. But also, she’s panicking, and I’m supposed to be comforting her. Something I don’t do often.

“One time, we were dealing with a case like this one. I mean they weren’t cut up like this, but you get the idea. Elle was with us at the time and let’s just say … the turkey sub we shared at lunch made a gross reappearance.” She laughs a little, her smile making me smile.

“That’s really gross, Spencer. But I appreciate the sentiment.” She leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder. And it takes everything in me to not kiss her head.

“What I’m getting at is that it’s okay to feel uneasy around a victim.” That makes her loop her arm with mine, pulling me closer.

She sighs “you always know how to make me feel better. You’re the only one.” Her voice is kind of quiet, but I hear every word.

“I-I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

She answers quickly, very sure of answer, “yes. You are. No one makes as happy as you do.”

My brain sort of short circuits at her little confession. I truly didn’t know what to say or how to respond to that. It’s not everyday someone tells me I’m the only one who makes them happy.

So I go with the first thing my brain can think of, “the same thing goes for you. You’re the only one who can make me happy.”

She looks up at me then, big eyes staring straight through me. I watch them flicker between my eyes and lips, not wanting to stare at one place for too long, it seems. And if it wasn’t for us being called by Hotch to go back to the station, I would’ve kissed her right there. But, as usual, the world is out to get me. And so, I help her up and we get back to reality.

…

Sleep was something I struggled with my entire life. I stayed awake at night, enjoying the quiet. Day time was hard for me, between my mother and the kids at school. I wanted to escape. Books and nighttime became that escape.

However, I wasn’t awake to escape my life. I was awake because I couldn’t get the way she looked at me out of my head. It was driving me crazy that I struggled to read what she wanted from me. To know if she really liked me the way they all said she did. I wasn’t exactly sure why my profiling abilities fall short when it came to her. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to be let down.

A knock on the door startles me. But then I hear her sweet voice, “Spence?”

I’m quick to open the door. She’s in silk pajamas, pastel just like everything else. She looks cute in casual clothes. “Hi! Um w-why are you awake still?”

She pushes past me, looking around my room before sitting on the bed, “I could ask you the same question, Doc.” She looks up at me with a precious smile and its then when I can’t take it anymore.

Before I can think about it, my lips are on hers. And when my brain catches up to what I’ve done, I pull back quickly “oh my – I am so sorry! I didn’t… I should’ve asked! That wasn’t fair.”

My heart pounds in my chest and I’m absolutely positive I’ve ruined everything. And when her brain catches up, she grins and grabs my arm, pulling me back and pressing her lips back to mine.

And this time she’s the one to pull away, “finally. I’ve been waiting four years for that, pretty boy.” A smirk playing on her kiss-swollen lips. I know that look.

“You and me both.” I kiss her again, leading her up the bed until she’s resting against my pillows. Her hands are all over me and I’m loving every minute of it. It isn’t long before my lips travel down her neck, trying to reach every inch of skin.

But eventually I run out and pull back to ask her, “if-if we keep going there is no going back. Because I really like you and if this means that I lose you… I’d rather not do it at all.”

She laughs, one of my favorite sounds to exist ever, “I’ve waited way too long for this to end here. I want to if you do.” She gets a little shy, her fingers holding me gently.

“I very much want to. So, so badly.”

Her hands leave me to start unbuttoning her top, “well… get on with it.” And she doesn’t have to ask me twice.

It’s not long till were both bare. My eyes wander hungrily around her, not wanting to be disrespectful but wanting to take her in. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I hope you know that." My hands run down her body, her smooth skin satisfying under my fingertips.

I let the dip between her legs, two scared fingers running through her slit. She gasps a little and I want to hear her do it again. “So wet for me, baby.” I do it again. This time, I let my fingers linger on her clit.

“More. Please…” her whines are music to my ears. I give her what she wants, pushing one finger inside her to ease her into it. I watch her mouth drop open as I curl my finger and start moving. “God, Spencer!”

I grin when my name leaves her lips like this, “sound so pretty for me.”

I push in another finger, stretching her. She lets out a moan while I move my fingers faster. “Fuck! Spence, please… you’re so good.”

I’m a sucker for praise and hers spurs me on more. All I want is to make her feel good, better than anyone ever has in her life. Call it cocky but I really don’t care. Her nails dig into my bicep and her whines get higher. She’s close.

I use my thumb to rub her clit while I move my finger faster, our lips connecting to keep her a little quiet. It was 3 am after all. It wasn’t long before she tips over the edge, “Spencer!!” I watch her while I bring her through it. She’s beautiful and it’s even better than I could’ve ever imagined.

“I knew your hands were beautiful, but I didn’t think they’d make me feel that good.” She giggles while she tries to collect herself.

It makes me laugh. “Cute. Are you okay?”

She pulls me down for a kiss, “never been better… now, are we going to fuck or what?” I laugh again and straddle her hips, my lips kissing down her neck.

“So impatient.”

“I-I’ve been waiting for f-four years for this. I’m allowed to be impatient.” She grins at me while I line up and right before she’s about to say something else, I push inside. Slow and controlled as to not hurt her. “Fucking hell… you feel so fucking good.”

Once I’m sheathed fully inside her, I have to take a second to not only collect myself but to let her adjust. She’s warm, wet and tight around me. She’s the best I’ve ever had the pleasure to feel. My mind is filled with nothing except thoughts of how good she feels.

“C-can move, Spence. Please.” Her pretty doe eyes look up at me and my heart fills with the all too familiar butterflies.

And so I give her what she wants. It starts off slow and controlled, me doing my best to keep my head on straight. But the second she asks me to fuck her harder and faster, I lose it. My hips plow into her, making her moan louder and mutter a version of my name over and over again. And it doesn’t take either of us long to tip over the edge.

I fight to keep my eyes open to watch hers roll into the back of her head while she gasps as I cum inside her. I rock us through it, occasionally kissing her.

“S-so good.” She grins and fights to catch her breath. And I’m doing the same.

I lay beside her, pulling her into me. “Am I allowed to ask what this means?” I ask her, a little hesitantly.

“Well, I hope it means you want to take me out to dinner and date me.”

That makes me laugh louder than I want it to be, “when we get home, it’ll be the first thing we do.”

She looks up at me with a huge grin, “deal, Doc.”

...

tag list: @worryd0ll @muffin-cup @will-on-the-internet @mikewizkalifa @dr-spencerr-reidd @reidsconverse @ssaalexisreid @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @princesssmooshie @my-life-has-been-a-lie @spenxerslut @xoxospencerreid @reiding-recs @aayaissaa @spencerreid9 @pancake2603 @wheelsupscenehater @sixxslut @doctorspenceryeet @freakyhood96 @flipperpenguins @ifvckedurmom @k-k0129 @measure-in-pain @rrtxcmt @withasideofmeg @totallyclearwitch @vaella1821 @shemarmooresfedora @tbuhgs @manuosorioh @luvofyourlifeliv @reidsbookclub @@mikhailogallavich @coldlilheart @everythingbutnormal @reidsacademia @sassymoon @nomajdetective @spideygenius @goldensonlyangel  @hufflepuffhaze @doctcr-reid @meganskane @thisismynerdyself @spencerreidat3am @samuel-de-champagne-problems

[grilledcheesehasfeelings]

Winter in Hawkins has been brutal this year, snow was falling heavy, there was not a single soul who should be out in these conditions, which is why when Steve hears a knock  on his front door he’s confused and also a tad panicked. A number of horrible thoughts plague his head as he rushes to open the door.

Swinging the door open the young man takes a shocked step back, “Erica??” 

“Yeah it’s me dipshit, now can I come in or what? People are going to be pretty upset to find an incredibly wholesome child frozen on the Harrington front steps.”

Gathering his senses after a moment, Steve quickly ushers one of his adopted kids into the house. Taking her jacket and stowing her boots with the other shoes, he also grabs a blanket from the storage bench, and leads Erica to the living room. “You know we have to talk about this Sinclair right? What the hell were you doing out in a storm like this? Do your folks know where you are? Also why the hell are you here?” The questions just kept coming pouring out of a very protective and concerned Steve.

Erica avoids eye contact with him and stares out the floor, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It is a look that makes Steve’s stomach twist. Baby Sinclair was always so confident and sure of herself, there was something clearly bothering her. He finally stops verbally vomiting questions and just waits for her to start talking.

“My parents got stuck in the city due to the weather, and Lucas is bunking with the other dorks who are doing a new campaign that Dustin came up with, they didn’t even invite me to play which is bullshit by the way, I’m the most  strategic player they know. And and I didn’t want to be alone Steve, this was the only place I could think of going to.” She finished her story  going quiet and her eyes started glistening with unshed tears.

“Hey hey it’s okay. Listen Erica first off those little shits suck for not including you and they should know better, secondly I hate being alone too, stresses me the hell out and if you hadn’t shown up tonight I definitely would be hating life right now.” Erica nods slowly, grateful she made the decision to bike here. 

Steve gets a little more information about the situation and decides to make a couple of calls as Erica gets changed into warmer clothes. He’s steeping two mugs of tea while talking to Mrs. Sinclair after he got the number to their hotel room. Steve assures the mom that Erica is safe and very welcome to spend the night. Even fibs saying he picked Erica up so the kid didn’t get an earful when she got home. The next call he makes is to Karen Wheeler’s house. Once he’s on the phone with Mike he makes the kid gather the rest of the party up to the phone, and gives a very intense lecture on including the younger girl, and the responsibility of taking care of our own. Steve takes pleasure in Max yelling at Lucas in the background. He knew there was a reason she was one of his favorites. 

Erica was on the couch now wearing older sweatpants from Steve’s freshman year probably, they were still big on her but a way better option than her half solid jeans she biked in. Also wearing Steve’s swim team sweatshirt. Steve’s eyes crinkled in a smile, it was always nice to be able to spend one on one time with any of the kids, he likes that he gets to see more of their genuine personalities.

Spending time with Erica was easy and funny, she actually reminded Steve a lot of Robin. The way Erica was able to completely dunk on Steve and have it mean she loves him was verrry Robin. They talked about school, her friends, and a long list of embarrassing secrets about Lucas that Steve mentally stores to use next time Erica gets ditched. 

Even though it’s easy to talk to Erica, Steve can see how tired she looks. It’s the same tired he sees in all of them, the same tired he gets after a few nights of nightmare fueled insomnia. Luckily he knows how to help, if it was anyone other than Erica he’d have to think harder, not for her though.

After a long while of talking they decide to put a movie in and just relax while staying as warm as possible. Halfway through The Princess Bride Steve offers her a huge bowl of Rocky Road. “I know it’s stupidly cold out, but if I recall correctly I have a pretty huge ice cream debt that I haven’t able to make a payment on in a long time.” He hands her the bowl and a spoon.

Erica takes the offering, a sad smile creeping on her face. “Y’know ever since Starcourt I thought that was as bad as it was ever going to get for us. Not many 10 year olds get to say they saved their friends, the world, from Russian scientists. And then spring break happened Steve, Max and Eddie almost didn’t make it out, you and Hopper have irreparable brain injuries, and Lucas and I were almost got by racist townies. I’m just so tired, and yet I haven’t been able to really sleep in months. None of us have.” Tears flowing steady now as she lets a heavy weight off her chest.

Steve grabs her small shoulders, “No one should have ever gone what we have all gone through. But here we are still standing, still breathing against every damn odd. All of us nerds, freaks, fallen cool kids, we saved the fucking world. A couple of times actually. But we did it. And honestly Erica I’d go through it another hundred times if it meant I get to have this weird little family. I love you Rick, and I promise one  day we won’t be plagued by shadows, monsters, and alternate dimensions.”

Erica smiled at the nickname solely reserved for Steve. If Erica could pin point the night where sleeping came a tiny bit easier it would surely be this sleepover. In her heart Erica knew that she’d brave any winter storm for her favorite adopted brother.

[padfootagain]

Something Good (VI)

Chapter 6 : The Theatre Club

Hi!! Here is a new chapter for my Ben Barnes series! Things are slowly getting better between these two idiots, I hope you enjoy this story so far. Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none! Slow burn, professor AU.

Summary: Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already is. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can’t get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially…

Word Count: 2781

With his paperwork done and his archive issue solved, Ben felt much more rested on this Friday morning.

Besides, he was meeting up with the students of the theatre club again, and he was happy to see them once more.

And he was also terribly happy because his plot for revenge against your insults was finally upon you…

It was stupid, and he knew it. It wasn’t even a revenge; it was simply his satisfaction at showing how wrong you could be. But he called it retribution all the same. He had a kind soul, after all. Being content with your disappointment was already being extremely evil for his standards. But you didn’t know that yet.

For now, you entered the large classroom to find Ben laughing with about ten students. It was strange to see him so joyful. You didn’t dislike the sight though. Not entirely. No… no, actually you disliked it. Very much so.

He threw his head back and let out a loud laugh, his glasses catching the light of the neon hung at the ceiling, and you were suddenly a little annoyed.

He finally noticed you as you walked closer, and he greeted you with a polite smile.

“Alright, let’s introduce our newest member, then,” he said, his smile growing in warmth as you approached. “We’re all on first name basis here, is that alright for you?”

“Sure,” you answered with a matching smile and a nod.

You were thus introduced to the students, and started to talk with the group. It took about fifteen minutes for the meeting to truly begin, as the members of the club were catching up on their holidays and first classes. You were surprised to find Ben relaxed, answering personal questions… even if he remained professional and in a clear position of authority in the group, he was far from the teacher you had imagined: strict, kind of an asshole. Actually, his voice was warmer than you had ever heard before, and he felt calm and welcoming. You tried to ignore the sudden fondness you felt towards him, and listened to the conversation instead, as it settled on the coming year.

“So, Y/N has made some suggestions for this year, and I guess we should decide whether they’re good ideas or not,” Ben said cautiously.

“We thought that we could adapt a musical this year, for a change,” you offered.

Ben had to admit he was surprised at how enthusiastic his students were. You glanced at each other, catching each other’s eyes by accident, and you grinned at the annoyed expression on his face.

“Which one should we choose then?” Roberta, a sophomore student asked.

“We have a list of three plays, you can choose from that,” you explained.

“They seem manageable to our scale, and they might be fun to perform,” Ben added. “We should wait for the new recruits to be here to decide, though.”

“Which musicals did you choose?” asked David, a very tall guy you guessed must have been playing rugby, judging by the size of his shoulders…

“The Sound of Music, Hamilton, or Moulin Rouge!”

The students started to excitedly speak together, all at once… but it seemed a rather close fight, and impossible to determine, for now, which play would be chosen.

You sat down on a table next to Ben. The students were busy talking together, and were paying no attention to you and your colleague.

“So… I bet you will be very happy if my musical is not chosen,” you told him, seeing clear through his game.

“That would be mean of me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“I could hardly deny that I will be highly satisfied when Hamilton is chosen.”

“Yeah… I guess it should be it. Most popular one.”

Ben nodded.

“Can I confess something?” you added in a whisper.

“Sure.”

“I would have loved working on Moulin Rouge!...”

He couldn’t refrain a smile.

“Well, as we are being honest… I would have liked it too. Great occasion to listen to Ewan McGregor’s sweet voice for hours.”

“Exactly! I agree! Wholeheartedly!”

“We’ll see what they choose, I guess.”

Silence settled for a minute or two between the two of you, until Ben glanced over at you. Henry’s words were back in his mind… he needed to try to be nicer to you. The way he would be with anybody else. Besides… the last time he spoke to you, asking you to go to London with him… he had found that it wasn’t that hard to be nice with you.

He seemed to hesitate, but finally spoke.

“Is your daughter feeling better?”

You were surprised by the question, and even more by the warmth of his voice as he spoke it aloud. It didn’t sound merely polite.

“She’s much better, yes. Thank you for asking. It was a small cold, no fever, just lots of hugs needed.”

“Good. And so… seven for tonight is still good for you?”

“Sure. It’s fine. My husband is picking up our daughter… I mean… ex-husband.”

Ben nodded, not pushing it. He didn’t make any comment on your mistake, and you felt grateful for it.

“How many children do you have?” he asked, crossing his arms before his chest, and leaning a little more against the table you were sitting on, settling into a more comfortable position.

“Only one. Sally. A five-year old who is even more pig-headed than I am, and that’s saying a lot…”

Ben chuckled.

“I can imagine.”

“What about you? Do you have children?”

“No, I don’t. Not married either, if you meant to ask next.”

“Single?”

“Single.”

“Me too.”

“Welcome to the losers’ club, I guess,” he chuckled, and you were surprised to hear him joking with you.

He seemed more relaxed than usual, you wondered why. Perhaps it was because of the students he seemed to have genuinely missed over the summer. Perhaps he was just happy to work on the theatre club again…

“Is it too personal if I ask you for how long you’ve been single?” you ask him cautiously.

“A little bit, yes,” he nodded, and didn’t answer your question.

You saw him standing straighter once more, and cursed yourself for clearly hitting a nerve.

You and your usual clumsiness…

“Right…”

“Just… don’t push it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Hey, Ben!”

Your conversation was interrupted by a very enthusiastic young man, with long blond hair and a leather jacket, the black ink of tattoos peeking above the collar of his Metallica t-shirt.

“We’re gonna grab a bite before heading to getting ready for the afternoon. Care to join us? We’ll get some fish an’ chips from the place down the street.”

“Sure, why not?” Ben accepted without much of a hesitation, and he turned to you before following his student.

“Are you coming?”

You nodded, jumping off the table.

Again, you couldn’t help yourself… you were kind of surprised by Ben’s warm behaviour…

Surprised… in a good way….

The members of the theatre club made an eclectic, hilarious, happy bunch of crazy people.

You were currently laughing at Nathaniel’s (the blond Metallica fan) stories about his job in a record store in a small town in Cornwall during the summer. And you were surprised by Ben’s behaviour.

Because he was relaxed. He wasn’t strict, or even serious. He was merry. Friendly. You could feel that he was remaining professional, not cursing, always remaining polite but… there was something warmer there too. You started understanding why he loved this club so much. It was nice to bond with students over a project you found interesting. But there was something more than that. You could feel it already.

“What about you, Y/N? Did you have crazy jobs when you were a student?” Giselle, a shy-looking girl with a buzz cut asked you.

She was majoring in philosophy, you remembered that…

“Oh… yes. But I am not certain that I want to disclose this kind of information in front of my colleague,” you laughed, looking at Ben.

“Why not?”

“He could use it against me one day…”

“I would not hit so low,” Ben reassured you, taking a sip of water before eating the last of his chips.

“Then, I think Ben should speak first, and then Y/N can answer,” David proposed.

Ben heaved a sigh, looking for an anecdote that would not be too ridiculous, but still fun to tell.

“Well, I… did work in a bar… when I was still underage.”

You all laughed.

“That must have been something!” you chuckled.

“I served alcohol while still too young to be allowed drinking… it was awesome. I was also particularly… let’s say… hefty, at the time. So, when a fight would break out, I was always of great help.”

You all burst out in laughter again, and you had to brush away a tear.

“Alright, Y/N, your turn. I’ve been made fun of enough by my students, it’s your turn now,” Ben smiled, and you recognized a glimmer of mischief in his dark eyes.

You looked for a funny story for a moment, drinking some water.

“I worked in a shop over the summer once, where we sold wedding dresses and suits. And… one day a woman and a man entered, and I thought that they were mother and son. And as we were talking about the guy’s suit, I congratulated the woman on her son’s wedding. Turns out they were going to get married…together. They were engaged not… not mother and son.”

Everyone was laughing again, and Ben almost choked on his fish.

“They did not buy the suit… it was kind of my fault…”

Ben doubled with laughter, just like everyone else. You didn’t mind his loud laughter this time. It was rather infectious, actually.

Rather… almost charming…

People kept on signing up for the try-outs.

You could see how Ben was excited at the thought, and you were happy for him. You had decided after that lunch to bury the hatchet for the afternoon. And he seemed to have taken the same decision. He didn’t sigh when you dropped the kettle and there was water all over the place. He didn’t say anything when you ‘organized’ the table, making the paperwork even more of a mess. He didn’t complain when you answered enthusiastically to the students’ craziest ideas. Instead, he remained silent, and he helped you clean the water you had spilled all over the floor as you apologized profusely, and he reorganized the piles of documents after you were gone looking for God knows what, and he nodded when you looked at him with an expectant glance.

It had been a nice day. He didn’t want to kill the mood.

Besides… he kind of liked it when you laughed that much…

It did not mean that he wasn’t annoyed. He was simply not complaining about it, or letting it show. Huge difference, an important one...

He looked at you as you grinned at a first-year student who was asking you something about the auditions. He wasn’t sure what this girl was asking though. He wasn’t paying attention. He was just… lost in thought… looking at you…

The afternoon passed, turned into the beginning of an evening. It was sunny and bright for a long time, and then artificial lights replaced our sun. Your throat was sore after speaking so much, and you felt very comfortable now, always answering the same questions. The words came out of your mouth naturally now, because you had spoken them so many times.

You proudly stared at the long list of names you had gathered along the afternoon. Many wanted to join…

“About… 60% of the people who have signed up today will come to the actual auditions,” Ben warned you. “But… that still makes a lot of people.”

“We did good, don’t you think?”

“Yes, we did good.”

“So… the musicals were not such a bad idea, right?” you asked with a teasing tone and a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“No… not too bad,” Ben admitted.

“So… I was right.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

But you grinned all the same, and a smile tugged at his lips…

You were so annoying…

Ben and you wanted to share one last meeting with the students, making sure everyone had written down the date for the auditions, making sure that all were going to think about which musical you should perform this year…

But your phone rang as you were cleaning the table you had borrowed in a classroom nearby, like all the other clubs filling the hall. It was a large space, with old stone pillars and white walls that had been painted not too long ago. There were many clubs gathered in the hall, and even though the students were gone already, many people were still filling up the large space, as club members were packing their things and cleaning up. You checked your screen, and frowned hard when you saw the name of your babysitter appear in white, luminous letters.

You felt a sudden worry crush your heart. Was there a problem with Sally?

“You’re alright, Y/N?” David asked with a frown.

“Yes, I just have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

Ben frowned hard as he saw you walking away, hurrying towards the exit. You seemed worried as you pressed your phone against your ear.

“What’s going on?” he asked David.

“Don’t know. She got a phone call. Didn’t seem to be good news.”

Ben slowly nodded, checking his watch. It was about seven thirty. Nothing good ever came from impromptu phone calls received so late in the evening…

He looked at you as you started pacing in front of the open door. You were too far for anyone in the hall to hear you, but you could still be seen. You quickly went from worried to angry, it was pretty obvious, even from afar.

Ben refrained his urge to join you outside and ask you what was wrong. It was none of his business, after all. He didn’t like you at all. You were insufferable. Why would he want to know anything at all about you? Why would he check on you to see if you were okay?

He kept an eye on you while cleaning up the table, and let two students carry the furniture back to its rightful place in a classroom down the hall. Meanwhile, he kept on looking at you from time to time…

When you finally put your phone away, you didn’t walk back to the building just yet. You remained outside for a moment. You were too angry. Too frustrated. You remained there for a while, your back to the hall, looking at nothing in the distance as the sun was setting. The sky was just beginning to turn from blue to gold. You would have liked this sight, of grass stretching towards tall buildings made of stone, and trees reaching out for the sun in the distance, while the world took a golden shade… but you were too angry to admire the view.

You jumped when a deep voice behind you called for your name.

You turned in a hurry, and were surprised to find Ben standing there, on the threshold. He was staring at you, a few meters away. As if he wanted to keep his distance. As if he didn’t dare coming closer; but he was leaning forward as if he wanted to.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a frown full of worry badly hidden across his brow.

You nodded. There was no need to tell your colleague – the one you didn’t even like – about your asshole of an ex-husband.

“Yes, I just… I’m terribly sorry but I have to leave. I have a problem with my daughter.”

“Oh… is she alright?”

“Yes, she’s fine but… I just need to go.”

“Okay.”

You frowned hard. You thought he would get pissed. You thought he would, at the very least, be annoyed. But he wasn’t.

“You… you’re not mad?” you asked, taken aback.

“Why would I be?”

“I’m leaving when you still need my help…”

“Your daughter needs you. I don’t have children, but it doesn’t mean I’m a complete jerk.”

He gave you a small smile, and you offered him the same gesture.

He truly was full of surprises today. You wondered what had gotten into him. He had been nice. Annoying, but nice. As he looked at you walking away, he wondered why you were so nice today. Annoying, but nice. The thought that perhaps you were always like this crossed his mind. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all…

***************************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

alcoholism fairies and bad decisions

drunk dean calls to tell cas they're going to end up together. eventually. wc: 2k

"Hi, hic , Cas."

Castiel, on his end of the call, puts his mug down on the counter. Icy cold coffee, with froth on the top. If Dean hadn't called him out of the blue, he would probably have sent him a picture of it in guise of documentation - or, well, to get him to tell him how much he wished to be there and drink it with him. If Dean hadn't called him drunk, he would at least have asked him to wait until he took a picture, with the froth all perfect and frothy. 

Given the circumstances, however, he sits down, and nets his eyebrows in a frown. 

"Dean? You okay?" 

Drunk calls weren't that rare, but they were usually pre-planned. Or at least, you know, he’s aware Dean’s drinking when it happens. 

"Oh!" Dean says, voice too bright and too loud. It’s like he’s somewhere that’s making it echo. "Of course. I'm drunk." 

"I can tell." Cas rolls his eyes, for absolutely no one's benefit. His coffee grows warmer, untouched. "Where are you?"

A hum resounds. "So - it's not my room. I can tell that much." 

"What the -” Cas swears under his breath. “Who're you with?" 

"Friends." Dean says, dismissively. "I'm safe, it's all safe. Familiar faces. I just came away for a bit because I wanted to talk to you." 

At that, Cas finally lightens. Stirs his cup (still admiring). "Uh-huh?" 

Friends wouldn't be enough to describe what they were. And yet - it was what either of them would've said. Rather, convinced themselves to say. 

They were the video-call-at-three-am, watch-the-worst-movie-known-to-man, a-football- match-just-afterwards-where-they-root-for-the-wrong-team and go-to-bed-consoling-each-other kinda friends. The kind who had nothing in common - from colleges, to friends, to hopes and dreams - but still let themselves be strung along for the ride and stuck together for whatever it counts. Texting day-in, day-out - with any excuse to think of the other person kinda friends. And the kind who didn't even get weird about girlfriends and boyfriends - which, well, both had, respectively - because they knew nothing would ever change what they had - and nothing could ever come close. 

At one point, they'd come close to dating. At two different points, they'd had larger-than-life cruhes on each other. And now? Now they just danced this familiar dance around each othis, toeing blurry lines - hands-tied behind their backs at risk of twirling too close and falling indubitably into each othis's arms.  

Oh, and they lived half a country apart. Thise was also that. 

"Uh-huh." Dean repeats, definitively. Then, more distracted, "Cas, the whiskey today, I swear to god . I should go get more." 

"You sound pretty whiskey-ed already, just FYI." 

"And you sound jealous." 

"Dude, I have coffee. The Castiel-Novak special, with the expensive kind of cream and all that schtick, because Gabriel just visited." He smirks. "I do not want to be drinking evil-tasting liquid hellfire right now, thankyouverymuch ." 

"Jea-lous." He sings, and Cas scoffs. 

Dean hiccups again, almost like he'd forgotten he was having hiccups for a while, and then remembered again, now that there was a lull in the conversation. 

"Oh, boy." 

"Dean, you okay?" Cas raises his eyebrows, repeating himself. Something sounded different about that oh boy. Not very average-drunk Dean, no, it wasn't. Cas is more or less a connoisseur by now. And he prides himself on it.

"I think so." 

"How do you feel now?" He asks, bordering the line of concerned again.

"Strangely happy." 

There's obviously a smile in his voice when he says it. Cas smiles too. "Oh. Why?" 

"'Cause I figured something out today, Cas." Dean didn't pause for questions, went on rambling. "Realized we're going to end up together. It’s final. And it's a strangely happy thought." Before Cas could say a thing, "Uh, I guess thoughts can't be happy. Or unhappy. The thought made me happy. Or not unhappy. Yeah, that makes more sense. I think." 

Cas just blinks. A warm feeling starts spreading in his chest that he doesn't exactly know how to define. Or, worse, confine . "How'd you figure that out?" 

Another smile in his voice, and this time, Cas can picture exactly what he looks like. Knowing, crinkled eyes, lips curled, head just a little bit quirked. (They'd only met once - a whopping 10-hour first-’non-date’-date that'd been, story for another time - but they'd been through enough movie nights at this point for him to know his I-know-what-happens-and-you-don't look.) "I'm not going to tell you." 

"Wh—"

"Because, you're not drunk . So you won't get it." 

"So the fairies of alcoholism and bad decisions deigned this upon you, did they?" 

"Maybe." He draws out the vowels. "Point is, I know it's true. End up together, you, me. Eventually. Boom." 

"Is that the sound of us having sex?" Cas snorts. The warmth has concentrated in his stomach, making it feel fluttery. He doesn't want to dwell on it too much - because he's so clearly drunk, and he has Jimmy - and things are not even that bad with him right now, really - but. But it’s not like he’s ever known how to not feel things when it comes to this dumbass. 

"I know you think you're kidding," Dean interrupts him, seriously. "But you're not that far from the truth. Keep seeking it."

"The truth of the sound of us — okay. Slightly too much alcohol for you, Dean." 

"Mmm-hm." Dean hums again. "Wait and watch." 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Cas mumbles, out of habit. 

He knows this isn't exactly a normal conversation for them to be having - but he also can't say that it isn't something that has crossed his mind in the past. 

All that chemistry - all those times he’s been complaining about something and he’s known just the right thing to say, or do, or be - and then there was that one time that they met. Cas still can’t get it out of his head. He’s always had a good memory - but this is a different level of good. Maybe it’s not entirely normal to remember what it felt like to hug his friend at the train station before he left. How they fit just right against all of you. Only maybe. 

But then, it’s also impossible, right? They live hours away - and are certainly both the clingy, affectionate kind of fools who may think they can ace long-distance-relationships but are doomed from the beginning. Of course they are. Plus, he knows Dean has a girlfriend. And he has Jimmy. So yeah, things are fine right now - they’re safe, they’re innocent, okay, they’re half-innocent , half-kidding-themselves, but they’re safe and nothing is fucking them up right now. Because Cas, well, he can’t stand to lose his. 

It doesn’t matter how easy it’d be to remove Dean from his life tangibly since he’s barely there at all, outside of one of his top three chats on WA at all times, and the ever-so-occasional co-movie-marathoner — none of that matters, except from the fact, that two years into this strange friendship, and he’s forgotten what life was like, before. But in a good way. In a healthy, he-gets-him, matching-wavelengths-of-weird, tries-to-make-him-a-better-person-sometimes kind of way. 

So yeah, he can’t say the thought of a relationship hasn’t crossed his mind. He can’t even say that it’s ever really stopped crossing his mind. But Cas can’t have nice things, can he?  

"It's an omen ." 

Cas sighs. "You're so weird." 

"You love me." Dean justifies, as if somehow that makes him weirder than him. It might, but Cas doesn't want to think about that right now. 

"And you're a massive simp - as long as we're just stating facts." 

"I am." Dean sings, again. He sounds a lot mellower now. Tuckered-out would be the word, if he wasn’t all of twenty one. He sounded ready to drift off to sleep, like that forecast had tired him out entirely. A classic drunk-Dean move, Cas rolled his eyes. "And you love me." 

"Yeah, I do." He admits, a little quieter and is encouraged by another mmm-hm . 

"Okay. I love you too." Scuffling sounds, as if he's getting up. Something clutters and falls, sounding queerly like stationery. So he's not outside, then . Probably in, like, a closet or something. The sound of a knob follows, and then, when he speaks, it's a lot less echo-y — with the contrast, Cas can definitely pin it to the previous place being a closet. "I'm going to go back to my friends. Amara's here too, uh, I'm definitely being rude." 

(The girlfriend. Not an altogether bad person but severely, severely undeserving of him. 

Dean had to know that too.)

"It's fine. You’ll make it up to them." Cas consoles, trying to avoid the strange hollowness in his gut at the mental image of him cosying up next to Amara, drunk, trying to make it up to her - okay, that’s never come up before. 

(Not in this magnitude, at least.)

"Yeah, I will." he laughs. "G'night, buddy." 

"Yep." Only a little miffed, Cas repeats it. "G'night." 

"Don't forget, okay?" 

Cas knew he'd be lucky if Dean didn't forget this entire conversation in the morning. But he didn't want to push the conversation any longer and make it weird - for him, or for Amara . "I'll try not to, but not making any promises." Dean makes a sound of affectionate disapproval, and then there's the familiar holler in the backdrop, of a group of ‘friends’ - rewelcoming his to their midst. 

And that's that, for the night. 

Cas stares at his coffee, now almost irritatingly room-temperature-d. Finishes it off in a gulp, while staring at his phone for good measure. Maybe the fairies of caffeinism and moderately-okay decisions would grace him with a visit, but it didn't seem very likely. Dean also doesn’t text for the majority of the night, except a view-once image of Amara's roommate licking a beer bottle (he’s made generally unfunny jokes about setting Cas up with the roommate in the past, probably playing off of that) and Cas replies righteously with eggplant emojis. He then sends a goodnight, at like six am, when Cas has already worn himself out with thoughts - and their annoying brethren, feelings - and passed out on his own couch. 

Many years later - many Amara's and Jimmy's, moving-apart’s and mildly-closer’s, more degrees and a few salaries later - it happens. 

(Of course, it does.)

Dean claims to have known all along. Sunday morning, breakfast-ing in bed with bread-and-jam and Castiel-Novak-specials, Dean solemnly swears he’d seen it coming. Not that he’d gone out of his way to jeopardize anything else for it, nope, but that he’s always known. “ Seriously .”  

Cas laughs. Turns out, Dean didn't forget everything after all. But he did forget the call - too many inebriated misadventures in one night to recall life-changing conversations, of course - and Cas doesn't think he’ll tell him yet, that he’d known it equally long himself. Not right now , when Dean's half in his arms, Cas is halfways to shirtless, and they’re half a minute away from carefully sliding the plates and novelty mugs away to commence a different, but equally compelling Sunday-morning ritual altogether. And not when he’s this thrilled to be acting like a prophesier, an unbearable, inevitable all-knower, and the apparently- destined love of his life. 

Maybe, maybe some other time. 

[brighteststar707]

Congrats for reaching 300 follower milestone! Truly happy for you Faye. For the prompt, I'm requesting Jumin + gummies please!

Thank you, Xela! I appreciate you so much <333

Slots still open for the milestone event!

✧Gummies ~ Comforting someone

There are few limits to Jumin’s capabilities. His money, his intellect, his influence are all things that allow him to navigate the world in a way few others can, and it’s something he is well aware of. He enjoys a certain level of control over his life that others do not. When he proposed to you and offered you the world, he meant it.

So, when he comes home after work one day to find you upset by something, he is ready to deliver on that promise.

On the outside, everything looks normal. You greet him with your same smile, ask him the same questions you usually do about his day, but he can tell that you’re just going through the motions, pushing aside your feelings to not worry him. When he goes to the bedroom to change and freshen up before dinner, you don’t follow him as you usually do so you can keep chatting.

Left to his own devices, Jumin starts running through the different approaches he can take to help cheer you up. He might not know what it is that’s plaguing you, but he has several people on call who could be helpful. He has always been complimented on his problem-solving skills. It’s a simple process to him: lay out the problem clearly and tackle it piece by piece. There isn’t anything out of his reach.

It’s that mentality that he keeps in mind as he returns to the living room. If he can, he’d like to take your pain into his hands and make it disappear as quickly as possible. You shouldn’t have to deal with anything unpleasant.

You’re tucked up in a corner of the sofa, still silent. He hates that he can feel the absence of you in the penthouse, even as you’re still here. One of the first differences he noticed when you moved in with him is that you brought so much life into his home. It was partly him getting used to living with another person and partly his own emotions changing the way he perceived things. Since living with you, everything has felt warmer, more alive. Your presence is felt in the music that always seems to be playing, in the quiet tap tap tapping of your keyboard when you're busy or the extra colourful pairs of shoes left haphazardly next to his. On days like this, though, it seems like all that life disappears with you, leaving the penthouse feeling cavernous and empty.

Even though he made no effort to be quiet when entering the living room, you haven’t moved an inch. He comes around the sofa to kneel in front of you, so he can look at your face properly.  

“Darling, you’re uncharacteristically quiet today. Is there something bothering you?”

You sit still for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’ve heard him, but then you slowly nod your head, like you're coming out of a reverie. 

“I thought so. What can I do to fix it? Ask anything of me, my love, let me be useful.”

He pulls out his phone, ready to start making calls, but you reach out for his hand and hold it still in yours.  

“Jumin wait - that’s… not what I need.”

“Oh?” He asks, perplexed. There isn’t anybody else around the building at this time of the night that might be able to help.

You squeeze his hand, and he looks at you again. You look so tired, so different from your usual self, it sends a pang of worry through him.   

“Can you just stay here with me for a little while?”

That’s it. It’s so simple it catches him off guard for a second. But he is not one to deny you anything, so he sits next to you on the sofa hesitantly. He opens his arms to you, and you settle into his embrace.

“This is all I can do for you? Are you sure?”

 He feels you nod against his chest. “I know that this feels futile to you, Jumin, but yes.”

He chuckles. “It’s like you can read my mind sometimes. There is so much I can offer you, and this is all you ask for?”

“You’re all I need.”

He isn’t sure what to reply, becoming acutely aware of a fluttering in his chest. You have this way of surprising him that he is sure he’ll never get used to. Even in these quiet moments, the simplest phrases from you have the ability to catch him off guard.

He tightens his arms around you. If this is what makes you feel better, he’ll make sure to hold you close for as long as you need him to, even if he doesn’t understand it.

For a while, you stay together that way in silence, just enjoying each other’s warmth.

Comforting people has never come easily to Jumin, though not for lack of care or trying. He cares deeply for the people around him, it only seems like they speak different languages sometimes. For all his strengths, this weakness is one he's insecure about. As much as he likes holding you close, feeling your steady breaths against his body, he wonders if it could possibly be enough, if somebody else couldn't do a better job.

Eventually, you break the silence, derailing his train of thought.

“Do you remember the threads?” You ask.

The threads. The name be had given to the tangled mess of repressed emotions that he had suffered under for most of his life. Until he found the courage to open up to you, and you welcomed his vulnerability with open arms.

“I do,” he answers, wondering where your line of questioning is going.

“Do you remember how we got through that?”

He thinks for a moment, before replying, “It was all you. I was lost in the tangled mess and you came and saved me.”

“I didn’t, darling. You were always capable of getting yourself out of that place. All you needed was some empathy and support. You’re the one who untangled the mess in your mind, all I did was hold your hand.”

He goes quiet. You continue.

"I appreciate how much you want to help me, but sometimes I don’t need things to be solved for me, I just need someone to hold my hand and endure it with me,” you continue.

It feels too easy. At the same time, he remembers those early days of emotional turmoil he experienced the first time the two of you met. The things that endeared you to him first were your patience, your refusal to mock him whenever he showed any sign of emotion. Your hand in his, reminding him that you always were - still are - there for him. It meant more than he could put into words.

“In that case, I’m here to endure," he says. It's something he'll do gladly for you, as many times as you need him. "...as long as you promise to also tell me when you have a problem that I can throw my money at.”

This earns him a quiet laugh, the kind that makes him feel all warm inside. He wonders if it’s wishful thinking, or you’re already sounding a bit better.

“Deal."

[bluereo]

Hello! I’m a big fan of your “Megatronus - The Fallen AU”. There’s not a lot of work of Orion Pax/Optimus Prime being the 13TH Prime reincarnation; so I’m happy to read your work about it! Any way about the prompts, can you do #1 with Megatronus Prime meeting/talking to Megatron about Optimus? Megatronus being all Big Brother Mode and willing to end Megatron for what him done to his brother? Thank you and good luck on your finals!

I'm more then happy that you like my au! I'm aware that this took me some time and it's rather short but I hope you will enjoy it :)

Ps. If you see some spelling mistakes pls correct me. I don't have beta reader

#Prompt 1 - Thouch him and you are dead.

It's been barely a week since Optimus returned from Cybertron with his older brother. Sudden arrival of demigod made everyone feel a little unease. Especially Lord Megatron felt strange even watching interactions between Fallen and His Prime. The Fallen was personification of pride and had everything that a warrior needed, his steps were loud, his eyes always observed everyone around him.

It wasn't unexpected that Megatron felt cold creeping though his limbs when Second Prime approached him late at night. They were on deck of Nemesis, silence interrupted only by thunders from stormy clouds and near soundless vents of both mechs.

- I hope that I'm not interrupting in anything important, Name thief. - Megatronus nearly purred at the and. Demigod loved to underline that they share this cursed name.

- Of course not, Fallen. To what do I owe this pleasure of your company tonight . I thought that you prefer to spend time near autobots instead of me or my crew. - Megatron choose to let himself look at horizon. There was no point of meeting gaze of the other.

- There is an issue I need to discuss with you. Still, this... exchange of information should stay only between us. - Megatron felt that demigod was pearcing his helm with his gaze. However, he have done nothing to change that for now.

- Then talk, I'm all audioreceptors. What is soo important that you choose to came here in person.

Sudenly there were steps. The Fallen stood right next to him. Finally their gazes crossed and Megatron could only think of how dangerous this mech was.

- I am aware of your... relationship with my brother. I have been watching you since two of you made your vows under the black sky and shining moons of our home planet.

- It's been milenia ago. Get to the point - the amount of strange calmness around fallen had the exact oposite reaction from megatron. Ex-gladiator could feel his fight protocols come to life, cannon geting slightly warmer and vision becoming sharper. He was ready to defence if the demigod decided to strike.

- Now you are on a good way to achieve peace between yourselves and your people. But I need to warn you. - Sudennly Megatronus grabbed Megatron by shoulder and made him turn himself fully to look in the optics of demigod from very close.

- You don't deserve to even be in the same room as Orion. He is one of the kindest sparks even between gods and demigods. And you have caused him more pain than you could ever imagine. And if I see your claws on him once again. There is nothing that will stop me from draging your spark, body and mind stright to the pit where you belong. Thouch him again and you are dead. I will make sure that will be very painful death... - Megatron was completly paralyzed. Especially when claws of demigod slowly made their way to lay on his chest plate not so far from where his spark was.

Megatron couldn't remember when he felt so scared in his entire life. Looking in the optics of being capable to fight with God's... He felt smaller then ever before.

Eventually Megatronus stepped back from ex gladiator and smiled like nothing ever happened.

- Well, I hope my massage was clear enough for you to understand. I will leave you to think about it - and with those words Fallen made his way of the deck.

Megatron still felt shivers going down his spine. He understood massage clear enough to be cautious. But there is no one and nothing that will separate him from his bonded.

[modern-vellichor]

good communicators.

-summary; you and marc aren't good communicators. -warnings; smoking, angst. -a/n; i am a marc gal thru and thru. I <3 Marc spector.

You stood, shivering, outside of the bar. Your friend had since abandoned you. Rather typical of her. It still hurt, especially since you hardly ever went out. Your fingers shook as you raised the cigarette to your lips. Stress smoking, a terrible habit. You were about to begin the walk to your flat when an unfamiliar voice interrupted your train of thought.

"You're difficult to find."

"Who are you?"

The man smiled at you. He kept his distance but offered his hand for you to shake. He looked tired, but there was an air about him that made you want to trust you.

"Marc Spector."

"That's some name, Marc."

"I know. I've been looking for you."

"Could've stopped by my office. My office hours are public information, every tuesday-"

"Wednesday and Friday," he finished. "I know. That felt a bit impersonal, too professional. I needed to ask you a favour, a personal one."

You gazed at him. He never came any closer to you, always three steps away. If you moved closer, he stepped back. He looked tired, but he stood tall, his head high. He was dressed nicely, his coat looked warm. He smiled at you again, but it looked strained. He was definitely tired, probably frustrated, and needed your help.

"What do you need?"

"Your opinion, your advice. I want you as a consultant of sorts."

"Consultant of what?"

"Let me buy you a drink, professor."

That was all it took. Marc bought you one drink and it was like you two had been bonded for life. You spent nearly every free moment with him. Marc had become your friend. He had explained his situation. You understood, but it was still difficult. You would have all of Marc's attention for a few days, and then he'd disappear for a few. Recently though, that had changed.

"Marc," you call. "I'm home."

He usually stayed in your flat during the day. He liked it there, less sand. Warmer, tidier. Just as many books, but less stacked on the coffee table.

"Hey," he grinned.

Things were going too good. Marc had been fronting for nearly two weeks. He was getting angsty. Steven was bound to want out soon. He didn't know about you. You tried to talk Marc into letting you meet Steven. Just letting you meet him, get Steven used to you. Then maybe Marc could move in here. Marc always said no, and he'd run back to Steven's flat and return a few days later.

"I got a few things on the way home," you mumbled nervously.

Marc heard the hesitation in your voice. His face dropped, but you couldn't see it. He put on a smile as he rounded the corner into the living room. He watched as you laid the contents of your bad on the table. Blue tape, a jar of sand, a few second hand books.

"I, uh," you couldn't bring yourself to meet Marc's gaze. "I couldn't find an ankle restraint, I think that's a job for amazon."

"no."

"Marc, please."

"No."

Whenever you brought up the topic, it always escalated. It always ended in a screaming match. Marc never hit you, but you always knew it was coming. You would scream, he would storm into your bedroom, and you would cry and smoke by the window in the living room. By the time you finished your cigarette, he would be leaving for Steven's flat and you wouldn't see him for days.

You had a long day. Your students were being difficult. The Egyptology department's funds were being cut. Your office hours ran long. You didn't want to argue. You were tired and frustrated and a little sad. You traipsed into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine. Marc watched as you prematurely sat yourself on the windowsill to light a cigarette. You sighed as smoke poured over your lips.

"Sweetheart, you know why you can't meet him. Steven'll shit himself."

It only went downhill from that. Your cigarette lay abandoned in an ashtray, your wine long forgotten too. You paced around the living room, arms raised defensively as you screamed. Your neighbour had given up on banging on the walls, you couldn't hear him over the argument. You turned away from Marc and covered your eyes while you ranted.

"I just can't believe you're so fucking stubborn. Sometimes I think you're just trying to piss me off!"

You didn't hear Marc go quiet.

"You're just ridiculous. Can't do this, can't do that. If I was allowed to tell my friends about you, they'd tell me to fucking leave you, y'know that?"

"Leave me?"

Marc's voice was quiet and meek. It was afraid. It wasn't Marc's voice at all. You turned around, eyes wide. Your hands fell to your side. Steven gazed back at you.

"Oh, my God."

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Marc's," you stutter out. "Oh, my God. Steven, I'm so sorry."

You take a few tentative steps towards him. Steven seems too frightened to move. You offer a hand. He half heartedly reaches for it. He takes your hand and you gently tug him closer to you.

"I didn't mean to shout at you, Marc and I were arguing. I'm so sorry, Steven."

"You know Marc?"

You nodded.

"You're the college professor?"

You nodded again. Steven mumbled something and nodded along with you. You opened your arms to offer a hug. Steven fell against you. You carded your fingers through his hair and stroked a hand up and down his spine. He sniffled against your shoulder as he calmed down. You maneuvered him to the couch as you cleaned up around him.

"I can uh, take you home," you offered as Steven stared off into the distance. You picked the tape and sand up from the coffee table and handed them to him. "Or you could stay?"

Steven stared at you. He took the jar from you, inspecting it.

"I know it's not much, and I couldn't find an ankle restraint or anything."

"Marc told you?"

"I asked."

Steven nodded. He stood and moved through the apartment. Marc's voice guided him to your room. The moonlight shone into the room through a gap in the curtains. It was a small bedroom, but cozy. Books were stacked in piles on the floor, the blankets were messy but inviting. You followed Steven wearily.

"Can you, erm," he held the tape out for you to take.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," you grinned, nearly running through the apartment to tape your front door.

When you returned a thin circle of sand had been sprinkled around your bed. Steven gazed longingly at the pillows. You coaxed him into bed and then moved to settle into an armchair in the corner of the room. Steven raised his eyebrows at you. You didn't want to push him, and he was too nervous to ask for your company. So you fell asleep like that, curled into the armchair.

Marc shot up at three in the morning. He croaked out your name as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He was confused when he felt the sand under his feet. He called out for you again and this time you woke up. You carefully picked your way over to Marc. You stood between his open legs and cradled his head against your chest.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Marc nearly brought up Steven. He didn't want to though. And so he kept his mouth shut and pulled you into bed with him. He kept his head against your chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. He listened to your heart and you breathing as you fell asleep again.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered.

You heard it, just barely. But you decided not to bring it up.

You and Marc were simply not good communicators.

[systlin]

Hi! First, I haven't seen much posting from you on my dash in a while; I hope you and yours are doing ok.

Second, feel free to ignore, but I've come to you because you are someone I know lives in IA and seems to like it, and you have a way with life advice, to put it mildly:

I've been offered a job in IA (Pella, specifically, cos that may matter--at Central, even more specifically) and, honestly, I don't know how I feel about it. SO: What are some of the best things about living/working in Iowa? Right now, I'm worried because Pella (and the college) specifically is really Christian and conservative. That's not new to me, but it's REALLY blatant there. Since you are leftist and a pagan, I thought you might have a lens from which to approach that to make it less, well, isolating, I suppose. I also think you are the person who posts about Winter Preparedness sometimes, and I definitely need some encouragement about that cos where I'm from is cold but dry and I dunno what to do with feet of snow. But, mostly, I'd just feel better knowing all the "pros" to put in my pro/con list.

Thank you!

Best things about living/working in Iowa; cost of living. It's dirt cheap here. We've built so many wind turbines that electricity prices here are dirt fucking cheap. Property is also dirt cheap. We paid 23K for our house. It needed work, but still. 23 THOUSAND FOR A WHOLE ASS HOUSE WITH A YARD.

Also, it's pretty here. In a rural, agricultural sort of way. I love it here.

Also consider; this is the area you want to be to weather climate change. The way it will affect the midwest is warmer winters and more precipitation. I wish this was not the case, but it is, and the fact of the matter in brutal truth is that we'll fare better here than in the southwest or south.

Cons; it does in fact tend to be fairly conservative. Though sometimes surprisingly progressive...we were one of the first in the nation to legalize gay marriage, before even bastion of progressivism California...you'll see a lot of Trump signs. This could, of course, be changed if enough progressives made their way here. I'm working on it in my corner of IA.

Winters are harsh, but tbh you get used to them quickly. Invest in a good coat and driveway salt and you'll be OK. Sadly, with climate change we'll likely be facing less harsh winters in the future.

[totaltotty]

Lost In You

Kratos x reader

Currently no trigger warnings

Part 1 of ?

The wind whispered in the dark of the snow-covered cabin. It had been over a year since Atreus’ path had branched off from his father's, and Kratos grew weary as time passed. The light dissipated from his eyes as the loneliness crept up on him. Yes, there were visitors, Freya and Mímir, Tyr, and even Sindri made the occasional appearance to visit the spartan. None of which could quell the ache of his son being away. Day trips helped, but at night, Kratos’ only friend was silence.

Alternatively, (y/n) was surrounded by happiness. The valkyries had finally rebuilt after Odin’s corruption and were thriving under Freya’s guidance. (y/n) was glued to Freya’s hip after Ragnarok. Being the Goddess of Healing, she helped the poor humans that were injured because of Odin’s “plan” to stop the war from occurring. So many people perished and it broke (y/n)’s heart to see so much death and destruction. Nonetheless, the process of rebuilding Asgard was a tasking challenge that was stressful for everyone involved.

Freya had suggested (y/n) take the day and run errands with her. Of course, the Valkyrie would jump at the chance to do anything other than hoist walls or train from dusk to dawn.

“Asgard is almost complete” Freya stated as she handed (y/n) a basket filled to the brim with Mead, bread, cheese, and butter.

“Aye, my lady. It's becoming as beautiful as it once was. It's so sad that Odin’s arrogance ruined so much history.” (Y/n) responded, slipping the basket onto her forearm. “May I ask, Where are we traveling to with this much food?”

“An old friend. His son is due back any day now and I'm sure he has no food to celebrate his return” Freya chuckled slightly at the thought of Kratos going shopping or even baking his own bread. “I think you'll enjoy the celebration.”

(Y/n) smiled brightly. “Of course! If I had to spar with Thrud again, I would simply perish. She has gotten so strong.” They walked in sync to The World Tree, and crossed into Midgard.

“I must collect some items from my home here before we continue.” freya started heading towards her cottage. The cold nipped at (y/n)’s ears and nose. She held herself close, so surprised by how cold Midgard was. Fimbulvetr had left its toll on the land and while it was getting warmer on Midgard, it was still freezing in comparison to Asgard. (Y/n)’s frozen breath was something new for her to behold. The last time she was on Midgard was when she was little. The snow had begun melting, leaving pools of water and little sprouts peeking their way through. After three long years, life was finally returning to the wasteland. Deer and their fawns pranced through the woods, rabbits whose fur was white for the winter were shedding into a dirty brown again.

Upon reaching Freya’s cabin, she entered and rustled about, leaving (Y/N) with the sled packed with goods and even a beautifully wrapped gift. (Y/N) wondered what was in the box. She picked it up and ran her fingers along the birch paper, feeling the texture that the wood pulp had left. Freya had drawn little bears and wolves over the paper adding a personal touch.

Freya exited the cabin, holding a jar wrapped in a burlap rag among a few other odds and ends. She saw (y/n) holding the box and smiled. “It's for my friend's son. He's been away ever since Ragnorok ended. He's like... A son to me almost.” a twinge of sadness could be seen in her expression. (Y/N) knew the story of Baulder and felt sympathy for her companion. Losing a child is a pain she would not wish upon any soul.

“I'm glad he is returning home soon. It's been a long time since he left, I wonder how much he changed.”

“He's likely to have become a young man at this point. He was 14 when he left. So he's about 16 now...” Freya trailed off as she tucked the jar away into the sled. “Let's continue. We are running slightly behind so we should hurry.”

The two started on their path again and after some time, they arrive at their destination A small cabin with runes carved into the door frame and pillars. Some symbols weren't familiar to (Y/N). Freya knocked at the door and a tall, brooding man opened the door. He was draped in animal furs, scars covering his pure white skin with a red streak tattooed along his body. He had a beard that was peppered with white and black hairs indicating age as well as frown lines and crow's feet. (Y/N) gasped ever so lightly at the sight of him. She was both frightened and intrigued by him. Freya turned to the man and greeted him warmly.

“Kratos! Today is the day!” she smiled and placed her hand on (y/n). “We've brought gifts and food. I couldn't imagine you had much prepared.” Freya chucked before turning to (y/n). “This is one of my Valkyries, (y/n). (Y/n), this is Kratos.

“It is nice to meet you,” Kratos said, his voice gruff. He extended a hand to her. (y/n) took his hand and shook it firmly. Butterflies stormed through her stomach with his touch. The skin on his hands was rough and calloused, (y/n) noticed burn scars along his wrists, and couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

Kratos had invited the two women into his home, where a fire had already been built, and a teapot hanging above the flame. The room was warm and sparsely decorated with carvings. There were more unfamiliar marks on the walls. (Y/N) felt safe here. She thought that the markings must have something to do with it. Freya looked to the man once again. “So, Kratos, when is Atreus due back?” She asked, eagerly holding the gift box from earlier.

Kratos seemed to look eager at the mention of his son’s name. “Any moment now,” he said. (Y/N) had come to the conclusion that the man doesn’t speak much. Her eyes drifted to look at his figure as him and freya conversed. Kratos was quite attractive, she imagined what he would look like underneath his garments. He was already shirtless, his toned figure taking up every ounce of (Y/N)’s attention. It has been a very long time since (Y/N) could feel the touch of another person. Her body ached as she thought about him. The only thing that brought her out of her trance was Freya’s cold hand touching her cheek.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N). Are you okay? Your face is burning.” She says, moving to grab a cold rag. (Y/N) panicked, embarrassed by what was happening.

“Oh my. I apologize, my lady. I was lost in thought. I am sorry to have worried you.” (Y/N) felt like throwing up. She had embarrassed herself in front of not only her mentor, but a man that she had just met.

“Do not worry dear, it is okay. I am just glad you’re fine.” Freya took the rag from (Y/N)’s face. Kratos had pulled out some chairs from the table and the women took a seat.

“Would you like some tea?” Kratos asked. (Y/N) nodded and he placed a mug in front of her. The tea smelt delicious. It must’ve been something from the local flora. She observed the mug closely. It was obviously homemade, and it appeared to have a family peeking out from underneath the glaze. (Y/N) wondered if that was Kratos’ family. She felt another wave of embarrassment as she realized Kratos must be married. But where was his wife? No one had mentioned her yet. (Y/N) concluded that she must be with the son.

End Part 1

[evakuality]

4 years of Druck s3 - week 7

Things of note in this episode:

1.  This is probably my favourite episode and so this is likely to be lengthy!

2.  I really love how this conversation with Hans differs from the og.  In a lot of ways I prefer this one, unlike the one in episode 5.  In this, first, Matteo says ‘if it makes you happy’ he’ll call him his guru and I love that change in the dynamic.  Plus, I really do love that Hans is attuned enough to religion that he takes Matteo into church to have this conversation (and so Matteo’s mother does in a way see him in church that day).  I think it’s very important that a lot of Matteo’s issues about all this stem from religion and so taking him into a place of religion to demystify it is so important.  Also, Hans’s advice about David isn’t that he’s probably playing Matteo (as Eskild suggests to Isak), but that he’s probably not out and needs time and respect for that or to be left alone.  It resonates in a different way, and the fact that this religious breakthrough happens at Easter is a really lovely touch.  Plus we get the whole bit about Matteo’s mother, and he’s able to come to terms with her and her issues in a way that leaves him much calmer and more at peace.  Compare the above picture to this one from the start of the episode:

This earlier Matteo was so sad and he was at seas and all confused.  But at least he knew that going to Hans would help - and was able to do it even when Hans had been so upset with him before.  And kudos to Hans for seeing past all that and recognising that Matteo genuinely does need a gay guru and being that person for him.  This conversation has done exactly what Matteo needed it to and he’s so much happier and more at ease both with the David thing and with his mother.  

3.  Speaking of religion, this whole bit with Amira is a) so lovely and b) so important.  After their previous discussion, this has needed to be addressed and she does it in such a gracious way - which he returns.  I do think that without the chat with Hans he may have been less keen to hear what Islam thinks about homosexuality but together these two conversations have really helped him unpack some of his prejudices about religion, and he is far more willing and able to open up to hi9s mother with the hope that she won’t reject him.  I absolutely love that ‘for Easter’ Amira’s family has made some food to share, thus showing Matteo that religion can be open and accepting of other faiths, cultures and lifestyles.  Amira doesn’t just tell him she and her religion accept him, she shows him and it’s very powerful.  Even if her bringing outside food into a cafe worries me, since you’re absolutely not allowed to do it here.

4.  I really love the colours in this episode - they’re so much warmer and more cheerful than the previous ones.  Partly that’s because this was Easter and the colours work really well for that time of year.  But also because Matteo is starting to warm up and open up into his new self.  I am, once again, so impressed by the way light and colour is used in this show.  It’s just soooo goooooood.

I also love how much Carlos has grown - Kiki has such strong views and she wants everyone to agree with them.  In a lot of her life, people just don’t (I imagine Zoe must be such a stress for her, for example), but Carlos, who has been shown as a bit of a lad and quite ignorant and occasionally offensive, has taken it all on board and you can see it in the way he acts and the things he says now.  He enjoys his new knowledge and certainly has a lot of sensitivity to people and their relationships.  He’s the one who knew things were off with Matteo and Sara, and he’s the one who moves to listen actively to Matteo here and who says things he hopes are supportive and encouraging.

5.  Sara.  This poor kid.  We see here the culmination of everything that’s been going wrong in her life and it must have been so hard seeing Matteo in the midst of all this.  But I like to think that she feels lighter and happier after this is done.  We do know what she reaches out to Leonie after Matteo suggests that talking to people helps.  If we compare this picture of her to the way she was shown in s1 and even 2, she’s so diminished, shot from above and looks so weak and vulnerable.  Even compared to the social media post she made wearing this exact outfit, she looks different.  But it’s maybe like a wound being lanced - like Matteo she was trying to put up a facade, live a fake life in that earlier post.  But now she’s able to be real and yeah that hurts but it’s better and they will both be able to move on and be happier more authentic people in the aftermath.

6.  Speaking of hurting - Matteo makes so much great progress this episode and he’s able to become a happier and more settled person.  But at the core is this boy who misses the boy he thought he was creating something nice with.  He told Hans he ‘can’t believe’ that David doesn’t want him and I think that makes this even harder.  The pictures and videos David sends are sending him mixed messages.  On one hand, he’s keeping up the contact and trying to maintain something with Matteo - on the other, this stuff is all ‘it’s not you it’s me’ ‘in a different life we’d be in Detroit’ etc etc.  There’s no hint that things can be ‘real’ between them in this life and so Matteo keeps having these small moments of sadness throughout the episode.

7.  And so that’s why this whole part is tinged with a melancholy.  Unlike in other versions, there’s no passion here, no ‘throwing caution to the wind’ or anything.  Instead it’s so gentle and cautious, so fragile.  There’s a sigh of relief that David is here, but neither of them is at ease.  Of course, we start to understand David’s thing the next day.  But even here it’s so clear why Matteo feels the way he does - everything since David told him he’s not into him has been such a rollercoaster that it’s not possible for him to throw caution to the wind.  He’s felt so much sadness and heartbreak about David even this week that he can’t allow himself to fully dive into this moment.  And of course we’re left with this shot of David’s face and we get to see that he’s not happy either.  It’s a long long few hours til the next morning and David’s secret!

[thatesqcrush]

Second Chances

Joe Velasco x f! reader. A very belated Secret Santa gift for @plaidbooks. CW: implied smut. Mostly fluff. WC: 2,839.

AN: Thanks @beccabarba for giving it a read through.

AN2: Not sure who to tag for Joe folks. Umm @storiesofsvu @madpanda75 @dreamlover31 @witches-unruly-heart @detective-giggles... anyone else who wants to be tagged for Joe, send me a msg!

The biting, cold wind whipped harshly around Joe Velasco as he waited for the light to change, causing him to shiver. Despite having lived in New York his whole life, he much preferred a warmer climate. Summer was his favorite. He'd dressed in black, with his dark hair, and dark eyes and fashionable stubble, he looked every bit the New Yorker he was. Joe huddled in his peacoat, as if shrinking into himself would garner some warmth.

Just when Joe thought it wouldn't get any worse, delicate snowflakes began to fall from the vast white and gray sky. Plumes of smoke rose steadily from the grates before settling over the icy sidewalks. Joe grumbled and wrapped his scarf tighter around his face. The briefcase Joe had with him suddenly felt heavier than before.

The light changed from green to red and Joe hurried across the street. A dimly lit sign that belonged to a local greasy spoon caught his eye. Instead of heading straight to his destination, Joe decided to make a pit stop to grab a cup of coffee. He hated coffee but he was too cold to care.

As he entered the diner, he noted that it was barely at full capacity, leaving him with many options to sit. Joe took the chance to grab a booth in the back. As he settled in, he signaled a waitress to take his order.

The waitress barely had a chance to greet him before Joe barked out what he wanted. She hurried off, leaving Joe alone once more and with his thoughts. Moments later, a piping cup of black coffee sat in front of him.

As he stirred two spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee, Joe focused on the patrons who were occupying the diner at the moment before being distracted by the jingle of the bell over the diner entrance.

Another gust of wind entered the diner soon followed by the most strikingly beautiful woman Joe had ever laid eyes on. His spoon clattered loudly as it fell from the cup and onto the table. Your skin was slightly tinged pink due to the cold. You had a thick scarf on and a blue knit hat with a giant pom pom on it. An easy smile spread on your face as you shook the snow off.

"My Lord, it's cold out there!"

You had an accent but Joe couldn’t figure out from where. However, Joe found that he could look past the accent. 'It's not like the New York accent is any better.' he thought as he watched you continue to shake the snow off.

"You take a seat anywhere sugar; I'll be with you in a minute," the waitress called out.

"Coffee, cream and sugar, please. I'll be in the back," you had replied in turn to the waitress. The waitress nodded and you made your way to the back, with a large suitcase and bag in tow.

As you walked towards the back you made eye contact with Joe. His dark eyes probed yours and you smiled politely as you walked passed. A cup of coffee was quickly placed on your table and you thanked the waitress. You grabbed the sugar shaker and poured it heavily into your cup.

"That stuff will rot out your stomach," Joe retorted loudly, swearing to himself as he did so.

You turned to him, eyebrow perfectly arched, and pointed at his cup. "Isn't that hypocritical of you to say?" 

Joe let out a low chuckle and he extended his hand. "Joe Velasco.”

Your eyes narrowed and you didn't take his hand. You looked up and down at him, before letting out the breath you had been holding. You introduced yourself and gave him a small smile. This Joe person was nice on the eyes. But being a detective yourself, you wanted to suss this person out. 

"What brings you to New York? Business or pleasure?" Joe questioned as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Are all New Yorkers so nosey? Or are you just special?" you retorted.

Joe shifted in his seat uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "My apologies. I won't bother you again."

An awkward tension followed before anything more was said. There was a sound of a chair moving and Joe looked up to see you sitting across from him.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not from here." You replied apologetically, your tone much softer. "I'm here on business. I'm participating in a conference at Madison Square Garden."

Joe furrowed his thick brows. "Not the National Sexual Assault Conference?"

"That's the one!" You exclaimed. "Wait..." There was a pregnant pause. "How did you know?"

Joe reached into his pocket and revealed his badge. "I work for the NYPD. I'm a detective in the special victims unit."

You let out a smile and what seemed to Joe as a sigh of relief. "Same, but for [your city/town]."

"So I guess in a weird way you're close but far from home?"

"You could say that," you agreed, taking another sip of coffee. "It's my first time here in New York City."

Joe laughed a little more, letting his smile grow as he looked at you again, marveling at your beauty. He was literally transfixed on you. You cleared your throat, bringing him back to the surface and he centered his gaze back on his cup. The steaming liquid provided him with a distraction as he tried to get the conversation back on track.

"So, how are you liking New York so far?" he asked, as he stirred his coffee more.

"I like it, except for the weather. In [your city], it rarely gets below sixty, even in the winter, so this is something of a drastic change for me."

"I know what you mean," Joe responded as he sipped the coffee more. He found himself easing into a relaxed state, one he hadn't felt in a long time. It was as if he was catching up with an old friend. "I am more partial to summer. Give me all the high temps.”

Joe felt his stomach flutter, something which hadn’t happened in a long time. He wanted to see you again - and not just at the conference. "Well, how about this New Yorker take you to see all the sights, that is after the conference, of course."

"Are you asking me out on a date, detective?"

Joe found himself at a loss for words and he wracked his brain trying to find something clever to reply with.

"Tell you what," you said, pulling out a pen and writing on a napkin. "Give me a call when you are finished, and let's see what we can get into. Deal?"

Joe eyed the napkin and smiled, actually smiled fully at you, seeing your cheeks redden slightly. "Deal."

—-

Joe yawned as he approached the break room, a file in hand ready to give to Olivia. The conference - which occurred over a period of two days - was long and taxing.

If not for the memories of the night before coming back home, Joe would've said that the conference was a bust, but how wrong he was. One chance meeting with a stranger had changed everything for him.

He saw Olivia head his way, her dark eyes set in determination already. Joe could swear that the Captain probably woke up with that countenance. Chuckling to himself slightly, he prepared to hand off the file.

"Velasco," Olivia greeted, as she took the file, flipping through it, "How was the conference?"

"It was what it was. Good learning experience," Joe responded as he yawned again. "Other than that, it was a pretty run of the mill weekend."

Olivia smiled as she closed the file and glanced at her watch, "I need a favor. We have a new member of the team coming in today at JFK. Think you can swing by and pick them up? Muncy was supposed to but she called out sick.”

"I have a backlog of paperwork that I was hoping to catch up on…" Joe trailed off.

"It won't take long. The flight should be landing within the hour."

Joe let an irritated sigh escape as he looked at his own watch, trying to calculate his schedule. As it was, he was already behind on several things, but he knew he couldn't just leave Olivia hanging.

"Okay.” Joe reluctantly agreed.

"Good man," Olivia responded as she turned to walk away. "Make sure you bring her to see me when you get back."

Joe put a hand up to give a half hearted wave to Olivi as she disappeared through the corridor. His day just got worse, ten times worse. Another newbie. 'Great; just great.'

—

You sat on your oversized suitcase, looking in each direction for the SUV that you were told would be picking you up. Glancing at your watch, you sighed as you started to look at your nailbeds, wondering how long you would have to stand there before actually doing something about it. Just as you were about to get up and walk, you saw the hulking vehicle as it appeared in the line.

As the vehicle came closer, you stood up, dusting the back of your pants and reaching to grab your belongings. Perching your sunglasses on your head, you squinted at the driver, in an attempt to get a closer look of who they were, but found that you couldn't.

Joe’s jaw dropped and felt his heart race as he parked. 'It can't be; what are you doing here?'

But it was you. Memories of the night after the conference flashes through his mind once more – heated kisses, his hands on your hips, your hands running through his hair, your skin dewy from sweat… the moan of his name emanating from your lips.

Joe blinked rapidly, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He swallowed hard as he got out of the vehicle and approached you. "Hi."

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Joe and you could feel the color draining from your face. It had never occurred to her that New York detective that you had spent a passionate night with just days before would be the same man you would be working with. How could a city with over one million people seem so small?

"Joe!" You replied, attempting a brave smile as a sinking feeling began to settle over you. If this moment was indicative of your future in Manhattan, you were going to board the next plane out to home. "I…um... it's good to see you again. I had no idea that you and I-"

"It's alright," Joe interjected, his eyes darting past you and to your paisley print luggage. Joe eyed it curiously. It was hideous. "I didn't know either."

You didn't reply; you were unsure of what to say. Despite standing outside in the vast, spacious airport parking lot, you felt overwhelmed, as if there had been a giant pink elephant in the middle of them and no one was saying anything. Joe found himself once again breaking the silence just as he did before in the diner. He tilted his head in the direction of the SUV.

"Shall we?" he questioned as he reached past you to grab your luggage.

You attempted to protest his help but Joe paid no heed to her words. "Alright," you finally conceded. "Let's go." You buckled your seatbelt and settled against the passenger seat. The ride back was silent. You stared out the window and to the passing buildings and snow covered trees.

Joe watched you out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to say something – anything but he couldn't formulate the words. He had thought he would never see you again but here you were now. Joe wasn't sure if he was capable of surviving the work week with you and showing you the ropes when he knew you so intimately. Never mind the barriers of office politics.

'Working with her is definitely going to be interesting.'

The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted the day to be done and over with.

The throbbing, aching pain in his head hadn't subsided despite taking half a bottle of ibuprofen. After dropping you off with Olivia, Joe threw himself into his work in hopes that it would take his mind off of you. It hadn't worked. Instead, he found himself even further distracted. It was his luck; he reasoned that this would happen. He didn't necessarily find the situation to be bad at all; in fact, he was disappointed that you both had to part after spending the day – and better part of the night together.

You were unlike any other woman he had met. You were way too cheerful for his usual taste; however, he found himself making an exception. You were strong, sweet and sassy – all the qualities that he looked for in a woman. He only had one night with you but he found himself hooked.

Joe cracked his knuckles and tried to focus on the paperwork before him.

—

Joe slammed the door to his locker shut, glad that the shift was finally over with. As he began to pull his coat on, the sound of footsteps caused him to pause in his actions.

"Hey Joe. I thought I'd find you here."

Joe felt his chest tighten at the sound of your voice. He turned around and found you leaning against another set of lockers. He presumed you were trying to appear casual.

"Y/N, how was your first day?"

"Good, I’m really excited to hit the ground running.”

"Glad to hear it," Joe replied. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he rocked on his heels. "Something tells me that you're not here to talk about how your day went though."

You shook her head. "No; you're right." You stood straight and approached Joe. "I wanted to talk about that night… about us."

"Look, if you want to pretend it never happened," Joe sighed, feeling his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. "It's fine. I'm cool with it, but I can't just ig-"

"No! It's not that at all," you quickly rushed. "It's just that it took me by surprise. In New York, I wasn't expecting to see you again, so, I was a little…"

"Uninhibited?" Joe asked, the memory prompting an arching of his eyebrow and a smirk.

You giggled slightly, the tension that was between the two of you earlier, now seeming to dissipate. Your stance relaxed even more as you continued to smile at him, feeling something deep inside tugging at the strings of her heart. Could it be that you had fallen for him, after one night of passion? You pulled a stray hair behind your ear as you dropped your line of sight then brought it up slowly, registering that he was staring at you. Your cheeks reddened as you changed position and crossed your arms in front of yoi.

"Yeah, you can say that. So, where does it lead us?"

"Apparently, awkward moments," Joe responded as he leaned up against the opposite lockers, his demeanor a lot less stiff. Again, he found himself feeling as if he were catching up with an old friend instead of negotiating through new territory with a stranger.

"It doesn't have to be," you replied as you took a step closer to Joe. Placing your palms on his chest, you looked up at him. Your heart thumped wildly against your ribcage as you waited for his response.

Joe reached up to take your hands into his, drawing you closer as he did so. He stared into your eyes, searching. He murmured your name before pressing his lips to yours.

You gave yourself into the kiss, moaning quietly as you did so. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. Joe placed his hands on your lower back, in the space between the waistband of your pants and the bottom of your shirt. Your skin goosebumped beneath his touch and you pressed yourself closer to him. Joe let out a small grunt of satisfaction. You pulled away breathlessly moments later, licking your lips as she did so.

"Let's get out of here," Joe answered finally. "Get a beer or something…" 

Joe had never believed in fate before but he was starting to come around. He was starting to believe things happened for a reason. After all, had he not gone to the convention or decided to grab a cup of coffee, he wouldn't have had such an opportunity with you. Rules and work politics be damned; there was no way he was going to give up a second chance with you. Perhaps this was the best decision Olivia had ever made.

You hummed a bit before cocking your head to the door. You began to head out together, Joe’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you. He couldn't help but smile victoriously at your next sentence.

"Or something."

FIN.

[ahsoka-its-all-of-us]

For the last day of the @bahrynfestival I wrote a little thingy for the Get A Room prompt, using an idea that I scripted to be part of my Kalluzeb series quite early in the process. Featuring two idiots finally confessing and still not confessing their love for each other 😅

“Hello there!”

Zeb unsubtly kicked open the door to Alexsandr’s little office, letting himself in as usual.

Alexsandr flinched. “You know better than to startle me.”

“At least you’re not pulling a knife on me anymore” Zeb smiled at him. “I call that progress.”

“I call that disturbance of an officer in function” Alexsandr muttered, but he felt no real annoyance towards his friend.

“Anyway” Zeb said, as the door whooshed closed behind him. “Anyone order a personal space-heating Lasat?”

Hoth was a cold planet, but at least most of the buildings on Echo Base were reasonably warm. Alexsandr’s office, though, he kept barely above a proper liveable temperature, unwilling as he was to waste any Rebellion resources on something as insignificant as himself. Zeb had told him otherwise countless times, but he hadn’t been able to sway him, so instead he had seemed to take it as his personal mission to hug Alexsandr warm whenever he dropped by to say hi. Alexsandr didn’t mind that, not at all.

“Not me” he snorted, playing along. “I guess you’ve got the wrong room.”

“Oh, apologies, I’ll go check that out” Zeb said, turning to leave again.

Panic flooded Alexsandr’s mind. “No, no, wait!”

Zeb turned back around. “Yes?” he smirked.

But Alexsandr fell silent, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious as he realised that there was no way he could pretend that this thing between them was just a friendship anymore. As repressed as he was, he wasn’t stupid. He knew the way Zeb was acting towards him was on another level than with anyone else, even his family.

Zeb must have read his change in body language because his smirk fell ever so slightly, and in three long strides he had reached Alexsandr’s desk. “Aleks…?”

Alexsandr stood up, throwing his arms around Zeb’s neck without a word. Zeb immediately enveloped him with his own, and they stood like that for a long time, neither of them saying a word, just drinking in each other’s presence.

Eventually Zeb released him. “Warmer?”

“I have to say, on a base like this I’m glad to have my own space-heating Lasat” Alexsandr said, defaulting to his neutral, slightly sarcastic ISB voice in order to hide how his heart was hammering against his ribs as he tried not to jump right back into Zeb’s arms.

“No no, personal space-heating Lasat” Zeb chuckled. “As in I heat your personal space.”

“Oh” Alexsandr said, blushing as he quickly sat back down at his desk. Had he misread the situation? Did Zeb do this with everyone on base?

“… but I could be your personal personal space-heating Lasat” Zeb added. “If you want.”

Alexsandr’s heart stuttered to a halt in his chest. What had Zeb just said?

Were they still talking about Zeb’s function as a heater…?

Zeb looked at him expectantly, and he realised he had to say something.

“I…” he started, uncertain. “I would like that, yes.”

“Are you sure?” Zeb asked, a bright grin spreading over his face and lighting up his eyes. “You won’t easily get rid of me again.”

Alexsandr shrugged. “Not the most life-changing decision I’ve made” he muttered, attempting to deflect as he turned back to his work, even if his heart was vibrating inside him.

“True, Agent Kallus” Zeb emphasised. “Guess I’m yours then.”

He proceeded to lean down on top of Alexsandr’s head, lighting the latter’s cheeks on fire.

And Sabine chose that exact moment to come in.

Upon noticing the two of them, she rolled her eyes, smiling all the same. “Oh come on, get a room.”

“I believe we have” Alexsandr replied, not looking up from his work – he was certain he would only blush worse if he would meet her eyes. “And you’re the one who decided to enter.”

He could feel Zeb grinning on top of his head.

[alatusxiaoo]

SEASONS. (a youthful otome game with the genshin boys)

love blossoms in all seasons.

“an…otome game?”

a snort escapes your lips in disbelief, as you send a perplexed glare over to your chagrined friend. “oh, what are you looking at me for…you wanted a recommendation!”

“yeah. not this cheesy shit.” you cringed at the mere thought of it, begrudgingly inserting the video game’s dvd in the television’s slot. “i was expecting…i don’t know, something more interesting?”

the humdrum remark earns a playful slap on your shoulder from her, as you wince at the impact of her offended smack. “gods, just trust me already! it’s going to be life-changing.” she dreamily muses with a fanciful smile, however you’re not even the least bit convinced by her starry-eyed demeanor.

your eyes carefully scrutinize the displayed monitor, watching the game agonizingly load inside the box. dread crept up and sent chills down your spine as the screen slowly lit up, and your wandering eyes catch the sight of messily stuffed packages poorly concealed behind ajar closet doors. “actually you know what, i do have some unfinished monster hunter quests in the — ow! excuse me? what the hell was that for?!”

“come on y/n! you promised you’d play this time.” she childishly huffs in dismay, crossing her arms as she leans back on the edge of the bed in evident betrayal. “it won’t be that bad, i swear. let’s just finish one chapter today, and then i’ll let you decide after if we play a bit more…or you burn the damn game into smithereens.”

the latter option made quite the tempting offer, though you personally would have favored a third alternative where you could just burn the dvd now. “whatever.” you quietly grumble while snatching the plugged controller from the space on the wooden boards beside you. “fine, lets do it. but i’ll hold you to your word of that second choice.”

START.

SEASONS is a youthful otome game, where love blossoms in all seasons. Depending on the choices you make, you may encounter different characters, and unlock various special (and even secret) routes within certain chapters. There are a total of four major episodes — each contain storylines that require your decision on the choices you wish to make in pursuit of your love interest.

chapter one, spring. (when the flowers bloom.)

STATUS: prologue. chapter one. CHAPTER 2 IS NOT YET UNLOCKED.

route/s: xiao + thoma

chapter two, summer. (the warmer half of the year.)

STATUS: prologue. CHAPTER 1 IS NOT YET UNLOCKED.

route/s: ??

chapter three, autumn. (when the leaves fall from trees.)

STATUS: NOT YET UNLOCKED.

route/s: ??

chapter four, winter. (the colder half of the year.)

STATUS: NOT YET UNLOCKED.

route/s: ??

note: for the upcoming 600 milestone <3 this short series’ lovely concept is heavily inspired by seasons of blossom. if you haven’t read the webtoon, please do because i legitimately swear ;-; genuinely the most beautiful story i’ve read,, not to mention the build-up — the fucking build up!! literally the top-tier kind of writing and talent i aspire to achieve in this lifetime >;(( i laughed, shed tears and blushed a whole lot from the plot :””> so im sincerely hoping my own rendition will do greatly deserved justice to it ٩(˘◡˘)۶

warning: will contain webtoon spoilers, so i’d suggest you avoid reading if you’re interested in seeing the original first!

status: masterlist’s style is a work in progress, and speculated characters may be subject to change. THIS SERIES IS CURRENTLY ON HIATUS.

[doctorho]

If you knew what the bluebirds sing (part 13)

Royal! Viktor x gender neutral reader, 1.4k words, no warnings

Hi guys <3 here's your weekly dose of the tired sad boi. this is a shorter chapter, i'm dealing with a lot of life right now, but here ya go. some Feelings for this fine sunday evening.

Tags: @aggressa @obsessive-sapphic @shadow-pancake9 @agatemermaid @scorpio-echo @kalisbury @viktoryscreech @ivetoldamillionlies @twilightdollie @cassandras-musings @kaimerra

For a moment, you just let the silence settle around you, melting into the darkness.

“Then what would need to change here for you to be happy?” You ask, trying to keep your voice soft, feeling like saying anything too sharp might burst this little bubble you were submerged in. Like anything too loud might rip apart this gentle fragile peace that had gathered around you.

You can hear him take a deep, slightly-shaky breath, and the covers move with it. There’s something incredibly raw about this kind of closeness, you think, and waiting for him to answer made you feel like he could see right under your skin and straight into your soul.

It’s the darkness, you figure–in the dark, especially in secret stolen hours of the night, like this, it was a lot easier to be honest. When the rest of the world was asleep, and neither of you had to do anything but exist, any way you wanted.

"I don't know," He whispers, the words quiet but clear. Simple. He takes a deep breath again, and when he exhales, you can feel it brush against your skin. "But I think that this is a pretty good start."

In the darkness, every word feels like it fills the whole room, melting against your skin, settling into the warm space between your bodies.

His closeness makes your skin tingle.

He wasn’t touching you, but it wouldn’t take much to change that.

You can feel every heavy beat of your heart echo inside your body, and with every passing second staying still feels like standing on the edge of something.

Exciting, and wonderful, and terrifying.

You stay still, anything else feeling too big to handle.

So you settle for just watching him, trying to make out his features in the darkness.

“That’s good.” You answer, voice quiet and light as air.

You can barely see him close his eyes in the dim light, and he sighs quietly.

The silence hangs in the air for a moment before he answers.

“It is.” He agrees, "I do not know how I managed to get here, but I'm thankful that you–" He starts, then pauses, hesitating. "I'm sorry. I've never done this before."

Shared a bed? You almost ask, Made a…friend? Been this close to someone?

You don't say anything. Instead, you just furrow your brows and wait, let him puzzle out whatever it was he wanted to say.

“Thank you for putting up with me.” He finally says, “I know I’m not the…easiest person to be around.”

“No-one’s easy.” You argue, “Everyone’s got problems. Yours are just…of the shiny variety.”

“Shiny.” He repeats, sounding surprised, almost amused.

“Yeah. You know. Crown jewels and such.”

He laughs, breathy and quiet and real. In the process, he curls a little closer to you, close enough that you could feel his body heat. It seems to make the whole room warmer, somehow, surrounding you like the warmth radiating from a hearth in winter.

You smile in response without even thinking about it.

“If you say so.” He says quietly. And then, he sighs again. “But in all honesty, I am…thankful for you. Having you in my life has made it a lot more…lively.”

“Being in your life has definitely been the most exciting thing that’s happened to me since I started working here.” You answer, honestly.

He hums quietly. “Glad to be of service.” He answers, in that tone of voice that was just on the verge of joking. “You think I’m exciting?”

“Yes,” You answer, “I’m pretty sure that me being here is some level of illegal. I would say that counts as exciting.”

Not to mention that he was powerful, and handsome, and out of reach, basically by-the-book exciting–

He hums again, thoughtfully. “I thought I was supposed to be making the laws around here.” He notes, voice light and quiet.

“Oh, so if we were caught like this right now, I wouldn’t be fired?” You joke, and he just sighs, in response. And then cold sharp reality seems to bleed back to your surroundings, reminding you of the world outside this warm four-poster bed.

It was one of those things that you were trying not to think too hard about, but you weren’t stupid. The King being caught in the same bed with a servant would be a scandal, if nothing else. Even if you were just sleeping, it wouldn’t look good.

You weren’t too familiar with how those kinds of arrangements worked, but you were pretty sure there was some predetermined blue-blooded high-born royal out there somewhere that was meant to marry him some day. It seemed on par with the rest of his life, not having a say about things like that. And even if he was a fan of breaking the rules set for him, you knew that whatever it was that you two were doing, it was improper, and getting caught would be bad for you both.

“I am…working on that.” He says, now more serious, his voice heavy.

“Relax.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice gentle, “I didn’t mean that that’s a problem. Or, I guess it is a problem, but I’m not expecting you to fix that. I know that it’s not exactly acceptable of you to invite servants to sleep up here. I am well aware of how this would look.”

He sighs, again, tired and heavy.

“I know what I’m getting into.” You add, “And I’m not above doing crimes. As long as they’re, you know, fun and harmless, possibly involving a very comfortable bed. You were right about that, by the way. It is very comfortable.”

That seems to get him to relax a little, and he shifts slightly next to you. “If you’re sure.” He says, voice quiet, “And–I know I said you could stay as long as you like, but realistically speaking, someone will barge in here first thing in the morning, telling me to get dressed and get to breakfast and to some meeting or another.” He exhales deeply, “So…it would make sense for you to sneak back out before sunrise. Sorry.”

He says the last bit like it physically pains him. Like he doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

“So we have until morning, then?”

“Yes. Until morning.”

You smile a little, and relax into the silky-feeling sheets. “That’s good enough for me.”

It wasn’t, not really–of course you wanted more than a few short hours and the ever-pressing anxiety of having to hide. But it’s not like you could tell him that, and it’s not like there was anything more than that on the table here anyway.

And you would take what you could get, even if it was a few stolen hours in a make-believe bubble of borrowed peace.

He is silent for a long moment. Long enough for you to close your eyes, and settle into a hazy almost-sleep, surrounded by the steady sound of his breathing and the heavy beat of your heart.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you more.” He says, the words so quiet they’re barely there.

Honestly, you’re not even sure if it’s real. If you imagined it or not. It feels like something your mind could have easily cooked up, in a delirious half-conscious state, feeding off of his closeness and the hollow loneliness that had taken root in your chest some time ago.

You don’t answer. You don’t know what you would even say, and you can’t quite bring yourself to pull yourself back into the moment fully, so you just drift deeper into the darkness of sleep.

And in your barely-awake state, without really thinking it through, you find his hand into your own. It’s resting between your bodies, on the pillows, and it’s a simple movement, just gently lacing your fingers over his. But it feels like a lot more than it actually is, and your heart hangs onto that feeling like it’s an anchor, even if it makes you feel a little bit guilty. You’re pretty sure you shouldn't focus that much on the way his hand felt on yours, but in your tired state, you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

And he doesn’t move away, and you’re too tired to dwell on it, so you just fall asleep like that; warm and safe and feeling like he was holding your heart instead of your hand.

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