#But... Um... It's not rated PG-13

[naturaldreamer]

I noticed you've answered this a few times already but... 📕 Any chance you have any more daydreams?

This one is recently!

I've been daydreaming of making a game where you're living in comfort with the Bad Sans and it's all wholesome and sweet. You'll make decisions on where to go to chat with the guys and there's no wrong answers.

You wanna go and cuddle with Dust? You can do that! You wanna help make lunch with Horror (Axe)? He would love that! Train with Cross? He would love to teach you!

Go be little shits with Killer? Hell yeah! The more the merrier! Or perhaps you just want to read a book in Nightmare's office, enjoying the peace and quiet conversations the two of you have.

The possibilities are endless and will continue to change no matter what decision you make.

It'll all lead to a happy, comforting ending. (Or perhaps a beginning?)

[morganwrites12672]

Stanford's a Small Place

Stanford!Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: It was meant to be. She had met Sam whenever him and his father saved her from a vampire. She never thought she'd see him again. . . until he shows up in her English class.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: I love this sm 😭. Requests are open!

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Whenever she had walked into her English class, she hadn't been expecting to run into the man she thought she'd never see again. He had saved her life. After leaving a friend's house after dark turned into being kidnapped by vampires (something she hadn't thought existed), he had come to her rescue. She still remembered watching him untie the ropes around her wrist as his father fought the mysterious creatures.

She watched with wide eyes as he walked down the road of seats. She saw the shock on his face as he noticed her. He sat a few seats down, almost as if he was avoiding her. A subtle frown tugged on her lips. He had obviously recognized her. Why hadn't he chosen the empty seat next to her?

The English lecture seemed to take hours as she watched the clock anxiously. She would have to catch him as he left class. She needed to talk to him. She had been told to never tell anyone the truth about what had happened that night. And she had listened. Everyone thought it had been just another psychopath, all unaware it was actually a Supernatural creature.

As the Professor dismissed everyone, she shoved her things in her backpack and ran after Sam. God-damn. This wasn't fair. He had long legs. She struggled to catch up with him. As he walked around a corner, she managed to get close enough.

"Hey! Sam!" She called out. His steps faltered. He stopped and turned around.

"Um, hey," He said sheepishly. He took a step towards her so he could speak quietly. "I guess you remember me?"

"How could I forget you?" She replied. "I thought you. . ." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "hunted monsters. Why are you at Stanford? Are you working a case?"

Sam smiled, almost laughing. "I quit." He found it amusing, the way she had guessed. Even if how horribly telling his father where he was going still weighed on his mind.

Her eyes went wide, she was too stunned to speak for a second. She hadn't thought that was the type of thing you could quit doing. It made sense to her though. He had seemed to gentle for that type of work. Unlike his father, he was soft. Everything about him screamed comforting.

"I could show you around campus," She suggested, hoping he would agree to her offer. She wanted to hear more.

Sam smiled, "That would be great."

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It had been weeks since the two had reconnected. Now, Sam spent more time in her dorm room than his own. Every second he wasn't in class or working, he tried spending with her. They studied together, sat in the dining hall together, the two were practically inseparable.

Being around Sam was comforting. She finally had someone she could talk about that night with. She didn't have to lie anymore. He would rub reassuring circles on her knee with his thumb as she spoke. He didn't ask questions. He just listened. He held her while she cried after. He was everything she needed.

Sam loved her presence. She was someone who already knew about the Supernatural. He could tell her anything. She would play with his hair while he told her about the hunts that stuck with him. Or she would wipe his tears if he spoke about his father, and the night he had told John he was leaving for Stanford.

They were perfect for each other, even if they were just friends. For now.

It was obvious to everyone but then that the two were in love.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as Sam said her name. She quickly looked up at him. Shit. She hadn't been paying attention. It was late and she hated History. Sam was incredible at it. She didn't have his natural talent for the subject.

Sam began putting up the textbooks and other things strewn across her bed. She sat up with a yawn.

"No, it's fine. We can keep studying. The quiz is in two days," She said, though her voice was laced with sleep.

Sam smiled, "We can work on it tomorrow."

She sighed, giving up. She was exhausted. She helped Sam pick up everything they had been studying with. As he sat back on the bed, she leaned against his shoulder. The two had never discussed their relationship.

She gazed up at him. He was too pretty. With his puppy dog eyes and messy brown hair, he had won her heart. A light blush coated Sam's cheeks as he noticed her staring. She smiled in reply.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore," She said softly. "I want to be more."

She was suddenly much more awake as she spoke. It was like admitting her feelings to Sam had given her a second wind. She wanted to remember his reaction, as long as this went well. If not, she could only hope he would agree to stay friends and pretend this never happened.

"Y-you don't mean that," He said softly, his eyes holding nothing but longing. "You know how fucked up my life's been."

She pressed a finger to his lips as she quickly sat up,"Bullshit. I want you."

His eyes glanced down to her lips. A coy smile overtook her face. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Their lips were mere inches apart. If either one of them moved, they would kiss.

Sam gently pressed his lips to hers as an answer. He wanted her too.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to comment and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[dewdropdinosaur]

Go Heavy on the Red

ALASTOR x (F) READER Summary: SOULMATE AU. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. Till you died and met him Warnings: Mentions of death, drunk driving, dugs, alcohol, and sex. Rating: PG-13 For the lovely @anon-of-the-void Requests are OPEN

In the chaotic realm of Hell, where demons and lost souls roamed endlessly, there existed a peculiar demon named Alastor. With a penchant for mischief and a flair for the dramatic, he ruled over his domain with unmatched charisma and power. But beneath his imposing exterior lay a longing, a desire for something more profound than the endless cycle of torment and chaos that he so loved. 

All his life, Alastor’s wrist had been adorned with perfect neat red cursive spelling out the words ‘Going heavy on the red, huh?’. Whoever you were, your handwriting was pristine, perfect for someone like him. Yet, despite this, Alastor never truly believed that he would ever find the soulmate behind the words inked upon him. His tattoo was in red…his soulmate was alive or not yet born. A strange phenomenon for a soulmate not to be born within one’s time but then again Alastor was a strange phenomenon in and of himself. 

You were no different. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. ‘New to the whole being dead thing my dear?’ Your soulmate was dead, you always wondered how. You were born with the ink so black and murky that it looked like a void space. The handwriting was a fine print, definitely from a time long past. It looked as though it was printed by an old typewriter or someone who had an orderly and steady hand. Crisp and clean. Maybe your soulmate was like that too?

But fate is an even crueler mistress, and despite laying on the load of soulmates from different eras - your mortal thread was also fragile. As the years passed, your time on Earth drew to a close and when you closed your eyes for the last time after being slammed into by a drunk driver - you awoke not to pearly white gates but deep dark brimstone ones. Your bearings were slim and despite trying to orient yourself to your new environment, nothing was working. 

Slowly working your way along the smoky streets, you peered upon an ad for a hotel - the Hazbin Hotel to be precise. The ad was clearly hand drawn with what seemed to be childish crayon but nonetheless the happy picture seemed to stand out amongst the dismal exterior. Following the directions, the streets you walked were perilous. Screaming, crying, the heavy smell of alcohol, sex, and sin filled your nose. Holding your stomach, you convinced yourself that expelling the contents of your stomach right before you approach a hotel didn’t seem like the best idea. You would at least wait to find a decent bathroom…if there was such a thing in this place. In fact, where were you anyway? 

Soon, you came to gaze upon an older structure with a giant vacancy sign. Entering the Hotel, you observed your surroundings. A…cat…stood at the bar with a…spider demon there too? A shorter hyperactive woman ran around with a knife…and were those walking eggs?! 

“OH MY GOSH!! Hello~! Welcome to the Hotel, my name is Charlie!” Without warning a younger woman with blonde hair and a red suit came up and shook your hand furiously. Dazed and confused, you shook back slowly. 

“Oh, hello.”

“So wonderful sinner, would you like a room?”

“Wait, um sinner? I..I am not a sinner.”

“But you are—oh. OH. I see. You’re new!”

“Umm..new to what exactly?”

“Oh, this…this is Hell. You…died?”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. You saw the headlights, he sped through the red light. Crash. Now..now you’re here. Not in your car where you were. But here. In Hell. Hell, the supposedly a fiery pit of destruction and seduction that held the most enigmatic and psychotic of characters.

“Well, let’s get you settled in! Come on, I want to introduce you to everyone!”

Grabbing your arm and dragging you around the Hotel, Charlie introduced you to everyone in an effort to get your bearings and settle down. Little did you know that from the shadows a figure lurked. Watching with glowing red eyes, Alastor peered and sized up this newcomer to the Hotel. Fresh meat was always a good idea and especially with all the changes going around, he felt a need to grasp onto some entertainment. Distract himself with unworthy souls who would fail here spectacularly. 

His soulmate tattoo had turned black this morning and his mind began to reel with all the possibilities. Would his soulmate be in Heaven or in Hell like himself? Would fate be too cruel again and separate them not only across time but planes of death? Throughout the day, his wrist started to burn with a fiery pain. They were close…and as this newcomer approached the Hotel, his interest peaked. Maybe they knew something, he would find out sooner or later.

“Alastor, where are you? We have a new guest for you to meet! Oh, he may be a bit creepy but just don’t try and focus on that.”

With a flicker of shadow, Alastor appeared in front of you in all his 1930s red pinstripe radio glory. His voice was static with radio waves, he extended his hand to you.

“Going heavy on the red, huh?”

Static crackle. His grip tightened around your own as he heard your words. With an evil crackle he spoke with a smirk.

“New to the whole being dead thing my dear” 

Alastor's grin widened as he reached out, grasping your hand and drawing closer to his wrist.

 "Look closely, my dear," He started tracing the intricate patterns etched into their skin. "Do you see it?"

Your eyes widened in awe as you beheld the tattoos adorning their wrists, glowing softly amidst the darkness of Hell. "It... it's...," you trailed off, breath catching in your throat.

"Our soulmate tattoos," Alastor finished, his voice softening with an unexpected tenderness. "Fate's cruel joke on us my dear has come to an end."

For a moment, you were speechless, heart pounding with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "I... I never imagined..." you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words. 

But before you could speak further, Alastor locked his gaze with yours in an unspoken promise. Manipulation has its place and it was Alastor’s preferred tool. 

"In this realm of chaos and despair, we may have found each other against all odds," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of Hell. "But together, my dear Y/N, we shall defy fate itself."

And as they stood there, their souls intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of Hell, you knew that they had found not only their salvation, but also your truest companion amidst the darkness. Alastor knew that he had found his only weakness, the tinge of his dark black heart beating once again. Feelings he knew were real despite his aversion to such moments. Maybe hiding and indulging in this one weakness wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[berenwrites]

A Simple Question - Steddie - PG13

for @steddie-week Day 2

Prompt: Hands / touch starved / Invisible Touch by Genesis

rated pg-13 | 1155 wds | tags: kissing, fluff, everybody lives, post vecna, mentions of sex

Eddie is a little tipsy and he has a question for Nancy.

(Also on AO3) ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

A Simple Question: Ha! What Boundaries?

Eddie was on his way to drunk, which was why he sat on the couch next to Nancy and cut himself off. Ever since his brush with death, he was something of a lightweight. At least everyone else seemed to be pretty buzzed as well. He’d passed on Argyle’s weed because of the aforementioned lightweight status, but the others hadn’t.

Jon and Argyle were currently lying on the floor having a deeply philosophical discussion about mushrooms, and not even the magic kind. Steve and Robin were draped all over each other in the corner giggling. And Nancy had been staring into space until Eddie sat down.

“Greetings, Wheeler the Badass,” he said with a smile as she looked at him.

“Eddie the Not-So-Banished,” she replied with a smile, “to what do I owe the honour.”

That made Eddie giggle.

“Came to ask you a question,” he told her. “Probably an ill-advised question, but I figured you’re too mellow to hit me.”

Nancy lifted an eyebrow at him for that.

“You’re probably right,” she agreed much to his surprise.

“Really?” he asked, because he would have shut his mouth if she’d objected.

“Really,” she said. “Ask away.”

“So,” he began, drawing out the ‘o’ sound, “Steve…”

“Ah,” Nancy said with a smile that Eddie couldn’t quite interpret.

“What do you mean by ‘ah’?” he asked.

“That your question?” Nancy replied.

“What? No,” he protested.

“You only get one,” Nancy told him.

“You’re changing the rules,” he complained.

“I could go and talk about mushrooms,” Nancy said.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie said, pretty sure if he had had one less beer the conversation would have been a lot less annoying, but then again, they probably wouldn’t have been having it at all. “So, Steve, reputation with the ladies deserved or hyped up?”

Nancy snorted a laugh and patted him on the leg in a rather unsettling way.

“In a sexy way or romantic way?” she asked.

“Um … sexy,” Eddie admitted quietly.

“Totally deserved,” Nancy told him, “and actually in a romantic way too. Probably would have eaten that shit up if, well, the stuff that happened hadn’t.”

She looked sad for a moment, so Eddie patted her hand in what he hoped was a sensitive gesture.

“So totally deserved?” he prodded when no more was forthcoming because his brain to mouth filter was on low power.

“God yes,” Nancy said, turning to look at him. “You would not believe how good he is with his hands, oh and his mouth. Fuck, his hands and mouth in combination.” She beckoned him closer. “Jonathan’s good,” she whispered, “but he’s never given me three orgasms in a row.”

“Three?” Eddie whispered back.

Nancy nodded.

“And that was just for starters,” she assured him. “I think he gets off on getting his partner off,” she revealed.

“Wow,” was the best Eddie could do with that information.

“You should shoot your shot,” Nancy said and all but shocked him sober.

“What … me … but …” he babbled.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Nancy said quietly.

He wondered if she was actually as high as she was pretending, because the look in her eyes was anything but vague.

“I’m that obvious?” he asked, sagging into the couch cushion.

He’d come out as bisexual to this older group of friends when Robin had accidentally outed herself at another of their exclusive get-togethers and panicked. That Steve had known since Starcourt and been Robin’s number one cheerleader really shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it had really.

“Only among friends,” she told him, wrapping her hand in his. “You should talk to him.”

“He’s straight,” Eddie pointed out.

“Not if the way I saw him making out with Argyle is anything to go by,” Nancy replied.

“Argyle?”

“Yes, my dude?” Argyle asked, so possibly Eddie had said that louder than he had meant to.

“Just passing on your haircare tips,” Nancy covered for him.

“Always here if you need advice, Brochacho,” Argyle replied with a wave before going back to talking to Jonathan.

“I couldn’t hear what they were saying,” Nancy said, leaning in again, “but I did see Steve thank Argyle and walk away with that, wow I’ve discovered something face he does when he’s processing new things.”

“The one with the adorable little crease right here?” Eddie asked, pointing to the top of his nose.

Nancy lifted both her eyebrows this time.

“Wow you have it bad,” she commented.

“I know,” he admitted and sighed dramatically. “But he’s Steve and I’m me. He’s an adonis and I’m a wet cat.”

So maybe he deserved the laugh from Nancy for that one.

“Talk to him,” Nancy encouraged.

“But what would I say?” Eddie asked kind of desperately.

“You could try, ‘Steve fancy kissing me’,” an all too familiar voice said from just behind him.

It was at that moment he realised Steve and Robin were no longer in the corner, far, far away from the current conversation. He kind of froze, only turning very, very slowly to find Steve standing directly behind the couch with a couple of cold sodas in his hands.

Apparently, adrenaline was amazing stuff, because Eddie felt one hundred percent sober in that instant. An embarrassing squeak escaped from his throat.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Robin said, throwing herself onto the couch on the other side of Nancy, “the romantic tension was getting really annoying.”

“Says the woman who still hasn’t made it to first base with Vicky,” Steve bitched back.

Robin just made a kissy face at him, while Eddie continued to freak out.

He’d been daydreaming about Steve ever since he’d woken up in the hospital with Steve standing guard over him like some angel from heaven. Apparently, nobody argued with Steve Harrington when he looked like he might bring down the wrath of God at any moment, which had given the rest of the Party enough time to get Eddie’s name cleared. The whole ripping a demobat in half had started it for Eddie, and that had totally clinched it.

Steve was looking at him now in that earnest way he had that kind of melted Eddie’s insides.

“Hey Steve,” he finally said, “fancy kissing me?”

It was all kinds of pathetic, but it was all he had.

With a cocky smile, Steve passed the sodas he was holding to Nancy, leaned over the back of the couch and slipped one cold hand into the hair as the base of Eddie’s skull. The kiss was long and deep, and Eddie never wanted it to end. Of course it had to, especially when Jonathan, the traitor, wolf whistled.

Steve picked up a cushion and threw it at Jonathan’s head as Eddie sank back into the couch with what he was sure was a dreamy expression on his face. Nancy leaned in.

“Wait until you get the full magic hands too,” she whispered.

The End ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

[moonlightspencie]

Devils Roll the Dice…

Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)

Word Count: 4k

I took a deep breath, looking in the mirror. I knew we were meeting the new recruit today, and just the thought of it exhausted me. Not that I didn’t like meeting new people. I just hated the break in routine.

We had a concrete team. Kate had already joined. We didn’t need anyone else coming in and messing up a very new rhythm we’d found with each other.

I finished tying my tie, pressing it down, and preemptively steeling myself against the new person. Probably some guy who didn’t know the difference between a tyrannical and enforcing sadist. Half of the students I’d met in recent guest lectures only wanted to go into the field because they’d listened too many crime podcasts anyways.

I walked into the bullpen, taking my seat as usual, ready to turn that cold shoulder at the first misstep of whoever this mystery recruit was. Unfortunately, I felt anything but cold when Hotch called our attention to the figure standing in his office doorway. He stood partially in front of her before he allowed her to stand right next to him as he introduced us. My eyes locked onto her at an embarrassing rate, and I felt far more embarrassed when she caught me and flashed a smirk.

She was anything but shy as a newbie, and for some reason that thrilled me. She wasn’t afraid to get into conversation with the team immediately as she unpacked her things at her new desk. She wasn’t afraid to tell Garcia everything she wanted to know. Much to my surprise, she wasn’t afraid to send me the cutest smiles every time she caught my eyes on her.

“Hey,” she said, walking up to me as I stood in the kitchenette.

Truthfully, I needed the time alone because of her. I couldn’t stop looking at her, and it was becoming a problem considering I was supposed to be doing work. She was just so… Different. She was sweet and funny and so attractive it made my mouth dry up.

“Hi,” I said after a moment. “Coffee?”

She nodded, holding out her mug. I filled it up from the pot in my hands after I topped off my own. She blew on it, looking up at me with big eyes. I watched her, not realizing how long it had been until she broke eye contact, a smile settling onto her face.

“You’re gonna keep watching me blow on my coffee?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but fell quiet when she smiled again. She moved the mug from her face.

“Got any advice for me with the BAU?”

I swallowed. “Uh, you came from Intelligence, right?”

She nodded, brows raised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I was listening earlier. You said it to JJ.”

“Alright, so I know one fact about you other than the eidetic memory,” she said with a chuckle.

I smiled softly. “Right. Sorry, I haven’t been very talkative today.”

“That’s okay,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “I’ve tried really hard to get into this unit, so I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. We’ll have time to get to know one another.”

I nodded quickly. “Uh, so, advice. Um, I guess you should know this team is a lot like a family. We really care about each other, and we’re pretty close. Especially us field agents.”

“Good to know,” she nodded thoughtfully. “If you have any more wisdom floating around in that big ol’ brain of yours, let me know. I already heard Penelope calling you ‘boy wonder’, so I’d love to see you live up to that reputation.”

She finished off her sentence with a wink, turning away from me and rejoining the others who still gathered around her desk. She was shiny and new, and everyone wanted to know about her. I couldn’t blame them. I’d love to know as much as I could get my hands on.

One thing I learned very quickly is that she had a habit of flirting.

At first, I thought it was a general behavior she exhibited towards everyone. Then, after some keen observation I came to a terrible and exciting realization: she really only flirted with me.

I think most of it was due to the fact that she just liked to see me flustered. She could make it happen very easily, too. All it took was a sly, under-the-breath comment in passing and my face was turning red.

She’d smile at me, enjoying the tint in my cheeks. I’d stare back at her, just glad to see her smile.

Four weeks in and I was entirely wrapped around her finger.

She wasn’t shy about flirting on cases either, though she was always really good about making sure the only thing anyone ever saw was me being a total dork.

I almost never tried flirting back. I was pretty terrible at it anyways. But there were occasions when I’d make an attempt.

We were working on a case that leaned heavily on the geographical profile, meaning: I spent the entire case in the precinct. I finally cracked it after a few days, and the team found themselves at a farm. One of my least favorite places for a case to be, leaving me very thankful that I wasn’t along for the search and rescue. I really only went to the farm because everyone else was there.

By the time that I actually got to the crime scene, the unsub had already been apprehended. So, I stood near the cars, waiting on the others to come back. It was several minutes before I heard Hotch and Derek walking up and talking to one another. I turned as the rest of the team followed several steps behind. Y/N came into view last, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she walked closer.

She gave me an exasperated smile, throwing her arms up as I took her in. She was covered in dried mud, clearly having taken a fall somewhere gross.

“I tripped and fell while doing absolutely nothing. I feel like you, all clumsy,” she joked, laughing.

I smiled, looking her up and down.

“How are you still pretty covered in dirt?”

“You can’t do that,” she said quickly, looking over her shoulder. “Not right now, anyways.”

I scrunched up my face. She had been much more forwardly flirtatious on cases before now. I couldn’t fathom how this was any different, especially since all I did was make a flirty comment. I guess my facial expression could’ve conveyed more. I seemed to have a hard time concealing my feelings for her when she looked at me the way she did.

“Why?”

She looked behind her again, like she was keeping an eye out for someone. But the only person there was Morgan. Maybe she was afraid of him telling on us for flirting on the job. But he was the one that relentlessly flirted with everyone else. Why would he be coming after us? Maybe she didn’t know that well enough.

“Morgan flirts with people all the time. He’s not going to—”

“Spencer,” she groaned, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the SUV.

I furrowed my brow again. “What?”

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to get weird about it.”

“Get… Weird?”

“Like, don’t be all freaked out,” she clarified.

“Okay,” I said, unsure where this was heading.

She cleared her throat, stealing one more glance at him. She looked back at me, chewing her lip with a coy smile. I had a feeling that now wasn’t the time, but I blushed, unable to stop myself from fully taking her in. Luckily, my upstairs brain started working again just in time to give all my attention to her as she started speaking.

“I’m sure this will make things a little awkward,” she stated, sighing softly, “but, he and I… Uh, Derek and I, we have a history.”

I quirked a brow. “Oh? How?”

She stared at me, expecting me to take a hint that I was most certainly not picking up on.

“We… We were involved. Romantically.”

My brows shot up. “Oh.”

“Yeah. It was only like five months, really, but,” she shrugged. “That happened. Hence why it’s been a little awkward between us.”

She said that bit like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I hadn’t been any the wiser about it. Maybe it was just another case of me being a little more oblivious than some of my coworkers about behaviors that didn’t have to do with the job. Maybe I was just too enamored with her to pay attention to how she interacted with our coworker.

“I didn’t notice,” I said quietly.

“Good. I’ve been hoping to keep it on the down-low,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t exactly wanted to endure teasing from the team about sleeping with Derek of all people.”

I swallowed, not having thought about the fact that she’d been… Physical with him. More so, that he’d gotten to be with her in that way. He’d seen her. Heard her. Felt her. All of her. I took in a breath, clearing my head of that image.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner if I was going to keep flirting like this,” she said, suddenly a little shy as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “I know you two are close.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t tell us about you.”

She laughed. “Our relationship wasn’t completely… A serious thing.”

“Serious enough to last five months.”

She snorted. “Most of the time we spent together wasn’t exactly romantic. He was great, but we both kind of used each other. Hard time in life for both of us back then.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding curtly. “So it was mostly, uh— Sexual?”

She smirked, looking away. “Not entirely just that. But that was a lot of it.”

I nodded again, feeling my cheeks flush. She nudged my arm, pulling my attention again.

“It’s been well over a year now since that all happened,” she said quietly. “I just… I don’t want to rock the boat right now. Being new to the unit, I should probably try my best to be on everyone’s good side, you know?”

“I get it. I’ll stop with the flirting,” I said, giving what I hoped was an affirming smile.

She furrowed her brow. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It isn’t?”

“The flirting is fine, I just think… Maybe we should keep it a little more quiet when we’re around the others,” she shrugged. “If that’s okay.”

“You’re okay with me— doing that?”

“Spencer, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re crazy hot.”

I was certainly blushing now. I swallowed, blinking in surprise as I looked at her. Her smile only grew. She enjoyed teasing me. I couldn’t say I didn’t like it just as much as she did.

“Uh, th-thank you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Quit acting so shy as if you don’t already know.”

My eyes widened. “I’m not acting.”

“Every woman who meets you flirts with you.”

“No they don’t,” I argued, my brows knitting together.

“Are you blind?”

“No,” I said, still in a state of confusion.

She laughed it off. “Alright, boy wonder, we’d better join the group. They’re gathering like vultures.”

I followed after her as she integrated into the group where they stood as Hotch spoke. She was so good at finding her way in. I was thrilled to see how she’d find her place in my life going forward.

In the following weeks, she gave me an idea of what that would look like. Stolen glances at every turn had my heart racing. It went even faster every time she found a way to touch me in some inconspicuous way.

A hand on my arm as she asked about the maps I was working on. A brush of fingers as she’d hand me a coffee cup. Her shoulder pressed into mine to whisper to me some detail of a case that really could’ve been said at full volume.

She usually didn’t step past those boundaries though, ever cautious not to let herself get caught out by anyone else. The comments she made towards me were still relentless, however. I didn’t know how she had it hidden so well.

I, however, had much more trouble hiding my attraction, and I was sure I’d heard some of my teammates whispering to each other about it. They’d give me knowing looks every time I got caught out staring at her. Even Morgan gave what seemed like mostly-good natured glances my way when I paid a bit too much attention to her. Probably only because he didn’t know that I knew about them, and even more likely didn’t want anyone else to know. It would be a tell-tale sign if he didn’t make fun of me.

It felt wrong to be keeping this odd little secret from him. I wasn’t necessarily sneaking around with his ex-girlfriend, but we were still flirting. We were still hiding something from him. I wondered how he’d react if he found out, and hoped for my sake that he was well and truly over it.

Especially after our last night on a case in Georgia. The summer air in the state was hot, and it felt like it was actively pulling air from my lungs every time I went outside. Maybe it was some kind of metaphor for what was to come.

I held back for hours from going to her door. The teasing had been terribly relentless the entire time we were on the case, and the week before. Tension was building, and I knew if I was easily picking up on it, she definitely had to be.

I paced around my room, contemplating my options. If I went to her, there was a chance we’d finally talk about whatever was happening between us. There was also a chance she’d tell me to leave if I attempted to tell her how I really felt, and I’d be left pining over her probably forever. Both were pretty scary.

Either way, I decided it was better than continuing to fall for her without having a real conversation about it. I walked to the door, my hand on the handle.

She stood just outside my door, her hand raised as if she was about to knock when I tugged it open. A smile graced her pretty lips, her hand dropping.

“Looks like we had the same idea,” she stated, pushing past me into my room. “Good timing.”

“It was.”

She chewed at her lip, looking around the space with her arms crossed. I stared at her as she took it all in, waiting for whatever was on her mind to be put out into the open. She looked back at me, apparently reading my mind.

“We’re both waiting on each other to speak up, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“This is a ridiculous thing we’re doing right now. It’s like sneaking around with any of the fun parts,” she said with a laugh.

“I think it’s fun,” I shrugged.

“It could be more fun.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. But I’m happy just to have your attention.”

She smirked, walking towards me.

“I think you’re kind of needy.”

“Maybe.”

“It’s cute.”

I blushed, giving her a smile as I looked away. She still looked at me like she was about to devour me. I could sympathize with all of those animals I saw in nature documentaries as the predator closed in on them. It was in vivid color. She stalked closer and closer, knowing full well that my guard was down enough for her to launch an attack.

“You really enjoy this, don’t you?” I asked. “Knowing you make me flustered. Half of the time I can hardly talk when I’m around you. Everyone knows it, and they all think it’s one-sided.”

She leaned her chest into mine, surely able to feel how fast my heart beat for her.

“Are you embarrassed by it?”

“No.”

Her hands crept their way up under my shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as if her touch didn’t feel as hot as the sun. I watched her silently, letting her do whatever she wanted. She couldn’t asked me to jump out of the seventh-floor window with her and I would’ve gone head first without a question.

Panic only crept in when she started leaning in closer to my face, and I realized her lips were on a path that would end with mine.

“Wait,” I said, grabbing her wrists.

Her eyes widened, pulling her head back slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I just don’t think this is a good idea,” I breathed out.

She retreated from me, and it was hard not to let my body follow hers. She was only a step away, but it felt like a continent’s worth of space. My fingers itched to reach out and pull her back in.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, eyes wandering over her face.

She swallowed. “I don’t know what you want, Spence. One minute you’re telling me you want me, the next you’re pushing me away.”

Logic kept trying to overtake my head. It was annoying.

“I can’t… You’re Morgan’s ex.”

She sighed. “I’m also a human being. I am my own person separate from him. One that is very attracted to you.”

I wet my lips, not missing how her eyes followed the action. I felt a fluttering in my stomach just watching her react. She smiled, as always, catching me in the act of being wildly into her. She took half a step forward.

“You’re telling me this is a bad idea, but every time I look at you I’m getting a different message.”

I swallowed. “I know.”

“So, which is it?”

“It is a bad idea,” I started, intending on making it a whole sentence, but not knowing what to say next.

“But?”

“But I don’t know if I care enough to stop it.”

She smirked again, not holding back this time. She reached up, pulling me down to her lips with her hands wrapped in my hair. I wound my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly into me. I relished feeling her body fully pressed against mine, especially when she let out a contented sigh as I deepened the kiss. She started guiding my backwards towards the bed, and I obliged her silent request until the backs of my knees were against the mattress.

“Sit,” she requested, the word whispered against my lips.

I did, peering up at her as she staying standing in between my legs. She grasped my chin in her soft hand, tilting up my head to see me.

“How sure about this are you?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

She smiled. “Good. I don’t either.”

She dropped into my lap, kissing me like we hadn’t even stopped in the first place. My hands gripped her hips for the first time, and she was everything I had daydreamed about. Soft and responsive. I couldn’t imagine being the one to let her go, and I found myself questioning Morgan’s judgment in that moment.

It made me feel even better every time she smiled or made a little comment about the ways I reacted to her. Usually I’d be embarrassed, but she just made me feel good.

“Sweet boy,” she mumbled against me, moving her lips from my jaw and down my neck.

My hands found themselves wandering across her back, and my eyes were practically stuck shut as I felt her lips against my skin. I could’ve died right then and there and been happy to go.

But a knock at the door sent us both into high alert. She sat up straight, looking towards the door.

I stood with her legs still wrapped around me before I turned and dropped her on the bed. She bounced on the mattress, looking up at me with a surprised smile.

“Just— Stay here and stay quiet. Please,” I said, then walked to the door, trying to frantically fix my hair.

I cleared my throat as I opened the door, forcing myself to not look like I was embarrassingly close to…

I shook myself out of that thought the second I saw Morgan. He definitely put an end to any sexy thoughts that clouded my head.

“Hey, kid, can I ask you something?”

I furrowed my brow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just… Do you know what’s been up with JJ? She’s been a little off. Won’t really talk to me, so I was wondering if she said anything to you.”

I let out a breath of relief. “No, she hasn’t told me anything. But I know Henry’s been pretty sick the past week. Maybe that’s it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nodding slowly. “Alright, thanks. Just… Worried, you know?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s JJ, though. She’ll be okay.”

“Right, yeah, I know,” he nodded again. “Alright. Thanks, again. You get some sleep tonight, alright?”

I nodded, bidding him a goodnight. I shut the door, seeing her on the bed still. She was propped up on her elbows, smirking at me.

“That ruin the mood?”

I locked the door.

“Not particularly.”

To my surprise, she ended up being the one who wanted to take it slow. We kissed for another hour or so when I got back within her reach, but didn’t go much further. Not that I was in a position to complain. I was ecstatic just to be touching her, and she somehow felt the same about me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand why that was.

She’d told me when I’d dropped onto the bed, crawling over top of her, that she didn’t want to go all the way. She said it so sweet. Almost like she was afraid of whatever answer I’d give to her. As if I’d say I didn’t want to kiss her all night long.

Besides, I was pretty sure I’d spontaneously combust if we had gone any further.

We woke up the next morning, still holding onto one another. She had changed into my t-shirt before she climbed into bed with me, and looked absolutely incredible with her messy bed-head and sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” she mumbled.

“It is a very good morning,” I said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Her hand pressed against my cheek, the smile spreading on her face as she looked at me.

“You’re adorable,” she said quietly, granting me another kiss.

I sighed. “I don’t think I want to stop this.”

“Why would we?” she asked with an incredulous smile.

“Because, I mean, we can’t tell anyone about us,” I said with a shrug. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to make this— A thing.”

She wet her lips. “We don’t have to tell anyone in order to be together.”

I contemplated that for a moment. I’d never considered having a completely private relationship. At least not with someone who wasn’t actively being stalked. That was an entirely different scenario. I guess to her, it was probably scary to get into a relationship with one of your ex’s best friends. I couldn’t blame her for that.

I took a breath. “You… You want to keep it a secret?”

She nodded. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I said with a nod, not bothering to filter my thoughts as they came out into the open.

She smiled. “Anything?”

“Almost. I draw the line at murder.”

She laughed. “Team’d catch you anyways.”

I laughed right back, giving her another kiss. She leaned into my touch, shyness creeping into her face.

“I do really like you, Spencer.”

I nodded. “I do too.”

“This’ll be great, you know?”

She smiled brightly, causing one to form on my face. She brushed my hair away from my face, just looking at me.

“Yeah. I know.”

…ANGELS ROLL THEIR EYES (part 2)

[chairofchaos]

The Power of Jewelry

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra (fluffy fluffy fluffy)

Summary: Eris has a little secret. Actually, it’s a few secrets. Stored in a box. Above the bed he shares with Azriel. (It’s fluff. I pinky promise!)

Rating: Teen/PG-13

Word Count: <1000

A/N: What can I say? My fingers slipped again. Oops. Based on this post. Fits in @azrisweek Day Four!

Azriel lurked in the doorway watching his mate rifle through a box he had pulled down from the shelf above the bed. He had thought the box was empty, but Eris seemed intent on finding whatever he was looking for.

Quickly, quickly, his shadows had urged him, guiding him to the bedroom. But instead of finding his mate in the state which usually got the shadows excited for him to enter the bedroom, he found his mate being sneaky. There was very little they hid from each other, usually presents or other surprises. But Azriel, attentive though he was, had never caught his mate red handed.

“Can I help you find something?”

Eris’ head snapped around to face him. He looked guilty, not disappointed. Interesting.

“I’m looking for a… piece of jewelry,” Eris said awkwardly.

“Well, let’s see,” Azriel nodded to the box. “I didn’t realize you kept jewelry in there. Is it earrings? You left a pair in the bathroom yesterday.”

Eris licked his bottom lip. Oh, he was hiding something.

“No, I knew those were there,” he said evenly.

Azriel only quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Eris rolled his eyes and tucked his hands by his sides, straightening with a huff. “I’m looking for a ring.”

“A ring.”

“Yes.”

“You’re already wearing your usuals. And you’re wearing your wedding ring.”

“My most important ring,” Eris mused with a small smirk. Azriel smiled, but ignored his comment.

“Why is it so important?”

Eris couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “I have a meeting.”

“A meeting.”

“Az…” Eris started to protest, but Azriel only shook his head and motioned for him to continue. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you’re making this big of a deal out of it,” Azriel countered.

Eris muttered something so low that even Azriel couldn’t hear it. Whatever it was, it made Azriel’s shadows start to churn. Even his prompting them didn’t break their silent, furious spinning.

“Eris.”

“They’re engagement rings.” Eris’ eyes were wary, but not guilty.

Azriel was shocked enough that it took him more than a moment to respond.

“What?”

“I… this box, they’re the engagement rings from the proposals my father forced me to make. I started picking jewelry that I would like, things I could wear.”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh at the sorry expression Eris made as he finished his little tale. Eris’ brows were furrowed with frustration even as the corner of his mouth twitched up. His eyes reflected only amusement and apology.

“So these are the rings, then? What, did you lose a favorite?”

Eris winced. “Um… not exactly.”

He does not want to admit what he is doing, his shadows whispered in his ears. Azriel ignored them. That was obvious enough, even though his shadows seemed to be seething at the idea Eris was hiding something.

“Eris. Please just spit it out.”

“I’m meeting with one of the females and her father today to discuss a trade deal and I usually wear the rings to the meetings to throw them off,” Eris groans, laughing a bit as he sits on the edge of the bed.

The box tips over from the movement- and suddenly, Azriel understands. A small mountain of rings topple and roll from the box, settling in a little pile of fine metals and gemstones, all unique.

“How many?” Azriel breathed, crossing the room to brush his fingers against them. They were rather lovely. And Azriel recognized a few of them, ones that had graced his mate’s long fingers and then disappeared after a day or two.

“Twenty three,” Eris groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed with such an uncanny resemblance to Azriel’s teenage nephew that he couldn’t help but snort, then school his features into something a little less… bewildered.

“Twenty three proposals?” It was a shocking number, even for a male who had been alive and unmarried as long as Eris.

“There were more before I started picking rings I knew I’d use once I convinced them to say no,” Eris grumbled.

“So, twenty three rings. That you picked for yourself, under the guise of engagement rings.”

Eris nodded. “I actually came to love it. A little bit of freedom.”

“And now, what, you wear them to taunt them?”

“You’d be surprised how often it turns the tide in my favor.”

“How so?”

“I once startled a courtier so much she agreed to an agreement which gave me the power to control half her land for a decade.”

“Cauldron,” Azriel shook his head, biting back a smirk. “And today’s ring?”

Eris blushed. “I’m meeting with the father of the sixteenth female I proposed to. He flew into such a rage when she broke off the engagement that I took her away to Day, where she claimed asylum. He hasn’t seen her since. His glower gets angrier each time I wear it, and I’ve done his daughter the favor of keeping her in the loop of all the stupid things his rage makes him do.”

“You, my devious, lovely trickster,” Azriel bent to kiss Eris, smiling. “I love you.”

Eris pulled him in for another kiss, and Azriel let his weight fall atop his mate. The rings clinked, a couple of them rolling off the bed with thuds betraying their various weights. “I love you too.”

The shadows swirled around them both, their fury gone as suddenly as it had come. After a moment, Eris pushed Azriel back a few inches. “D’you know my favorite ring of all?” He murmured against Azriel’s lips.

“No idea,” Azriel smiled, pressing a kiss to Eris’ jaw. He knew. He always knew.

Eris smirked at Azriel’s indulgence, pulling his mate’s left hand slowly to his mouth to press a gentle kiss along the gold wedding band circling his ring finger.

“This one, right here.”

[officeofcommanderfox]

Hello!

I'd like to suggest Prompt # 46 - You're telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here today?

Thanks!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

p.s. This is a really fun idea, thanks for doing it!

Thanks so much for the ask! Here's Chapter 3 based on your prompt!

The Commander and the Civvie, Chpt. 3

Fic Main | Chpt 2

Pairing: Commander Fox x Female Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Language (although it's Star Wars 'swearing'), mentions of adult activity, dressing sexy, flirting

Prompt 46. “You're telling me you have nowhere better to be than here, today?” 

Prompt 47. “Wow, you really don’t have anyone special in your life at the minute.”

It was the end of the day when Fox walked into his office; you had already left for the day, but made sure to still take care of him by leaving a freshly brewed cup of caf just sitting there on his desk. As he opened the insulated cup, the warm comforting roasted scent filled the air even in his helmet. He took a deep whiff and smiled. Albeit reluctantly. 

He noticed you'd been doing little things to make it easier for him. You always had a cup of caf waiting for him after his meeting with the Chancellor. You even went and bought grounds from the café he visited, so it wasn't that cheap GAR supplied crap. 

There were even treats available at times, although he'd deny ever having them, truth was he hoarded a good amount in the bottom locked drawer. Thorn, Thire and even Hound on occasion would stop by just to get some treats not that he'd ever begrudge his brothers. Mostly. 

Fox took a sip of the perfectly made caf as he read a report when Thorn came in, “We have a problem.” 

He let out a sigh, “Who is it?” 

“Senator Clovis and a civilian he tried to sneak in.” 

Fox let out a frustrated groan, standing as he slipped on his helmet, “What is wrong with that man? Doesn't he see what sort of security breach he could be causing.” 

“Don't think he's thinking with his brain, more like his appendage further south.”

Fox let out a chortle of amusement, “Alright Thorn let's get this over with.”

The club was loud and full of bodies as you danced with the tall handsome stranger, you wanted to ignore the buzzing from your comm, but Fox did say if he commed you were to answer it immediately. 

“Sorry handsome, gotta get this.” 

“What you a cop or something?” The tall stranger chuckled as his hand tightened on your waist.

“Something,” you pulled away motioning to your best friend who was dancing with another stranger you'd be stepping outside. She nodded as you made your way to the entrance. 

You cleared your throat, “Commander?”

“Pita, how long will it take to get you to the office?” 

“Ugh! Really? Pita? Aren't we done with that nickname?” 

“Are you done being a Pita?” 

Your eyes rolled at his question, “Anyway…um…” your eyes scanned your surroundings, “I’m about 20 mins away if I can get a cab, longer if I have to take transit.” 

“Where are you?” Fox frowned as loud music flowed over the comms.

“Club Spike, why?” 

There was silence on the other end for a beat, “I'm getting Coldshock to pick you up. He's patrolling in the area. He'll be there in five minutes.” 

“Woah, what's going on?” 

“Security breach, need you here to help facilitate departments.” 

“Alright… well… I'm not exactly dressed in work appropriate attire.” You looked down at your “going out with the girls” outfit. It was designed to entice but that meant that there was a lot more of your assets on display than you would ever show to the office.

“Don't worry about that, I'll have some extra GAR sweats for you to change into.” 

“Thank you.”

Fox froze, it wasn't that you never said ‘thank you,’ it was just such a rarity to hear it, especially directed to him. 

“Uh… you're welcome. Anyway see you soon, Coldshock will be there in two minutes.” 

True to his word, as soon as you finished sending a text to your group of friends informing them that you needed to go back to work, Coldshock appeared in a speeder.

“Hey Coldshock, guess you're my ride huh?” 

“That's right, gorgeous. Come on.” Coldshock took another look at you, his helmet moving up and down, he froze as he took in your look for the night, “Wow… I mean … really wow.” 

“What?”

“Nothing, just … you look … wow.” 

You let out a quiet chuckle, “yeah. It was my friend's quitting party, so we decided to go kark-em-all sexy for tonight.” 

“I have no idea what that means, but you definitely nailed sexy. Holy kriff, did you nail it.” 

A rush of blood headed to your face, his compliment making you feel special if not a touch embarrassed. The drive to the office was quiet at first, the only sound filling the covered speeder was Coldshock's gloves gripping the steering. 

“So…” Coldshock cut the silence, “do you have a boyfriend, girlfriend, furry partner, or something?”

The boisterous laughter flowing out of you, made Coldshock smile, “I take it that's a no?” 

“That's a no.” 

“Wow, you really don’t have anyone special in your life at the minute?”

“Nope.”

“That's good to know.” 

You simply shook your head as you looked out the window, “So do you know what's going on?” 

Coldshock's smile fell at your question, “Best if I let either Commander Thorn or Marshall Commander Fox answer that one, mesh'la.”

“Okay… um what was that word at the end mish-a?” 

“Mesh'la. Mi-shh-la. Mesh'la. And it means “beautiful”.” 

“Aww you're sweet. Thanks.” 

The silence that followed your arrival was felt throughout the whole floor. Fox felt his heart stop when his eyes slowly took in your outfit. The heels, the short skirt, the low cut top, the necklace that sat just perfectly against your cleavage. His mouth went dry as he did his best to understand what he was seeing. 

“Commander?” The question slipped from your lips, breaking the silence that seemed to follow you.

Thorn subtly kicked Fox’s ankle. 

“Yes!” He shook his head, grateful for his helmet, “Yes, uh… right. Pita, you're here.” He fumbled with his datapad, dropping it to the floor, “Good. Um… right. Here are the spare clothes,” Fox threw them into your face, unsure of how he should be reacting. He felt like a shiny, clumsy and clueless, “Go change and come back, we have a lot to get done.”

“Yes sir.”

Thorn simply bit his lip, doing his best to keep himself from laughing as you headed to the bathroom. He looked over to Fox once you were out of ear shot, as soon as he could he started laughing, “What is this, your first day out of the tube?? Never seen a pretty girl before?” His hand rested on his waist as he bent over laughing.

“Shut up.”

“Oh come on, Fox, just admit it, she’s sexy dressed like that.”

Fox’s visor focused on the datapad in his hand, “Just go do what you need to do.”

“What I need to do is harass you,” Thorn laughed, groaning when his eyes fell on your outfit, how was it you made even sweats look good?

“Commander, I’m here. Ready to work, what needs to be done?”

Fox clenched his jaw, how was it that the GAR’s sweats were even more fetching on you, than your clubbing outfit? You looked ready to snuggle up on a couch with a cup of caf, maybe watch a holovid, rest your head on his shoulder… he shook his head, and refocused on the work at hand.

“I need you to coordinate with the CSF (Coruscant Security Force) and the CUP (Coruscant Underworld Police).”

“You got it, but what exactly happened?”

Thorn let out a huff of annoyance, “Senator tried to sneak in his plaything, only to find out she was an assassin sent to eliminate several Senators.”

“Damn. Are all men this stupid? … I’m assuming the Senator’s a man.”

“He is,” Thorn and Fox stated in unison. 

“But what do you expect? All men turn into fools around pretty women, I’m sure you’ve experienced that first hand, mesh’la,” Thorn says to you, bowing and gesturing with his hand in a slightly over-the-top way.

“Thanks, Thorn, you’re too kind,” you reply lightly, giggling a little.

Fox glanced at Thorn, turning on his private comm to speak directly with his brother, “Why are you still here?”

“Where else am I supposed to be?”

“Patrol, resting, literally anywhere else?”

“Hmmm, I’m good here.”

“You're telling me you have nowhere better to be than here, today?”

The only response Thorn gave was a light chuckle, as his helmet focused on you.

Fox let out a frustrated sigh turning to focus on you, the idea that Thorn was standing there watching you and flirting simply irritated him, “Pita, do me a favor, get in touch with Captains Jaller and Gerros see if there's been any increased activity either Underworld or in the above levels. Then coordinate with the Senate Guard to make sure they have enough guards for the Senators both on and off duty. If not we'll need to send some Coruscant Guards to fill in the gaps.” 

You simply nodded as you went to do your work.

“Bye, mesh’la,” Thorn’s voice called after you, then he turned to Fox, “Pita?” he asked.

“Pain in the ass” Fox sat at his desk ignoring his brother's boisterous laughter, “Thorn, go interrogate the assassin, find out exactly why she was here, which Senators exactly were on her list, and who she's working for.”

Thorn nodded, heading out, still laughing loudly. 

Minutes ticked by turning into hours, your hands reaching towards the ceiling, allowing you to stretch, easing out the kinks in your back. Your eyes involuntarily followed Fox, he was on the comms with the Chancellor and the Jedi counsel. He'd been on comms all night, taking the blame for allowing an unauthorized civilian to be close to a Senator. 

The annoyance you felt for him was boiling into anger, how was it Fox's fault? It was the dumbass Senator who decided to get himself a plaything. Was Fox supposed to be telling them who they could and couldn't be friends with? You stood bringing him a cup of caf as soon as he ended the call. 

“Thanks” 

“It's not fair.”

“What's not fair, Pita?” 

“How you're getting blamed for everything. How are you supposed to control who that idiot sees and doesn't see? And isn't it better that the Guards were able to stop her and detain her after she tried to kill them? It's not fair that it all falls on you.” The anger from before unleashed in your tirade, “And if they were that concerned then they should put one of those holier-than-thou Jedis at the gate using their Force or whatever to see who is a liability. Frankly, you all should've let the Senator get hurt a little. Would've served him right.” 

Fox busted out laughing, “Easy, starlight, I appreciate the sentiment, but heavy is the head who wears the crown… or helmet,” his hand motioning to his own helmet. Leaning over he unlocked his drawer and pulled out the metallic box that preserved his treats, opening it, he offered one to you. “Go ahead, you deserve one.” 

The smile etching its way on your face, made Fox's heart quicken.

“Starlight, huh? I like that better than “pita”,” you remark, “Guess this means we're at least amicable?” 

“Yeah, starlight. We're amicable.”

Send Commander Fox a prompt to continue the story

Taglist 1: @boomtowngirl @becks-things @catsnkooks @starlightrows @tailorvizsla @bitchin-beskar @acourtofsnakes @grogusmum @buzzybeebee @deannie13 @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics @the-good-shittt @everythingyouwanted @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @laichka @myeternalsin @kazthedestroyer @writeforfandoms @trekkingaroundasgard @beskarmermaid @flightlessangelwings @heyitsaloy @pickleprickle @obiwanquinzel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @cloneloverrrrr @deewithani @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @atlas-likes-writing @mysticalgalaxysalad @tazmbc1

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. lust. flirting. pining. overprotective dean. angel possessed sam. vulnerable ofc.

A/N : thank you to all who follow along with this story, your patience and support means so much. hope you enjoy 💛

Maricela’s POV

"Sam!" Dean shouts from the Command Room. His voice echoed down the hallway, reaching me before I entered the room. "You here?"

"Damn, did you forget about me already?" I quip.

With a coffee cup in hand, Dean turned and fixed his gaze on me. The sheer temptation of running my fingers through his immaculate hair was almost too powerful to withstand. His black t-shirt and matching boxers peeked behind the long, gray robe with the embroidered red initials 'T.E.P.,' on its chest pocket. It opened just enough to display his perfectly imperfect bowed legs. I bite my cheek, imagining myself walking over to Dean, knocking the cup from his hand before jumping to staddle his body, then pulling his face towards mine so our lips lock in a fervent kiss. My heart beats faster as I fantasize about him returning the passion, carrying me towards the Map Table to sit me on the edge before sliding his hands underneath my shirt as I run my fingers through his hair and down to his—

"Nice robe," I lace my compliment with sarcasm, attempting to distract myself before my thoughts go from PG-13 to Rated R.

"Nice hair."

My locks had tangled after a night's rest, resembling my bed head to a lion's mane. Other than flattening it with my bare hands, I didn't bother to run a brush through my hair, knowing it would only double the size it was now. My eyes roll at his remark as I cross my arms over my unsupported chest. The loose-fitted shirt concealed my small breasts, ones that never seemed to draw Dean's attention. The door above us opens and in walks Sam.

"Hey. Morning," he greets.

Dean checks his watch as Sam comes down the stairs. "You been outside already?"

"Yeah. Woke up, went for a run. Beautiful sunrise," Dean and I stared at the energetic man as he explained his early start. "Anyways, cleaned up. Went and got breakfast. Grabbed you guys real bacon and eggs, extra grease. Not even gonna argue."

"Mm, perfect." I hummed as we sat at the Map Table.

Dean passes a to-go box and plastic utensil my way. I open the container, and once the smell hits my nose, my stomach rumbles. Sam pulls a bag from his jacket pocket and tosses it beside my food. A smile lights up my tired face. Sam remembered to ask for ketchup packets, knowing I wouldn't eat my eggs without the condiment. He folds his jacket before setting it on the table as Dean questions him.

"Wait. You went running?"

"What? Why do you look so worried?"

"Let's see. There's Cas, who I told to haul ass here. That was days ago. He's still out there. Um, there's you."

"Me?" Sam scoffs. "I feel great."

"I'm sure you do, but Sam, you went through the trials. Okay, that put a big strain on you. I just think it's better if you took it easy, you know, and didn't act like you were—"

Sam straightens his posture, his eyes glowing before interrupting Dean, finishing with, "Possessed by an angel."

The eldest Winchester and I stare at Sam—or rather Ezekiel—taken aback by the sudden change.

"And he does feel better. A work in progress, of course, but I am slowly healing him." The angel assures us.

I put my fork down, adding, "That's great. Um, but—"

"I have news. I've picked up chatter among the angels. Not all are wandering around in confusion."

"Yeah, some of 'em are after Cas," Dean states.

"There is a faction that is rapidly organizing and finding human vessels to contain them."

"Led by Naomi?"

"I have not heard that name, no. But it is this faction's leadership who want Castiel found. You see, Dean, I can be useful."

"So can my brother. So, why don't you go check your e-mail, and if I need your help, I'll let you know."

"Dean," Zeke tries before the hunter repeats himself.

"I said I'll let you know."

As told, the angel goes back into hibernation. His eyes glow before Sam continues where he left off.

"I mean, you know, Cas is human now. It's gonna take him a lot longer to travel."

"I'm gonna get whiplash," I mumble to myself, prompting Sam to question my comment. "Nothing."

Dean clears his throat before directing the attention away from me. "Um, all right, so I was thinking that if the angels are organizing, then that makes them a lot more dangerous than we thought."

Yet, he only makes it worse.

"Why do you think they're organizing?" Sam asks, confused at the sudden, out-of-the-blue, and newfound information.

Dean stares at this brother, realizing his mistake. He hesitates, attempting to come up with a plausible explanation for the intel provided by Ezekiel just moments before.

"It makes sense," I add before biting into my bacon.

"My point is, is that the more of them that are after Cas, the worse it is, so... we got to find him." Dean finishes.

Sam nods. "I'll grab my laptop."

After breakfast, we agreed to meet in the library. Dean stood next to Sam, focused on the project before him. His attention quickly shifts as I walk in. The man's eyes scanned me from head to toe before a smirk emerged on his face. My stomach dropped, not sure whether to be insecure or elated underneath his intense gaze.

"What?" I ask, halting beside him.

"I didn't think you'd be able to tame all that hair," Dean gestures to my double-Dutch braids. "It's surprising, really."

"Shut up!" I playfully shove his torso, failing to stifle my laughter.

His flawless smile makes its limited appearance as he laughs. I shook my head as our laughter began to die, hoping to keep the blush at bay. My eyes wander past Dean and over to Sam. He wears a knowing smile, eyes flickering between his brother and me. The blush I was trying to avoid slowly rises to my cheeks, and Sam is to blame.

I tear my gaze from the Winchesters and focus on the map that's spread across the table. Three red circles, each bigger than the last, were drawn over The Centennial State. Dean traced my stare back to the map before leaning over it.

"All right, so this is where Cas called from on Tuesday—Longmont, Colorado." He began, explaining the map's context. With the tip of a closed, black Sharpie, he traces each ring for emphasis. "Each circle is how far he might have gotten in one, two, and three days out."

"Okay. Here we go," said Sam, capturing our attention. We hover over his shoulder, seeing that he hacked into the city’s police database. "The same day he called from Longmont, weird murder, same town. Cops said it was like the girl was blasted from the inside out."

"Angel kill," Dean recognized their signature killing style. "They might have just missed Cas."

"Unless they got him," I mutter.

For a moment, it was silent as we feared the worst. Sam returned to his laptop and clicked the attached news article to the report. The caption read 'TWO PRIESTS FOUND OUTSIDE ST. ANNE'S CATHEDRAL IN GRISLY MURDER.'

"You got an Emory Park, Iowa?" Sam asks his brother.

"Emory Park, Emory Park. I just saw that." Dean runs his finger along the map, searching for the town. "Yeah, a couple days outside of Longmont."

"Okay, because two priests were murdered there Thursday. Eyes blown out, evidence of torture. They were impaled on posts."

"Torture?" Dean asks aloud, resulting in Sam to assure he heard correctly.

"Angels are looking for info," I say, piecing the puzzle together.

"Man, if they get to him before we do..." Dean trails off. Sam and I reply with a 'yeah,' understanding what Dean didn't finish.

*Longmont, Colorado*

We arrived at St. Anne's Cathedral by four p.m. I exited the backseat of the Impala once Dean parked the car, not bothering to wait for whoever decided to tag along. Just as I was about to walk towards the Cathedral, a group of groundskeepers caught my eye. They gardened beside the church and near the cemetery. I cursed to myself, knowing my high heels would surely sink into the ground.

Dean stops beside me and glances in the direction I was looking at. I voice, "I think we should start with them."

"Lead the way."

His words manipulated my lips into a smile. For the first time, Dean allowed me to take the lead. No second-guessing, no doubting, no arguing. Just trust. And with that, I began my journey along the patchy grass and uneven stone walkway leading into the garden.

As we walked down the path, I spotted a man in a brown suede jacket unlocking the gated graveyard. He pulled the gates open, watching as we approached. Dean and I flash our FBI badges, introducing ourselves. Without any pushback, we asked if he recognized Castiel based on his physical description. The stranger pondered silently before entering the cemetery with us following behind.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I know this guy you're talking about," He said, taking his white and blue gardening gloves off. "Sounds like Clarence."

"Clarence?" Dean and I ask in unison.

He nods, explaining, "The church—it runs a shelter in town, and we work here. We earn our keep. Clarence spent a couple nights and then had to move on."

"And he left the day the bodies were found?" The hunter in disguise questions.

"Matter of fact… Oh, man, those poor guys were a mess. They must have suffered bad." The man spoke with despondency before cheering up. "But at least now they're with the angels."

Dean averted his eyes towards the ground before muttering, "I sure as hell hope not."

I nudged his arm as the stranger's face fell upon hearing Dean's remark.

"Clarence happen to mention where he was headed?" I ask, getting back on topic.

"No. He just said he always had to keep going."

We thanked the helpful individual before Dean began to head back to the car. I reach into my purse and pull out $40, handing it to the man who stood before me. His eyes widen before shaking his head, denying the gift. My hand reaches out again as I take a step closer.

"Please, take it. I know it isn't much, but I appreciate your help. Take it."

He hesitates but takes the twenties from my outstretched arm. Uttering his thanks, the man offers a small smile as a gesture of gratitude. I smile back and turn to leave. My eyes find Dean standing just beyond the cemetery gates, watching and waiting for me. I walk with my head down, avoiding the hunter's eyes while trying to maintain a balance between the grass and widely spaced stones.

"That was nice," said Dean.

"You sound surprised."

"No, I just—it was a nice gesture."

I shrugged, "No big deal."

Silence fell between us. I could feel his hesitation before finally asking, "Why'd you do it?"

My own hesitance to answer the loaded question stopped me in my tracks. The function in my legs returns, and I walk again as if my body didn't just slam on its emergency brakes. Memories flashed across my eyes, reminding me of the tough times I had endured as a child. I could still feel the muggy heat that nearly suffocated me, unable to cool from an air conditioner or box fan from the lack of unpaid electricity bills many Julys ago. My bones can still recount how harsh the winter air had been as we moved all our belongings from our house due to the court-ordered eviction.

"I know what it's like to be in his position, to struggle—to live day to day," I say, my head hung with embarrassment. "I remember standing in line at our local church, just waiting to be handed our share of groceries for the week. My parents had just divorced—they worked hard to provide for us, but sometimes it wasn't enough. They did their best, though. Things got better after a while. We were fortunate enough to bounce back. So, when I see those in similar situations, I don't know—I guess it hits home more than I want it to."

Dean halts once my confession is complete. I shift my gaze from the ground to meet his forest-green eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't know," he murmured.

"I didn't expect you to." I gave the hunter a small smile. "We all have a past. It shapes us into who we are. Right?"

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"Thankfully, you won't find mine online. Can't say the same about yours, though." I taunt, my smile growing wider as Dean's face drops.

"You didn't..."

"I haven't had a chance yet. We've been pretty busy."

"How did you find them?" I shrug nonchalantly, feeling the weight of his penetrating gaze on me. My eyes drifted from his narrow, intense stare as he figured out which bird sang. "It was Charlie, wasn't it?"

"What? Charlie—no, no. I don't even remember the last time I talked to her." I lie, hoping to save my friend from an unfortunate phone call.

"Uh huh," Dean grunts, clearly unconvinced.

Finally, the Impala was within eye distance. The urge to kick off my heels and complete the stretch barefoot was strong. Suddenly, as if my heels knew of my desired betrayal, my foot slipped on one of the stepping stones. My other foot quickly moved to support my balance but failed as my heel sunk into the grass. A tiny squeal left my throat, and with my eyes tightly shut, my body began to fall backward.

Adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart quickening as I free fall towards the ground. The last thing I expected was a strong pair of arms saving me from an embarrassing tumble. As if it was possible, my heart races faster. I open my eyes slowly, worried I'd be in the arms of another and not the man I loved. But when I saw his handsome face, a profound sense of relief swept through my body.

Dean leaned over me, his arm encircling my shoulders while the other supported my lower back, his eyes scanning every inch of my countenance. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." I breathed out, enarmed by the way he held me so close.

He pulls me back to my feet and grins. "Think you can manage walking back to Baby without breaking your ankles, or do I need to carry you?"

"Shut up." I crouched down to retrieve the heel that had slipped off during my stumble, dislodging it from the grass. "I'd love to see you walk in my shoes—literally."

The Winchester graciously allowed me to lean against his body as I balanced on one heel to put on the other. I try ignoring the thrill of our closeness, but his cologne fills my nose, making my head spin with a longing I’m all too familiar with. His hand resting on my hip distracts my yearning for surprise. I stand tall, and despite the added height that my heels provide, Dean still towers over me. My eyes find his own before his trail to my lips. He wouldn’t… And as I predicted, his hand falls to his side and he takes a step back.

Clearing his throat, he begins, “We should, uh…”

“Yeah,” I nod.

"All right," Dean draws his brother's attention. "Well, he's definitely been here. Good news is he's getting cagey. He's using a fake name—Clarence."

Sam amusingly scoffs, "That's what Meg used to call him. Of course, he doesn't get that's the name of a pretty famous angel."

"What?" asks Dean.

"'It's A Wonderful Life.'" Dean shakes his head, the ends of his mouth frowning, still clueless. "Dude, seriously?"

The younger Winchester looks at me for backup. "Sorry, Sammy, I'm with Dean on this one."

"Typical," he mutters under his breath.

"What'd you come up with?" Dean challenges.

"Another angel kill, outside a town called Lafayette about a day's travel east of here."

"What is that, Indiana?"

"Yeah. Body was found in a homeless camp. Insides barbecued, the whole nine."

"Homeless guy?" I ask as I lean forward and look over Sam's shoulder to read the article he had pulled up.

"No, a pharmacist from Dayton."

"Huh," Dean and I say in unison before he turns the engine to begin our trip East.

*Lafayette, Indiana*

The elevator chimed before opening on the ground floor. The lead detective steps off first, and we follow behind.

"Damnedest thing I ever saw. Vic had a stab wound, but it's not what killed him. It's like his insides were—"

"Vaporized?" Dean finishes. The detective stares at him, stunned that he hit the nail on the head. "It's been going around."

As we approach the door beside the reception desk, an officer buzzes us in. Dean holds open the door for me, and I mumble a small 'thanks' before trying to keep up with the fast men. The investigator leads us into the office space, past other detectives and officers, towards the back.

"So, this guy was a pharmacist from Ohio?" Sam asks.

"Apparently. Total family man, religious. One day, just hops in the S.U.V., takes off, dies under a bridge here from God knows what." The confident man stops near an empty desk, taking the bags of evidence from one to another. "This is his stuff. Help yourselves."

We thank the investigator as he walks around the Winchesters, and before he leaves us, he halts beside me.

"If you need anything, and I mean anything—" The detective emphasizes, a smug smile pulling at his lips while his eyes cascade down my body. "Let me know."

"I'm good." I rolled my eyes at this man's cockiness before stepping between the boys.

Sam picks up a bag of evidence as I grab the other, and we dump its contents onto the desk. I reached for the Bible, seeing if the victim wrote any clues within the margins. Dean scoffs, grabbing Sam's and my attention. He wore a scowl on his face, aiming it towards the detective. Sam and I furrowed our brows in confusion over Dean's sudden sulkiness.

"Can you believe that guy?" The eldest Winchester asks, shaking his head.

"What?" Sam inquiries.

"Did you not hear what he said to her? The man's sick. She's only 19!" Dean whisper-yells over me.

"I'm right here, D."

His eyes cut to me. They were a darker shade than usual. Somehow, it only made him sexier. He narrowed them at me, asking, "And?"

"And, I can handle some guy hitting on me."

"Well, you shouldn't have to. And I won't let it happen, not anymore."

"So what? You plan to cock block me from now on?"

"Yes!" My eyes widen at his quick response. He takes a deep breath, calming himself before saying, “You're too young to be having sex anyway."

"Dean, you started having sex at 16. You're the last person to lecture anyone about having sex too young. Leave her alone." Sam butts in.

Dean rolls his eyes, knowing if he talked anymore on the subject, he'd be a hypocrite. Without another word, he snatches the victim's phone from the desk. He begins to look through it as Sammy and I look at each other and smile in triumph. I flip through the small Bible but find nothing out of the ordinary. As I placed it back on the desk, I couldn't help but wonder why Dean cared so much.

"Anything?" The youngest Winchester asks the oldest as he walks around the desk and sits in the chair.

"Nothing weird," He continues to search while making his conclusions. "Crappy music, a lot of podcasts, all the same one. Reverend Buddy Boyle's 'Goin' For Glory Hour.'"

"Cop said he was religious."

Dean leans toward Sam and plays the video. I walk around the desk and watch with the boys.

"Join me in a heapin' helpin' of glory, friends. When you're in the presence of the divine, you'll know it. And if you let yourself, you'll hear it." The man's Southern accent cuts as Dean impatiently fast-forwards. "So, remember, when angels come a-knocking, let 'em on in."

The video ends. We look at one another, getting the very clear message the preacher was trying to convey.

"Angels can't possess a human without permission, right?" Sam asks.

"Yep." Dean answers, aggravated.

"So, what, they're using this guy to find vessels?"

"It's a willing audience," I point out.

"They're all religious types like our pharmacist here. Buddy Boyle was telling them to let the angels take them over."

"Like body snatchers," says Sam.

"How big a reach does this Boyle guy have?" I ask, prompting Sam to use the computer in front of him.

He clicks on the link: Buddy Boyle's Influence, world wide. It brought us to the Reverend's web page, displaying a world map. Red beacons were scattered across every continent, serving as markers for his loyal followers.

"Pretty much the entire planet," Sam answers.

Our eyes were wide, not expecting such a wide demographic. Without another word, we walk out of the police station.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO JAYS-BONNIE-ON-THE-SIDE

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[rosethornewrites]

NR, E, & M reading since 10/30

Finished

Not Rated:

The Untamed: With Nature's Help, by YenGirl (2 chapters)

A fun filled afternoon turns into something more meaningful thanks to some grilled trout, a thunderstorm and a cave.

What is 'white', what is 'black', by KarenF (3rd in a series, 7 chapters)

Lan QiRen learns that there is no clear divisible lines between black and white. The most important thing is the heart.

And, Wei WuXian’s Fourth Path does work splendidly in emergencies!

Explicit:

We can fix that, by Spindoctor (12 chapters)

Lan Wangji has an arranged marriage with Nie Mingjue. The marriage goes well. Then they see how starved Wei Ying is in the burial mounds. That's unacceptable. They take him home and fix it. Thoroughly.

2am on a saturday, by detectorist

“He’s so beautiful,” Lan Zhan says, tongue loosened by the weed. Besides, Mianmian’s room is his safe space. He can say what he likes here, so he does. “I want to know what his mouth tastes like. I want him to put his mouth on my—”

“No, no, no, no,” Jin Zixuan says, making an X with his arms. “For the love of Christ, keep it PG-13, please.”

—

In which Lan Zhan gets high, slides into Wei Ying's DMs, and somehow ends up having the harmonica played to him at 2am in the morning.

Wishing on Runway Lights, by inflight_gremlin (🔒, 7 chapters)

With the Chrismas holidays fast approaching, so does the storm of the century. Through it all, issue after issue, no one expected the little wishes made on runway lights to bring two strangers together like never before.

Or

Amidst flight delays and cancellations, Wei Ying finds himself taking care of a young boy left stranded at the airport. The initially unfortunate circumstances of their meeting would lead Wei Ying to meeting Lan Wangji, the child’s father. From then on, it’s a quick one way trip to falling in love.

Mature:

familiar motions, by moonxlight

Lan Wangji makes origami bunnies to cope with his emotions, in which he has many.

(Most of which are related to Wei Ying)

You Done Fucked Up, by enbysaurus_rex (5 chapters)

Jiang Cheng almost kills Wei Wuxian (again), but this time, he fucks up and it's on Lan territory. A very, very long come-to-Jesus moment, enforced by the Lan brothers and the Lan juniors.

the soft animal of your body, by howodd5ever

The problem was that he didn’t remember anymore why he’d left. Sure, something about finding himself or discovering his place in the world, or whatever other bullshit he’d talked himself into to end up in the middle of nowhere. Alone.

He missed Lan Zhan.

Wei Wuxian sets off alone after the events at Guanyin Temple and finds himself in pretty serious trouble.

clouds in the whites of our eyes, by butchgoth (GremlinGirl)

“About-about earlier, I…”

“I misunderstood. My fault.”

“What? You didn’t misunderstand. I don’t think.” He smiled, rubbing at his arm. The snap in the air was as crisp as biting into ice chips, and goosebumps were rising on his skin. “Uh, okay, um, this is really weird for me. I...don’t remember you.”

Lan Wangji slowly glanced over at him, his lips twitching into a frown. “What?”

“Yeah…” He tipped his head back, looking up at the stars. He’d always been able to see more when he’d lived out on the lake in Yunmeng, but the city wasn’t half-bad. “This is uh…”

“The doctors said you were fine.”

His head twisted, and Wei Wuxian stopped walking. Lan Wangji did as well, as if on instinct, and they stared at each other. “Yeah, well...I wasn’t. I don’t remember much of the hospital, but...I know what jiejie told me. After the accident...I woke up, everything was fine for about a week. I was going in and out of consciousness, but I seemed to be improving. But, then I had a seizure. And then another one. And another one. They took me for an MRI, and my brain was swelling.” He twisted up his lips, and Lan Wangji reached out for him, only to pull his hand back at the last second.

used to want you dead (now i only want you gone), by Ariaste

“It is not a coup,” Meng Yao says, which he has said at every weekly covert cheeseburger assignation since they began doing them. “A coup is, quote: a sudden, violent, and illegal seizure of power from a government. Unquote.”

“The HOA counts as a governing body. Trying to take it over is a coup.”

***

Two gremlins, eating cheeseburgers in the car in a parking lot at 1am, five feet apart because they're not friends.

Unfinished

Not Rated:

The Cultivation World Needs a Reset, by FangirlingIsLife

Do not succumb to anger.

It was one of the founding rules of the Lan Clan and yet Lan Zhan could feel nothing other than a cold fury filling his veins.

He watched as his husband in all but ceremony let himself fall to Jiang Cheng’s blade.

Even at his death, his soul mate would never raise a hand to defend himself against their tyranny.

Well fuck that.

i want to live a real life, by stvrrylost

In the wake of his first death, Wei Wuxian, the only child of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, had left his husband, Lan Zhan, a letter and a son, a small four year old boy, nearly five year old, to look after.

In the wake of his second, Wei Wuxian had left him a child again, only this time, the child was himself, nearly thirty years ago.

Explicit:

Now that I am awake, by jalpari

As long as the sea is bound to wash up on the sand…

and the stars are shining above…

we will meet again....

Or; the post-canon LWJ/WWX getting together and JC & WWX reconciliation fic I began writing long before any of my other wangxian stories.

The Threads of Fate, by WaitForTheSnitch

“What would you do if you could have him back?” Nie Huaisang asked him, a bit too seriously as he leaned forward.

“There is no way for a dead cultivator to return,” Jiang Cheng scoffed, not even willing to entertain the thought.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Nie Huaisang shrugged, “Even if he came back, that wouldn’t do much to help, would it? Your sister is still gone. His reputation still damaged.”

“Stop speaking in riddles,” Jiang Wanyin growled, “What did you come here for, Nie Huaisang?”

“I asked you what you would do for your brother back,” Nie Huaisang started, “I would do anything to have mine back, Jiang Wanyin. And I’m here to offer you that same choice. Because our brothers’ deaths never should have happened. They happened because of schemes and plots. They happened because of lies and deception. Your brother was made to be a villain and was led to his death because he was too powerful. Mine was murdered because he stood in the way of Jin Guangshan.”

There's nothing Jiang Cheng wouldn't do to have his siblings back. And when Nie Huaisang comes to him with a proposal to save them by changing everything, he doesn't even hesitate to agree.

Mature:

You and Me (We Have History), by TheImpossibility

This was so typical of Wei Wuxian. He had an uncanny knack for being absent when he was needed, and present when he was not. Jiang Cheng wanted him to be gone, needed him to be dead —no he didn’t— but there he was, aimlessly wandering around Yunmeng without a trace of his memory.

It was maddeningly typical of him.

Jiang Cheng felt an overwhelming urge to scream.

我心中的恐怖；forever haunting me, by bonesbythesea

“Blood splatter across a snowy mountain was what greeted Wei Wuxian. Lan Zhan unmoving in Wen Ning’s arms, truly the jade statue he was described to be.”

Lan Zhan's punishment, but what if it happened way before the siege?

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: this is entirely self indulgent btw (which is ironic bc I /can/ swim but idc I just want an excuse for Luci to hold me okay😭))

(Ironic bc as soon as I started writing this, Milk of the Siren by Melanie Martinez started playing lmao)

(If you don't know, it's basically about getting revenge on men and drowning them)

Word Count: 1,422

Summary: Lucifer finds out MC doesn't know how to swim and decides to change that

Warnings: don't know if this needs to be a warning but: reader can't swim (obvi)

Age Rating: Pg 13

Swimming Lessons: Lucifer x Fem! Reader

------------------------

'I can do this... It's gonna be fine, I'm gonna be fine.'

You're standing at the door to the RAD pool as you try to steel yourself for what's to come.

.

The House of Lamentation had gone for a beach day a week prior; just taking a day to wind down from exams and student council duties. You had managed to keep your inability to swim a secret for most of the day under the guise of keeping Beel from eating all the snacks.

All good things must come to an end, though. Cue Mammon chasing you down to throw you in the ocean.

All you could do was panic as you desperately tried to keep your head above the waves. Your feet slipping as the sand gave under you, unable to support the weight of your hysteric kicking.

But just as fast as you were thrown in, you're pulled out.

You sputter as you wiped the salty water from your eyes, your arm in someone's vice grip as they yank you to land. Looking to your savior, you're met with am angry Lucifer glaring at your assailant.

"I really should stop expecting you to start acting like the second oldest brother. No matter what punishments you recieve, no matter how many lectures, you never seem to grow up. It's one thing when you cause problems for yourself, it's a completely different problem when you almost kill an exchange student. You're a sorry excuse for an avatar, Mammon."

"Hey!- That's not fair! How's I s'posed to know the human can't swi-"

"Enough! Everybody, start packing. We're going home." The groans and protests are silenced with a cold glare leveled towards them.

One by one the brothers file off to gather everything with the occasional (read: frequent) insult or snide comment to the second born.

.

After the ordeal was done and everyone was back at the HoL, Lucifer had cornered you in your room.

You were unpacking your beach bag when he came in, door clicking shut behind him.

"You can't swim." He doesn't ask.

"What of it?" You ask, looking over your shoulder at him as you gather your bathing suit and towel to throw in the laundry hamper.

"Why?"

You shrug, moving back to your bag to put away your sunglasses and spf. "I don't know, I just never learned."

Minutes pass in silence as he watches you unpack, the only noise is the ruffling of your bag accompanied with the occasional clack of something dropping.

Eventually he breaks the silence. "Would you like to?"

"Like to what?"

"Would you like to learn to swim?"

You stop to think about it. "Um, I feel like I would just get embarrassed... Most people learn when they're kids and the ones that don't, rarely learn. I mean, can you really imagine me in a pool surrounded by literal children who swim better than me?"

You chuckle at the mental image of yourself with water wings on. "I think I'll pass."

"I was referring to me teaching you." He still hasn't moved from his sentry position as you shuck your now empty bag into your closet.

"Like, alone? With you? In a pool? With water?" No offense to him but you feel like all it would take is one wrong move and you'll have annoyed him to the point of drowning you. You tell him so, earning a rare Lucifer smile.

"You'll be safe." He muses. "I have an inclination that Lord Diavolo wouldn't take too kindly to me killing one of his exchange students. Much less one of his favorite ones."

"Ha ha," you fake. "Funny, though I'm far from his favorite.'

"But I guess I'll trust you."

.

So here you are, about to potentially enter your very own death chamber.

'Oh, god- It's not going to be fine.' Your heart starts to pick up but before you can fully freak out you hear a voice from inside.

"Are you going to come in or just stare at the door?" Lucifer calls from the other side of the door.

No turning back now. You push the surprisingly heavy door open, revealing an even more surprisingly sized pool. It easily puts an Olympic sized swimming pool to shame. You can scarcely see the bottom even in the so-called shallow end.

Lucifer is already in, arms holding his upper body out of the water as he waits for you to join him. You can't lie, you're having a bit of a struggle to not stare at his toned arms and what you can see of his sculpted chest.

"Come on, the water isn't going to bite."

"Says you," you mutter as you strip to your swimsuit. You pad over to the edge, sitting down to put your legs in first. Taking a deep breath, you push off, keeping a death grip on the siding.

A couple feet separate you from the avatar of pride.

"Okay, now push off and try to pad over to me." He holds out a hand to you.

"I thought you were supposed to be teaching me?" You're trying not to panic or look into the depths beneath you.

"I am. I need to see what you can do before I can help with what you can't." He states, gesturing you towards him.

"If I die, I swear to god, I will haunt you for the rest of your life. If you think Mammon is bad, just you wait until you see what ghost Y/n has in store for you." With one last proclamation of wrath, you shove off, more tossing yourself towards him than paddling over to him, but that's as much as he's getting from you.

As soon as your head submerges, you panic, arms flailing as you try to reach out to Lucifer. You feel his hand grip your forearm as he hauls you back up. It's when you clear your eyes of the awful, chlorinated water that you notice he had moved the both of you further into the pool. There's no way you can reach the siding from here.

"Fucking hell!" You scramble to cling tighter to Lucifer. "I'm gonna die. This is how I die-"

"Calm down," he interrupts. "You are going to die if you don't stop panicking."

He pulls you away from his body, causing your nails to dig further into his skin. "Look at me."

You do. Panting with pupils blown from fear.

"Are you drowning?"

"I-" "Are you?"

You swallow. "No."

"Exactly, and I told you I wouldn't let you; do you think I'm going back on my word not even 5 minutes in?"

"No..."

"Okay then. you said you'd trust me, so do so. Kick your legs lightly. Almost in a pedaling rhythm." He instructs. "We're going to start with keeping you above the surface."

And so, your legs start moving, the force of the water pushing back with each movement is a bit odd, but not too bad.

When you get a good rhythm going Lucifer drops your arms. "Keep kicking and stay calm."

You start to sink a bit but try to stay calm.

"Kick a bit harder."

You start to gain back face-to-water distance and you let yourself get excited.

"I'm doing it!-" In the process of celebrating, you stop kicking.

Just before your head goes under, Lucifer pulls you up yet again.

"What happened to 'keep kicking'?" He asks.

You look up to answer, only to find that his face is way closer than you thought. All too sudden, you're aware of his tight hold around your waist and how your chests press together as your hands rest on his shoulders. Your legs lightly brush against each other as you both kick to stay afloat.

"..."

"..."

Neither of you break the silence as your eyes stay locked together.

Are you going insane, or is his face getting closer?

No, it definitely is. Your noses bump as Lucifer tilts to the side. Your eyes are sliding shut and your lips are a hair's width apart when the pool door slams open.

Both of you jump apart as much as you can without him letting you sink. Luke stands at the entrance, staring at you with a look of shock.

"I- I was looking for Beelzebub- He... He ate the last of a cake I made and ran. I- Sorry." With that the angel scurries away, effectively taking the tension with him.

"..."

"I think we're done for the day." Lucifer says.

"Yep. Completely."

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, October 26th - Sunday, October 27th

Buffy: You also might wanna avoid words like 'amenable' and 'indecorous', y'know. Speak English, not whatever they speak in, um... Giles: England? Buffy: Yeah. You just say, 'Hey, I got a thing, you maybe have a thing, maybe we could have a thing.' Giles: (sarcastically) Oh, thank you, Cyrano.

~~Some Assembly Required~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

New Year’s Tradition by veronyxk84 (Buffy, Dawn, PG-13)

Тосканский медовый месяц by B_E_S (Buffy/Angel, M, in Russian)

Awake And Unafraid by carryingstarlightinherwake (Buffy & Giles, G)

PARTY PREP by KNZ1 (Dawn, Joyce, Buffy, Mature, author used an Underage warning but there is no sexual activity)

The Sound of Silence by Joan963z (Buffy/Spike, not rated (death warning))

enchanted to meet you by untiljanuary (Buffy/Spike, M)

Dead Serious by prose-for-hire (Giles x male!Ghost!reader, not rated)

Tricked by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Twisted Leash by The Danish Bird (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Lovesick Weirdos by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

A bouquet of flowers for Valentine's Day by Miss Kitty (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Welcome Home - Chapter 1 by GiftoftheOHenry (Angel & Connor, ensemble, not rated)

Potential Friend: Season Two - Chapter 1 by srmcd1 (Jesse, ensemble, Amy/Jesse, canon relationships, T)

A Man in Shadow - Chapter 1 by zabjade (Buffy, Spike, T)

The Prophecy - Chapter 1-2 by bookxish (Buffy/Angel, Explicit)

Time to Heal (4) by spuffybaby (Buffy/Spike, not rated)

Always, Ch. 1 by by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Sketches: Connor time by artsying-ifer (worksafe)

SPUFFY + text posts by clarkgriffon (Buffy/Spike, some NSFW text)

Icons from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992) by nostalgc (Movie Buffy, worksafe)

Manips: I don’t want to be buried in a pet sematary by spyder-baby (Buffy, worksafe, death)

Mood board: Buffy Summers & the Vampires She Took Home by tenderjock (Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

()

Collage and video rec: Favorite vampire/non-vampire dynamic by veronyxk84 (Spike & Joyce, worksafe)

Collage: Favorite vampire fashion/style by veronyxk84 (Drusilla, worksafe)

Cosplay: “No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take all that away and what’s left?” “Me” by 20000dollarnosebleed (Buffy, worksafe)

Buffy gives Giles dating advice, from the episode Some Assembly Required. Watercolour on paper. by ghostrabbit87 (Scoobies, worksafe)

Drawing: And hold me again... by o-cm-draw-o (Buffy/Spike, probably NSFW)

Collage #215: We should probably start snuggling now by thedecadentraven (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Collage #216: She stands firmly on her own two feet by thedecadentraven (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Vidlet: Hate me by Jmpeck (Buffy Summers)

Fanvid: buffy the vampire slayer - this is war by Giulia Wonderwall

Fanvid: I Love You, I'm Sorry by Aurora Edits (Buffy/Spike)

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Revival Season 10 Episode 21: The First Flare by Buffy the Vampire Slayer Chosen

Music: Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Rob Scales | EPIC COVER by Rob Scales

Fanvid: With You Til The End by iCraveEdits (Buffy Summers and Spike +Angel)

Fanvid: There for you by ZNellyZ (Buffy/Spike)

Vidlet: that's so true. by btvstragic (Buffy/Angel)

Buffy from the first season in the Roblox dress up game Dress to Impress by vanessinhadoorkut (worksafe)

Angel cosplay by ColdLaK (worksafe)

Buffy cosplay by jim_balsamic (Buffy, worksafe)

Bringer pumpkin by NessaKins91 (worksafe)

Spike and Drusilla cosplay by pyxiedust219 and partner (worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Some scattered thoughts on rewatching Hush by coraniaid

Podcast: Episode 035 - Anne by Boys Watching Buffy

Podcast: Buffy's Angels: The Pack by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Video: First Date-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: The Failed Buffy the Vampire Slayer Spinoffs Explained by Star Spot Reviews

Video: 10 Reasons the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Movie Holds Up in 2024 by Veneto

Podcast: Once More, With Spoilers: 0.00 Trailer | A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Podcast by Buffering: A Rewatch Adventure

Podcast: Buffy's Angels: Lonely Heart by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Podcast: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 3 Episode 5 - Beauty and the Beasts by Sh*t 90s Shows Taught Me

The Puppet Show' - Up The Buff!

The Killer in Me by Nostromo87

[Recs & In Search Of]

regala_electra's Buffy/Angel story Set Your Hope On Fire recced by iwillrememberyoumarathon mods

Fic recs: Post-series Spuffy Fan Fiction Master List, part III by kliomuse

[Community Announcements]

Signups are open for Buffyverse Secret Santa! They will close on November 10.

[Fandom Discussions]

Honestly buffy is so fucking funny like here is boyfriend number 1 by claratyler

A Kendra appreciation post by loisfreakinglane

Discord screenshots: my development into a spangel shipper by notdamien

was going through my spuffy folder (as one does) and saw this pic from as you were... by silvermars

Principal Wood by silvermoon and others

Does Buffy like cheese cause she was turned into a rat? by CountChocoula

Old Norse in Buffy by moses616

Buffy's anger at Faith by yeahitsme9

Faith's season 3 storyline by No_Pineapple_9820

Video: 15 Most Powerful Vampires From Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Backstories And Powers Explained by Marvelous Videos

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

James Marsters to Attend GalaxyCon Oklahoma City 24-25 May 2025 via dontkillspike

James Marsters Winnipeg Comiccon 2024 Reports, Pics & Videos via dontkillspike

Amber Benson will be at Prism Convention June 27th - 29th 2025

JAMES MARSTERS talks Supanova Comic Con, Music, Dragonball and Inspiration Behind Spike on the Everblack Podcast

Q&A: Buffy the Vampire Slayer star James Marsters on Winnipeg City News

Want to know where James Marsters will be in 2024? Then check out this handy pic! by jamie_marsters

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[littlespacereader]

Hello,

Um, I just found your blog and I did a little scan/quick read through your intro post, and um I was wondering as a minor who age regresses (I'm pretty new to it), can I um interact with your posts/writing ?

I just wanted to ask so I don't overstep any boundaries or anything :)

🌑

Thank you so much for writing and asking!

My blog is for everyone +13💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Let me explain. My account is always SFW. Just like Age regression is SFW.

So why the +13? Well some of the fandoms I write for are rated PG 13. If I have any violence, cursing or anything of that order in my fics then I will always put a warning at the beginning to let you know.

Thank you again for asking! Welcome to my Blog!💞

[cherrycola27]

Until I Found You

Table 13

That's what the card in your hand read as you scanned the gala floor for your seat for the evening. Normally, most people would consider thirteen to be an unlucky number, but for you, it was the opposite.

Thirteen had been your lucky number for as long as you could remember, and maybe it would bring you some luck tonight during yet another Navy function you had to sit through alone.

It was one of the downsides of being a woman in the Navy, especially a fighter pilot. Many men found you intimidating, and it made it hard to find a serious relationship.

You gazed out at all the beautifully dressed women who were draped on the arms of handsome men, and for a fleeting moment, wished you had that.

You must have been lost in thought and not paying attention because the next thing you know, you're colliding with a man in dress whites.

He reaches out to catch you and make sure you're stable on your feet.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, wasn't watching where I was going." He apologized. You look up and meet the most beautiful honey brown eyes you've ever seen.

"Don't be sorry, I was the one who wasn't paying attention." You reply quickly.

"Are you alright?" He asks. "Yes, I'm fine, just looking for my table for the evening." You tell him smoothing out the front of your dress and taking in his features.

He's tall, over six feet for sure, broad shoulders, curly , golden-brown hair. He has a mustache that should have gone out of fashion in the eighties, but somehow, he makes it work.

"What table are you at? Maybe I can help you find it. It's the least I can do after running into you. Unless you have a date you're waiting on—" He trails off, you can tell he is looking over you just like you were him.

Suddenly, you're thankful you chose to wear the emerald green dress that made your strawberry locks pop.

You were also thankful for the tasteful slit and low back that left just enough to the imagination.

"No date, I'm flying solo, which is how I normally fly anyway." You chuckle out a laugh. God, you must sound pathetic. He quirks his eyebrow at you.

"Pilot?" He questions. "Yes. Single seater, so I literally fly solo." You say trying to recover.

"So do I." He tells you. "Well something we have in common." You grin, starting to calm down and recover from your awkwardness.

"And your table number?" He asks, gesturing to the small slip of paper in your hand. "Oh, um thirteen." You reply cooly.

"Something else we have in common. I'm at thirteen as well. Care for an escort?" He extends his arm to you, and you take it without hesitation.

"What's your name ma'am?" He asks as you make your way to the table

"Lieutenant Y/N Miller, but you can call me Georgia. That's my call sign." You tell him.

"Well, nice to meet you, Lieutenant Miller. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, but you can call me Rooster." He replies as you two make it to the table. He pulls your chair out for you as you sit.

"Such a gentleman, your mother must have raised you right." You stare.

"She tried to before she passed." He replies.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You grimace, not sure what to say.

"It's fine." He smiles back at you. "So why do they call you Georgia?" He asks taking the seat next to you.

"Because everyone says I'm like a peach, sweet on the outside, tough on the inside. But I didn't want to be called 'Peach' for my call sign. I'm pretty sure that's a stripper name." He snorts out a laugh.

"So why do they call you Rooster? Does it have a PG meaning behind it, or is it a little more X-rated?" You ask, leaning closer to him and placing your hand on his leg. He chokes on his water, shocked by your boldness.

"Well—um—" He laughs and takes another drink.

"It's a bit of a nod to my dad. He was a RIO. He died when I was about two in a training accident. His call sign was Goose, with two Os, that was the joke he'd make. So I wanted to have something similar. Rooster has two Os, also I've always been an early riser, so it made sense" He explains as a blush creeps across his face.

"I'm not buying it." You say taking a sip of your water.

He looks at you confused. "Maybe that's what you tell people, but I don't think it's as PG as you make it out to be. I'll have to ask your date." You reply, leaning back into your chair.

"I'm flying solo tonight too ma'am" He replies with a smile.

"Well, look at us, two peas in a pod, huh?" You grin.

As the evening goes on the two of you swap stories and witty remarks. He learns that you've just transferred to San Diego to teach at Top Gun. He is internally excited that you'll be working together.

Later, after speeches are made and dessert has been served, a band plays, and a dance floor opens up.

"Care to join me?" He asks, extending a hand.

"I'd be delighted." You reply.

He's light on his feet as he leads you through a few songs. Suddenly, a familiar melody creeps into your ears.

"Georgia, wrap me in your all, I want you in my arms—" Rooster begins singing the beginning of the song to you softly.

You smile and chuckle at his actions as he spins you.

"So, why are you single?" He asks almost out of the blue.

"I'm in the Navy, fly fast planes, never in one place too long. Intimidates most men." You explained. He nods.

"What about you?" You counter. "You're handsome, polite, well mannered, can dance... how come no girl's scooped you up yet?"

"I've found that a lot of the women I've tried to date don't want anything serious with me. They want a cool story to tell their friends. And I don't want that. I want a love like my parents had. I want to be in love with someone so much it hurts." He tells you.

"My mom, even after my dad died, never remarried. I asked her about it one time, and she told me it wouldn't be fair for her to try and love someone else because she could never be IN love with them. My dad was it for her. If I can find something like that, then maybe I won't be single." He finishes.

"That's beautiful." You say as the song finishes and you break apart. You notice the time on a clock on the wall. "Wow, it's getting late." You say.

"Yeah, it is, can I walk you to your car?" Rooster asks you.

"Actually, I'm staying here at the hotel. But you could walk me to my room. Not for that reason!" You tell him quickly as he smirks.

"But, I have enjoyed your company tonight, Mr. Bradshaw and I'd like a few more minutes of your time." You clarify.

"Of course." He states as you grab your things. He walks with you out of the ballroom and to the elevator. You punch in your floor number and wait in comfortable since until the bell chimes.

The two of you walk down the hall until you reach your door.

"Well, this is me." You say turning to face him.

"Georgia, I hope I'm not being too forward—" Rooster begins, "but I've had a great time with you this evening. Could I have your phone number so I could take you on a real date sometime?" He asks you almost shyly.

"Of course you can." You tell him. He quickly hands you his phone, and you type in your number. You send a quick text to yourself so you have his.

"And what do you mean by a 'real date', that's what I thought this was?!" You laugh and lightly push his chest.

"What makes you think this was a real date?" He asks laughing with you.

"Well, I mean, dinner, dancing, drinks, great conversation, and you walked me home. Here I was thinking I was going to get a goodnight kiss. Guess I was wrong about that." You laugh again.

"Well, when you put it that way, it does sound like a real date." Rooster smiles at you.

"So, is that goodnight kiss still on the table then?" You ask, looking up to meet his eyes.

Rooster doesn't answer, instead he places his hands on your waist and gently leans down to kiss you.

The kiss is sweet, slow, and romantic.

You both pull away breathless and smile at each other.

"Goodnight, Rooster." You tell him as you open your door.

"Goodnight, Georgia. I look forward to our second real date." He says before turning and walking down the hallway.

"Bradshaw, what's got you so giddy this morning?" Hangman asked Rooster as the two of them walked into the briefing room the next Monday morning. The Daggers would be getting their new class and co-teacher assignments for the next group of Top Gun recruits today. Rooster had been looking for you all morning on base.

"Nothing Hangman. Just had a good weekend is all." Rooster replied, quickly taking a seat.

"Had fun at that gala, huh?" Jake asked with a teasing smile on his face.

"You end up taking a pretty girl home?" Ha asked Rooster.

"No, but I did get a beautiful woman's phone number, and if I'm lucky, she'll be my co-teacher" Rooster informed him.

"Rooster, you sly dog." Jake smirked.

You quickly made your way down the hall to the briefing room you had been directed to. You were getting your first assignment as an official teacher here at Top Gun, and you were extremely excited. You were also hoping to see Rooster again today. The two of you had been texting all weekend, and you had plans to go out with him and some of his friends tonight at the Hard Deck. However he made it clear that this was not your official first, or second date, but a chance for you to meet and get to know everyone, and he also let you know that he had full intentions on taking you out, for real, he said.

You slipped into the room and scanned the group of pilots and WSOs. There were a few women, but not many. Soon, you spotted a set of familiar brown curls.

You walked over to where he sat and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me? This seat taken?" You ask. He looks up to meet your gaze, and a smile instantly spreads across his face. "For you? Never." He replies before you sit down.

You can hear the hushed whispers of what you can assume in one of his friends teasing him.

The man at the front of the room, Captain Mitchell, or Maverick, as you would later learn, rattles off assignments for the group.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, you'll be working with Lieutenant Miller. She's new to us from the East Coast, and I trust that you will show her the proper way things are done around here." Maverick explains.

"Yes, sir... I'll do my best." Rooster assures him.

"I'm sure you will Rooster." His friend from earlier cackles out.

That night, you met the rest of the Dagger Squad, including the other pilot from earlier, Hangman. You got along well with everyone, which made Rooster happy. The thought that someone he was interested in getting along with his little found family made everything so much better.

That weekend, he took you out on a real date just as he had promised.

That real date turned into several more. Three months later, you were curled up with him in the couch in his apartment when you said it.

"I love you, Bradley." You stated, cupping his face in your hands.

You had used his first name, so he knew you really meant it.

"I love you to Y/N." He spoke back earnestly before kissing you and taking you to bed to show you that he did infact love you.

From then on, everything seemed to flow naturally between you and Rooster.

A week later, against the advisement of Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy, you were moving in. But Rooster didn't listen to them, he didn't care what they had to say. He knew in his heart he had found the kind of love his mom talked about. He knew you were the one for him.

Three weeks after you moved in, your family came out to San Diego. Your father was a three star admiral, and your mother was a retired captain. They wanted to see how you were settling in at your new position.

Your parents and your brother immediately took to Rooster and loved him almost as much as you did. You didn't know it, but on the visit, Rooster had asked for your father's blessing, and he had gladly given it to him. He told Rooster he had never seen you so happy before.

From the day you met Rooster to the day he proposed to you, you had known each other seven months.

You had no clue it was coming. He had truly taken you by surprise.

You had spent the day shopping and getting mani pedis with Phoenix and Halo. The three of you had become close as the only women instructors.

When you arrived home that evening, Rooster was nowhere to be found. Instead, a bouquet of peach roses and a note greeted you.

You read the note that Rooster had left, which directed you to get ready for a special date and make sure you wear the new dress he had laid out for you.

You tumbled up the stairs giggling. Once in the bedroom, you noticed a beautiful emerald green dress, and some golden sandals were waiting for you.

After quickly refreshing your makeup and doing your hair, you changed into the outfit.

Moments later, your phone chimed with a text from Rooster, letting you know he was downstairs waiting for you.

He was leaning against the side of the Bronco, waiting for you when you came down the stairs.

"Georgia, you look—amazing" He greeted you before helping you in the car.

The ride to dinner was quiet, but a comfortable quiet.

The two of you ate at a new Italian restaurant on the water. After dessert, Bradley had insisted the two of you go for a walk to watch the sunset. You had happily agreed.

Now here you were walking hand in hand along the sand as the sun sank down and painted the sky a beautiful pink and orange.

"Georgia," Rooster began as the two of you stopped.

"Yes Rooster?" You replied facing him.

"I never thought I would meet anyone like you. Someone who was smart, funny, kind, beautiful. Someone who wanted me for me. Someone who didn't care that I wasn't perfect. Honestly, I never thought I would find someone who loves me the way you do." Bradley explained as he took your hands in his.

Tears sprang into your eyes as you realized what was happening. "Bradley I—" but he cut you off before you could finish.

"If you had told me seven months ago that a chance meeting at a Navy gala would have led me to meeting my soul mate, I would have told you that you were crazy, but now, I'm so thankful that it did." He smiled at you as some stray tears slipped down your face. Rooster knelt down in front of you.

"Georgia, that night I told you that I would never fall in love until I found someone to love like my parents loved each other. And when my mom told me about that kind of love all those years ago, I never understood what she meant by it. Until I found you. Then suddenly, everything she ever said made sense. So, Georgia, Y/N, will you marry me?"

You couldn't stop the tears from falling at his words.

"Yes!" You breathed out. "Yes, Bradley, I'll marry you!" You beamed. He rose up from the sand and kissed you before placing the ring on your hand.

You held it up and admired it. It was a simple round cut diamond set in a gold band. I was a classic, elegant piece. The most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"It was my mother's." He tells you. "Bradley—" you gasp as he pulls your hand to him and kisses it.

"Before she died, she made me promise that I would keep it and give it to the next Mrs. Bradshaw. I always knew that I whoever I gave it to would have to be someone just as special as she was. She— they would have loved you, honey." He tells you.

His words have you crying even harder now as he pulls you in for another kiss.

You break apart and smile at him. The two of you walk back to his car as the sun dips below the horizon.

You travel back to the Hard Deck, where a celebration is waiting for the two of you. Everyone is so excited and happy for the two of you.

Maverick almost loses it when Rooster tells him that he gave you Carole's ring. "There's no one more deserving of it, Kid." He says before hugging you tightly.

As the night winds on, Rooster beckons you over to the piano. He takes a seat on the bench and pulls you into his lap.

His fingers dance across the keys before a familiar melody, one you know all too well, fills the room.

You sigh as fresh, happy tears slip out of the corner of your eyes. You lean back against Rooster as his voice fills the bar. Your smile stretches from ear to ear as you look at him while he sings, happier than you've ever been.

"Oh I used to say 'I would never fall in love again, until I found her'

I said, 'I would never fall, unless it's you I fall into'

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

I found you"

Eeek! I hope everyone enjoyed this! This is the first of my contributions to @roosterforme 's love is in the air challenge! I hope you all enjoyed this piece inspired by "Until I Found You"

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme

[morganwrites12672]

Kate Bishop x Barton!Reader

This is what won my most recent poll!

Summary: Kate fell for Clint's bow wielding daughter.

Warnings/Tags:

Rating: PG-13

---------------------------------------------------------

Kate watched as you collected all of your arrows. She felt like it might be a tad bit creepy to watch you.

But it was just a coincidence, right? She just happened to have memorized when you used the gym and training facilities.

"Hey Bishop."

Kate froze when she heard your voice. She glanced up from her bow, which she was cleaning, and looked at you.

Your hair was up in a ponytail, and you were wearing a leggings and sports bra set. She thought you were gorgeous, even all sweaty.

"I'm, hi yeah, I'm Kate," she stumbled over her words as a blush spread across her cheeks. She sounded like an idiot.

"Cool bow," you said and she blushed even deeper. You were just giving her a fairly minor compliment, but she was star struck.

"Um, thanks. I even got your dad to sign it," she said. You laughed and she couldn't tell if she said something wrong or right.

"He talks about you a lot more then he would admit," you said before running off to the showers.

Kate watched you leave and she couldn't believe it. You had talked to her, Yn Barton had talked to her.

She picked up her bow before walking to the elevator. She hoped she would run into you again soon, you were both staying in rooms on the same floor.

The elevator dinged and Kate got out before walking to her door. She opens the familiar door before walking inside and shutting it behind her.

She sets her bow on it's stand and looks around. Her room was still a little empty. She had only moved in to the avengers tower a few months ago. Her training had been to time consuming for her to really do much decorating.

There were only a few photos framed on her wall. A team photo, and a few of her with clint. And her personal favorite, a selfie of the two of you.

She attempted to gather the courage to ask you out many times. How did she even know if you were bisexual or lesbian? What if you were straight? She needed to find out.

----------------------------------------------------------

"So, has Yn gotten a boyfriend yet?" Kate asked Clint. He was practicing with a new type of bow. Yet, he still made every shot bullseye.

"No, she actually doesn't care for guys if you know what I mean. But she's still single," Clint replied before smiling.

"Why are you asking?" Clint asked Kate.who's face turned a shade of maroon.

"I, um just," she gestured around before running out of the archery center. She was caught.

She was headed straight to your room. She wasn't going to ask you out, but she could talk to you. Maybe you would fall in love with her.

She didn't even get time to knock, you opened the door. She begins blushing again and doesn't know what to do.

"I heard your footsteps," you explain and step aside so she can come inside of your room.

She smiles before coming inside.

"Do you wanna get lunch?" You ask and Kate blushes, "Like as a date?" You add and Kate doesn't know what to say.

"My dad texted," you say with a light blush. Your father had texted and told you to make a move already. The tension between the two of you was killing him.

"Of course!" She said, just a little bit to excited, "Shit sorry. I mean sure," she said and laughed a little.

"Let's go," you say and grab your phone before leading Kate out of the room.

Kate couldn't help the pep in her step as she walked with you. She was excited.

----------------------------------------------------------

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[dispatchvampire]

Damsel in This Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Not many, probably mostly swearing. This is just a bit of fluff.

Rating: PG-13 mostly for language

WC: 1000-ish.

Summary: Layla finds herself stranded at a Stark gala, with her terrible ex circling like a shark. Enter an unlikely savior in the form of one smoking hot Winter Soldier.

Most people would be absolutely elated to be a guest at a Tony Stark party. All the glitz and glamour, celebrities at every turn and, in Layla’s case, not a single place to hide, dammit. 

She wasn’t there as an actual guest, really a plus one for her parents, who actually were the guests of Mr. Stark as newly minted business partners. They just merged the R&D department of their alternative energy company to Stark Industries, where she was due to start work in the following weeks. By all rights, Layla should be over the moon with the trajectory of her life. 

‘Should’ being the operative word. No, the rain on her parade came in the form of Charleton Zednik, son and heir apparent of a separate business partner of both her parents and Mr. Stark. He also happened to be her absolutely abysmal ex. 

As tight as her cocktail dress was, somehow Charleton managed to cling even more tenaciously. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most charitable thought, but she’d rather have a raging case of herpes than carry on one more day with his bland ass. He was so rigid, she wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t shatter if he hit the ground for any reason, and what he lacked in imagination, he more than made up for in possessive personality. Since she’d broken up with him over two weeks ago, he’d been blowing up her phone, her socials, and had even had her parents lobbying on his behalf. 

On paper, they were the perfect couple, two scions of an up-and-coming green energy revolution, and if arranged marriage was still a thing, Layla knew she would have been out the door the moment Charleton first looked in her direction. Her parents meant well, she knew, but damn if they weren’t still unreasonably old school about some things. 

It was late in the evening and she found herself alone, at the bar, relishing her reprieve as Charleton had to step away and take a work call. Hopefully he’d be gone long enough for her Uber to arrive so she could make a break for it. She ordered a double lemon drop while she waited. 

“You look how I feel,” a gruff male voice beside her remarked as her martini glass appeared in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Layla was mid-sip as she turned to reply to the kind inquiry and promptly choked on her drink. In front of her was Bucky Goddamn Barnes. The Winter-Fucking-Soldier, all six feet four inches of him, in an impeccably tailored tux, with his luscious dark hair artfully tied back and sea-glass blue eyes soft with concern. 

Flailing for a napkin, she nodded her thanks as he pressed several into her hand. “Um, yeah. Thanks,” she choked out as she blotted her face and attempted to quell her mess. “Sorry. Really. I’m fine.”

“All evidence to the contrary aside.” His smirk should be registered as a lethal weapon. 

Layla ducked her head, snickering even as her cheeks filled with mortified heat. “Right.” She sipped her drink again, regaining her composure enough to look the man in the face when a movement over his shoulder caught her eye. 

Whatever her face did in that moment must have been dramatic, because Bucky immediately moved closer to her and glanced quickly over his shoulder. Taking a hold of her elbow, he shifted to put himself between the approaching man and her. “Do you need to leave?” 

Charleton’s eyes met hers across the room and the scowl on his face grew in intensity as he sped up his approach. Layla looked up at Bucky, who appeared poised to deal with whatever answer she gave him. “Yes please.” 

He nodded once and threw a twenty on the bar. “Let’s go.” Gently, he ferried her through the room, the path in front of him opening up as if by magic. If that magic could be attributed to a scowling former assassin with a beautiful woman on his arm. 

In no time at all, you were both in the elevator watching the city lights fade on the ride to one of the upper floors. For all that he’d been in her space to get her there, the moment the doors closed, he stepped away and maintained a respectful distance. 

“Why are we going upstairs? Why not just hustle me out of the building?” 

“He saw us together, right?” 

“Right…?

“Then chances are good he’s expecting us to make a break for it and leave, so he’ll likely head down to the lobby and to wait and make a scene there.” 

That did sound like him. She was suddenly tired. So, so tired. “So then where are we going?” 

“My place,” he replied as the elevator dinged to a halt. He held an arm out and allowed her to precede him onto the penthouse floor. “At least until he cools his jets and leaves.” 

“I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” she muttered, feeling both vexed at her ex and slightly exhilarated at the idea of being alone with Bucky. This was not how she saw her night going in the slightest, and suddenly wondered if she remembered to put on matching underwear. 

The giant gave her a million-watt grin as he tugged off his bowtie and tossed it onto the dining room table as he led her through the large, open concept room to the kitchen island. “Then you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Four

Summary: Things are moving along. The G word is used. Emily spends the night at Dieter’s place.

Rating: PG-13 (implied sex but nothing graphic)

Tagging @rhoorl @gwendibleywrites @avastrasposts

Notes: The Cheech is a real art museum in Riverside.

Dieter and I had been seeing each other for about a month. We’d managed to go out at least once a week and talked on the phone almost every night. Things were still low key. We’d visited the Cheech (Dieter was really into art; his mother had been an artist and he dabbled in painting now and then), gone for a hike in the Santa Monica Mountains, had a picnic at the Citrus Park. Nothing fancy, nothing that would attract attention.

Tonight, we were hanging out at his place, snuggling on the couch and watching random shows on Netflix. I had to go back to work in a few weeks, and I hoped that once I wasn’t available on weekdays, we wouldn’t drift apart. His schedule was different all the time, and I knew he had a project coming up that would require him to be out of town for several weeks.

We hadn’t slept together yet. I was wary of taking that step when I wasn’t sure exactly how things were going to work out, and he hadn’t put any pressure on me, even though he’d made more than a few hints. For now, I was content to keep things as they were. We’d had a few heavy make out sessions, one in the back seat of his car that had led to an embarrassing incident with a police officer who seemed surprised to find two middle-aged people steaming up a car’s windows.

I wasn’t even sure what we were watching anymore, since I was so comfortable in Dieter’s arms that I was ready to doze off. I jumped when his phone rang on the coffee table. He chuckled and rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “Easy there,” he said, leaning forward to look at the phone screen. “Oh, it’s my agent. I’ve got to take this.” He snatched up the phone and answered the call.

“Hey,” he said. “No, no, it’s fine. Just hanging out with my girlfriend. So what’s up?”

He wriggled out from under me and walked into the other room, away from the noise of the television. I sat on the couch, stunned. Had he just referred to me as his girlfriend? We hadn’t talked about where this thing was going, hadn’t discussed whether we were exclusive or how serious either of us was.

He disappeared for a while, leaving me to stare at the TV until Netflix asked “Are you still there?” I stirred enough to press the button on the remote, and it started playing the next episode of whatever we’d been watching. Dieter came back in and tossed his phone back on the table. He flopped down on the couch and pulled me into his lap.

“He’s got me an audition for a rom-com,” he said. “Finally, something that isn’t an action flick. Keep your fingers crossed.”

“That’s great news,” I said. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until I knew for sure. “Um, did you mean what you said?”

“What did I say?,” he asked distractedly, busy with the remote looking through the Netflix menu.

“You … you told him you were hanging out with your girlfriend,” I said carefully. “Did you mean that? Am I your girlfriend?”

He dropped the remote. “Shit,” he said. He ran one hand through his hair, making it even messier than usual. “Um, yeah, I know we haven’t really talked about things, but … yeah, I do think of you as my girlfriend.”

I turned around in his lap to face him. “So does that make you my boyfriend?” I asked, cupping his face with one hand.

He smiled. “I guess it does,” he said. I leaned forward and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. “Oh, yeah, definitely your boyfriend,” he said between kisses.

I sat back. “We should probably talk about this,” I said. “I mean, I’m going back to work soon, and I don’t know how often we’ll be able to see each other. This is kind of going to be a long-distance relationship, you know.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I’m cool with that. It’s not ideal, but we’ll make it work. We can spend the weekends together, maybe I can come out during the week sometimes … we’ll manage.”

“About that,” I said. “If we’re going to be spending the weekends together, maybe it’s time we … um, take the next step? I mean, if we’re serious about each other.”

“Oh, I’m very serious,” he said, his hands sliding down to my hips. “So very, very serious about you.” He kissed me fiercely and I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. After a few minutes, he reached onto the coffee table for the remote and clicked the television off.

“Let’s move this into the bedroom,” he murmured.

“Sounds good to me,” I replied, feeling giddy. He stood up and held out his hand. I took it and he led me off to bed.

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

I woke up long before the sun came up. As I crawled out of bed, Dieter stirred. “Where you goin’?” He mumbled.

“Have to pee,” I whispered back. He grunted and buried his face in the pillow. I stumbled through the darkened house to the bathroom, still half asleep myself. I flicked on the light and immediately regretted it. I had to screw my eyes shut against the blinding glare, and fumbled for the switch. Of course, that meant I was effectively blind until my eyes readjusted and I nearly missed the toilet.

I was laughing as I made my way back to the bedroom. “What's so funny?” Dieter said, his voice muffled through the pillow. “Are you looking at my ass?”

“No,” I said, slipping back under the covers. “I just blinded myself with the bathroom light and almost killed myself.”

“Oh, okay, then,” he said. He pulled me close and pressed a kiss against my forehead. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

“You’re grumpy when you’re sleepy,” I replied.

“Less talk, more sleep,” he said, pulling his pillow over his head.

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

The sun was high by the time we finally got up the next morning. Dieter was definitely not a morning person. He was not talkative at all, pulling on an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts before stumbling to the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker. I picked my clothes up off the bedroom floor, got dressed, and followed him.

“Want some breakfast?” I asked, opening the refrigerator to see what he had. I always wake up starving, for some reason.

“Um,” he grunted, slumped on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Is that a yes or a no?,” I laughed. I smoothed his messy hair back from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Yes,” he said. “Coffee first, though.”

I found some eggs, butter, and a loaf of bread on the counter. “How do you like your eggs?” I asked, not expecting much of an answer. He was busy preparing his coffee and didn’t hear me at first. “I said … how do you like your eggs?”

“Hmm, oh, runny, please,” he said before taking a deep gulp of coffee. He sighed and sank back down onto his seat.

“Sunny side up, coming right up,” I said brightly, as I put the frying pan on the stove. He flipped me off.

“Gee, I’d think you’d be nicer to me after what I let you do to me last night,” I teased.

“You loved it,” he retorted, clearly starting to react to the caffeine.

“Yeah, I did,” I admitted. I tossed a pat of butter into the hot frying pan. “How many eggs?”

“Two,” he said, standing up, carrying his coffee mug with him. He stood right behind me, putting his chin on my shoulder.

“Back off,” I said. “I can’t cook if you’re on top of me like that.”

“Oh, sorry, thought you liked that,” he teased. I elbowed him in the stomach and he stepped back with an “oof.”

I cracked a couple of eggs into the pan, then popped some toast into the toaster while they started to fry. “Make yourself useful and get some plates,” I told him.

“I’d think you’d be nicer to me after what I did to you last night,” he replied. I flipped him off and he laughed. He was definitely responding to the caffeine.

I finished his eggs, plated them, and started on my own. His toast popped up and I slathered it with butter for him. “Go ahead,” I said. “Don’t let it get cold.”

He broke the yolks on his eggs, dipped in his toast and took a big bite. “Mmm, you’re definitely a keeper,” he said after he’d swallowed.

“Eggs and toast aren’t that difficult,” I said. “Don’t get any grand ideas about me being a good cook or anything.” I pointed the spatula at him.

He held his hands up. “I would never assume,” he said. “Traditional gender roles have no place in this house.” He took another bite and pointed at the stove with his fork. “Your eggs are burning.”

“Oh, shit,” I said, quickly pulling the pan off the burner, narrowly saving my breakfast from ruin. Fortunately, my toast came out perfectly.

After breakfast (and two more cups of coffee for Dieter), he did the dishes and retired to the shower. When he returned, he was dressed in a nicer t-shirt and a clean pair of shorts. “You actually look alive now,” I told him.

“It takes me a while,” he admitted. “Hope that’s not going to be a problem.”

“No,” I said. “Lazy mornings are just fine by me, when I can get away with it.” I pulled him down onto the couch next to me. “During the week, I’m in such a rush … this is nice.” I snuggled up next to him.

“So, what do you want to do today?,” he asked. “Go to the movies, take a hike, hit a museum?”

“Just hang out with my boyfriend,” I replied.

“Sounds good to me.”

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

As I drove home that afternoon, it hit me. I’d slept with a movie star. It hadn’t felt like that at the time. It was just me and Dieter, the guy I was crazy about, who called me every night and talked about stupid stuff until we were both tired enough to call it a night. It had felt natural, easy. But as I steered through traffic on the 10 I realized the implications of our actions.

I was Dieter’s girlfriend. He’d said it. That meant we were exclusive. Things were serious. And now I was part of his story. A story that was plastered all over the Internet and social media and magazines any time he did anything remotely news worthy. A story I would be featured in if we went somewhere public, if he mentioned me in an interview. Part of me — the part that had always told herself it didn’t matter that she hadn’t been asked to the dance because she didn’t want to go anyway — wanted to flaunt it to the world.

A bigger part of me was scared shitless. I hated having my picture taken. I always volunteered to be the photographer on outings, feeling safer behind the camera than in front of it. I offered to help in the kitchen at parties, help clear up after meetings. I liked being in the background, part of something but never the focus. Dieter lived in a huge spotlight. He was the main character of not only his own life, but most events around him. I wasn’t sure I could handle that amount of attention.

But then I thought of him when we were alone, just the two of us together. He felt right. We felt right. My head fit against his shoulder like we were two puzzle pieces. He’d told me bits and pieces about his life, things I suspected he hadn’t told anyone else besides his therapist. I told him stuff, too, surprising myself with my candor. It wasn’t just physical intimacy between us. It was emotional, mental, intellectual.

I tried to concentrate on the traffic. I knew Sam would tell me I was still in the infatuation stage, and tease me that the man must be good in bed if I was so discombobulated by being dicked down for the first time. But I knew it wasn’t that. Or at least not just that.

It scared me. Because for the first time in my life, I felt like the main character of my own story, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be a star.

By the time I got home, I had a raging tension headache from driving. I flipped through my mail, took some ibuprofen and settled down on the couch to text Sam.

ME: Hey

SAM: Oh, you’re still alive. Starting to wonder.

ME: Ha ha very funny. I just got home.

SAM: From yesterday’s date? No way. I want details!

ME: It was good.

SAM: You fucked a celebrity and all you tell me is it was good? That’s bs.

ME: I slept with my boyfriend for the first time. It was good but awkward. You know how it is.

SAM: Excuse me, BOYFRIEND? When did this go from ‘we’re kind of seeing each other’ to ‘he’s my BOYFRIEND’? You skipped a big chunk.

ME: Last night. Look, are you going to be serious about this?

SAM: Of course. Sorry. Go on.

I wasn’t sure what to tell her. What had happened between me and Dieter was private. I wanted to keep it that way, but at the same time, Sam had always been my safe person, the one I could tell just about anything to because she lived so far away and wasn’t part of my day to day life.

ME: He got a phone call from his agent. He told the guy he was just ‘hanging out with his girlfriend.’ I asked him if he meant it. He said yes.

SAM: So this is serious.

ME: Very serious. Sam, I don’t know what I’m doing! Dieter is amazing. He’s funny and smart and he just gets me.

SAM: And he’s hot.

ME: Yeah, and he’s hot. But it’s summer and I have all this free time and I feel like a kid on vacation. What’s going to happen once I’m back at work and we’re both busy and he’s off filming something and we hardly see each other? How long can we keep this up?

SAM: If it’s meant to be, you’ll figure it out. But you won’t know unless you try. And sweetie, even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll have a hell of a story to tell when we’re in the retirement community knitting socks.

(We had a long standing joke that even though we lived so far apart, we’d eventually end up living in the same senior center and spend our days knitting socks and drinking mimosas between bingo games.)

ME: It doesn’t feel like a fling. But it can’t be the real thing, can it? I mean, he’s got a fucking Oscar on his bookshelf, Sam. I saw it. Just sitting there like a knickknack.

SAM: So what? Thom’s got a degree from Harvard hanging on the wall. Doesn’t make him better than me. Look, Em, loosen up. Enjoy yourself. You always look for the crash that might be coming instead of enjoying the ride. Maybe he’s the One. Maybe he isn’t. But right now, he’s yours. No one else’s. Just yours.

ME: You’re right. You’re always right. I should let you go. Give Thom and the kids a hug from me.

SAM: Only if you give Dieter one from me! Can’t wait to let that name drop next time I have to see that bitch Lana, ha ha!

I always felt better after chatting with Sam. She had a way of taking the blinders off of me, letting me see more than just the narrow path ahead that I imagined, strewn with rocks and danger. She’d helped me through losing both my parents, layoffs and furlough days at work, and various other bumps in the road, keeping me focused on the silver lining of even the darkest cloud.

Dieter wasn’t a dark cloud. He was sunlight and moonbeams and starshine. All I had to do was step out into the light.