#Hands are full right now. Just able to do a quick greeting scribble!

[screwpinecaprice]

HEYYYPPY NEW YEARRR 🎇🎆

[marvelouspeterparker]

all worth it

pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader

summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.

warnings: none, just fluff

notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh

so tom loves his job, obviously

he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more

but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career

there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot

and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews

now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun

but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast

so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day

but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit

you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya

some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different

you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello

you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to

your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it

when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself

‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding

‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’ 

they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat

when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away

you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work

you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more

tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing

when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt 

you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off

‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along

zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’

you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him

‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’

you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’

tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them

though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon

or so you thought, anyway

your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)

you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)

‘hi love, how are you?’ 

his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone

‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’

he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’

you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely

‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off 

you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking

but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?

you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen

the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried

it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom

surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside

and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one

as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face

but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar

‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused

‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)

without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it

‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’

you laughed and looked up at him

‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’

you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled

he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’ 

you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him

and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside

were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?

he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat

tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i

zendaya: yeah but we already knew that

tom: 😑

harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy

jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch

jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏

tom: thanks babe 😘

zendaya: i’m just gonna go––

tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing

not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text 

tom: nevermind she just texted me

tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up

maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are

you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind? 

and you––nevermind he responded immediately

tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number 

tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course

you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright

were you really about to facetime tom holland?

when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied

y/n: sure, i’d like that

he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered

when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly

‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly

your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face

‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’ 

when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked

‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile

‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’ 

soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing

‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’

‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’

and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever

after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it

‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’ 

you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’ 

you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again

you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you

‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’

you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’

‘even better than my movies?’

you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’

he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’

‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked

‘you know i will’ he smirked

by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change 

honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%

which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you

‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you 

‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’

he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview

once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work

‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’

‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’ 

he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’ 

you paused. of all times to flirt––

‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere

now the fans took notice of your bond with tom

they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars

there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––

‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’

and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not

you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you

i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing

it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up

you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said

‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly

he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’

you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’

‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’

[jihyuncompass]

A Birthday Visit

Well well well would you look at that. My very first Tears of Themis fic is for Marius’s birthday who could have guessed (anyone who knows me) Happy Birthday Marius, I can’t wait to see you again <3

For future reference, this fic was written for Marius’s 2021 birthday. As of yet Tears of Themis has not been released for the English audiences. I have played the beta but there is a chance Marius will be a little out of character as a result of the timing. 

Summary: You visit Marius’s work to celebrate his birthday with him, even if he’s a little busy 

Marius x MC

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: N/A

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The PAX building was an intimidating one. That thought always came into your mind when you approached it. While the Law Firm was also one of the large skyscrapers that made up the Stellis skyline, the PAX building was taller, and quite the intimidating addition to said skyline. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d been here, far from it, but it was rare for you to go into PAX for a non professional reason, or without being explicitly invited by Marius. You looked up at the building, even without meaning to your eyes focused on the window you knew belonged to Marius’s office. There was a good chance he was in there right now. 

Adjusting your bag over your shoulder you walked through the doors and into the bustling first floor.  

You walked through the groups of professionally dressed employees standing to chat idly, or summarize the recent meetings they had. Or stop to enjoy their coffee for a little while before getting back to work. 

“Welcome to the PAX group.” One of the receptionists started as you walked to the desk. “How can I help you today?” You cleared your throat, speaking as eloquently as you can. 

“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Von Hagen? I’m a friend.” You said to the receptionist. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at you. Scrutinizing your appearance.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Von Hagen doesn’t see anyone without a meeting.” You pressed your lips together, 

“I can promise you he’s a good friend of mine, it’s his birthday and-” 

“I’m sorry I have no way to verify that you are who you say you are.” The receptionist said. You reviewed your options in your head, clearly she wasn't going to let you go up there on the promise of being a friend. 

After a moment of brainstorming an idea came to you, digging through your bag you showed the receptionist your work ID badge, listing you as a lawyer for the Themis Law Firm. 

“I’m also Mr. Von Hagen’s personal lawyer, he knows who I am.” The receptionist squinted at the ID, hesitant of it’s quality and authenticity. After typing at her computer briefly she sighed and relented. 

“Aright, I do see your name here. I’ll let you up there and I’ll give a call to Mr. Von Hagen’s assistant to let them know you’re here.” You thanked her and hurried to the elevator. The first challenge was dealt with, now it was just time to go through with the rest of the plan.  

You piled into the elevator with a group of suited men heading to what you assumed were their own desks and offices throughout the building, but you’d be one of the only people going as far up, to nearly the top floor where Marius’s office would be found. 

The elevator was nearly empty by the time you made it up, only a few people exiting with you. 

One of Marius’s assistants was waiting for you on the other side of the elevator. They greeted you as you approached them. 

“Good afternoon.” They said. “I’m afraid to say that Mr. Von Hagen has been stuck in meetings all day so I’m not sure if he’ll be able to see you.” 

You pressed your lips together, you should have asked him in advance, he was usually busier than he always let on. 

“Well I just have a couple things I want to show him, I’m happy to wait for when he has a spare moment.” The assistant seemed unsure but shrugged. 

“Very well, I’ll take you to his office, you can wait there. I’ll let him know that you’re there.” You followed the assistant down the long hallway to the office at the end, the largest by far, belonging to Marius. 

The assistant closed the door behind you, the office was neat and tidy as it always was. Although it was Marius’s office, you were always a little disappointed by just how little of Marius seemed to be in the office. The sleek professional furniture, the carefully organized files, cup full of standard ballpoint pens didn’t seem like Marius. The rebellious, creative and playful Marius you knew well and had grown to adore. 

Sitting on the couch in his office you decided to make use of your time by setting the present you’d gotten him out on the table, along with the small cake box. With your job and caseload you hadn’t had the time to make a particularly fancy or intricate cake. But something small the two of you could easily share.  

You hummed to yourself gently as you got everything set up. Your eyes focused on the work in front of you. So much so you didn’t even notice as the office doors opened while your back was turned. 

“So.” A voice said from behind you. The sudden noise startled you, making you jump. Quickly turning around you were face to face with Marius. Dressed with a full suit, although he had that playful gaze he kept around you. Seeing him, your shoulders relaxed, and a smile crossed your face. “I heard you wanted to see me.” 

“I hoped I could catch you for a minute for your birthday.” You explained to him. “I should have asked about your schedule, I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were so busy.” Marius shook his head. 

“Nah I’m glad you’re here. It’s a perfect surprise.” Marius looked past you and to the table behind you where everything was set up. His eyes lighting up with that almost childlike excitement he got. However that excitement was quickly clouded. 

You frowned. “You don’t have a lot of time huh?”

Marius hesitated to answer you. “I don’t have a lot of time, I have a meeting in a half hour.” 

As you looked from Marius to the table you straighten your back and beamed at him. “Well then let’s make this a fun half hour! Enjoy the time we have.” With this the playfulness returned. The Marius you loved to see. 

Sitting beside one another, you made quick work of slicing the cake into two even slices for the two of you. 

“I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy.” You said. “But I have no doubt it tastes good and that’s what matters, doesn't it?” 

“Did you make it?” Marius asked, a brow raised curiously. 

“I did, I’m not a baker though so be warned.” Marius picked up the fork, picking up the perfect bite of cake to get both the cake and the frosting on top. Watching him closely you made note of his reaction. “What do you think?”

Marius nodded. “It’s good, I think I would even say I’m impressed.” You relaxed against the couch. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You said. “I was worried it wasn’t going to be very good.” You took a bite to taste it yourself, the sweetness of the cake hitting your tongue immediately. You’d had better cakes, but still you couldn’t deny the little part of you that was proud of what you’d made. 

Not wanting to waste your time you quickly leaned forward to push some presents closer. This seemed to grab Marius’s attention away from the cake in his hand. He set it down to pick up one of the gifts, looking over the basic wrapping paper. 

“Go ahead.” You encouraged. “Open it up! Take a look.”  Marius stared with the smallest one, quickly tearing off the paper without much thought. He pulled out two tickets, reading the tiny text on them. “They’re for an upcoming art exhibition I read about online, I thought it’d be fun to go together. I don’t know nearly as much about art as you do but maybe you could teach me some stuff.” 

Marius smirked. “I guess I could spare some of my expansive art knowledge to impart some on you.” 

Holding back from rolling your eyes instead you gave him your best genuine smile. “I would love that. I’d love to learn from you.” Marius seemed pleased by this, as evidenced by the redness that quickly started growing on his face. Looking back at the gift he tried to get himself back under control. 

Similar to the first gift Marius tore the wrapping paper off the second one. This one, a hand held sketchbook, bound nicely with a leather cover, his initials MVH put onto the front. A small note you’d written scribbled onto the first page. 

“This is-”

“Well, you’re always working so hard here, or studying hard at university, and I know you would probably much prefer to be in your studio painting. So, that’s a little sketchbook, one you can carry anywhere.” Flipping through the pages, Marius’s expression turned soft, warm, happy, not holding that playful spark. “I know you probably could afford any notebook in the world, but this one is customized just for you, not another one of these exists just like it.” 

The softness in his face stayed even when he looked up at you, even when he looked down again. 

“Thank you, for this.” He held it carefully in his hands, as if he was afraid of damaging it too soon. Before he could even put pencil to paper for the first time. There were still a couple gifts left, but you let him linger on that one. Trying to memorize every single second in your mind. 

The rest of the gifts were more basic things, special sweets, some art supplies you’d seen when you passed by the art store on your way home. Despite how basic many of these smaller gifts were, he never seemed ungrateful, and equally happy to see each one. 

All the presents unwrapped, and cake nearly finished you both sat together happily. Looking at Marius with the initial excitement wearing off you started to see the exhaustion peeking through. The heaviness in his eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff yet slumped. He looked tired, worn out already. 

“Your assistant said you’ve been in meetings all day?” 

Marius rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, PAX has a big thing coming up. I’ve been in meetings since eight. This is the first break I’ve had all day.” As he spoke he loosened his tie, letting it release some of the tension in his shoulders and neck. 

“You look exhausted.” You said. He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Have you been resting?” 

Marius’s eyes opened again. “I was at my studio late last night. But I’m fine.” 

You looked more concerned, you doubted he was really resting enough. With everything he did, there was no possible way he was letting himself take breaks. Even on his birthday he seemed to be working full steam ahead. 

“Marius, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Let yourself rest?” Marius looked over at you, as if he was trying to think through it, crunching the numbers in his head. Gently touching his shoulder you turned him to face you, his eyes raised to look at your face. You loosened up his tie some more and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt to let him relax. 

 “Come on.” You said in a soft voice. “Rest for a little bit.” 

He considered this for a little while longer. Then let long a long sigh, he let himself lean forward enough to rest his forehead against your shoulder. Reaching up you rubbed his back, gently massaging to let him relax against you. 

“I can’t rest for long.” Marius muttered. “There’s that meeting-”

“Something is better than nothing.” You reminded him. “How about you lie down? You can rest with me until your meeting.” He was still for a little while longer, then lifted his head long enough to move. 

Marius’s head was laying in your lap. You gently played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. Marius’s eyes slipped closed, his breaths long and even. 

“My meeting-” 

“I’ll get you up when it’s time. Rest right now.” You told him. He sighed and let himself fully rest. 

“Thank you.” He muttered. 

“Happy birthday Marius.” You whispered to him. Watching him rest, you couldn’t help but smile. This moment was going to be over sooner than later, soon he’d have to get up and get himself cleaned up, he’d go to that meeting, and then the next one and the next one until he could call it a day. He’ll probably go to his studio again, even if he’s exhausted. He’ll try and get some rest, but eventually he’ll get up and start it all again. 

But right now he’s with you and resting. Enjoying the short break he could afford. Maybe not the best birthday one could have, but one that was more than happy. 

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and the Phantoms - Part One

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: Gah… I'm such a procrastinating butterfly. I should be writing my Billy Russo series which I'm so excited about, but I just want to be able to read it already instead of having to write first + I'm currently writing each and every chapter instead of the next one (struggles of a fanfiction writer - am I right?). So, what do I do instead? I flew from one of my obsessions to another and got inspired by this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial​ prompt. 

Anyways... This fic will be a little to late for some of you guys, but still: Merry Christmas everyone! And if you do not celebrate Christmas I still hope you have a wonderful day and a rest of the year filled with love and happiness. You did it, you fought through it. I’m sure you had your own pair of himbo ghosts taking care of you.

word count: ~ 1k

summary (and basically background info): Y/N is Julie's & Flynn's friend who doesn’t know about the ghosts (let’s just say she believes that they’re holograms). The boys become attached to Y/N due to her kindness and positivity and do everything in their (ghostly) powers to keep her days sunny and bright, especially in winter.  Or: Two times Y/N is oblivious to the boys 'paranormal' activities and the one time she notices it

prompt: Comfort in the Cold by @flashfictionfridayofficial​

warnings: english is not my first language, therefore, typos

| Part Two | Part Three |

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#1: Luke

Slowly and quietly you made your way down the stairs of the Molina household, leaving Julie's and Flynn's sleeping forms behind. Even though you had just watched multiple Christmas movies and probably eaten double your weight in popcorn, your stomach was still asking for more. As Julie knew about your habits of needing a midnight snack and since Ray repeatedly told you to make yourself at home you weren't feeling bad about stealing some small bits and pieces out of their fridge or cupboards.

Which is why you were straining your ears to hear any sounds that might indicate that you had woken up either Carlos or Ray, but you were only met with silence. Releasing the breath you were holding you hastily hopped down the last few steps down to the living room, grabbed the stair railing and used the momentum of your movement to swiftly swing yourself in the direction of the kitchen, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2 a.m. and the continuous silence indicated that nobody except you was awake and around. Yet, as you hesitantly took a view steps towards the kitchen counter, pulling your blanket like a shield tighter around your body, there was a perfectly fine peanut-butter/jelly sandwich waiting for you, a smiley made out of Nutella painted onto it. Your favourite midnight snack.

A small note peaked out from under the plate and it took you some time to decipher the chicken scratch. Can't have our favourite groupie going to bed hungry! 

Smiling and shaking your head, thinking that either Julie or Flynn must have sneaked out of the room sometime earlier to make you this sandwich you happily bit into it. 

If you'd known that there was a brown-haired ghost with hazel eyes sitting opposite to you and watching you with a smile, the sandwich would have probably gotten stuck in your throat.

#2: Alex 

Doing multiple Christmas movie marathons would be fun they said. No need to worry they said. Only Christmas cheer and joy they said. Well… long story short, even fun movies can make you bawl like a baby! 

A few days after the midnight snack incident, which you completely forgot about, you were once again sitting on Julie's bed. With her and Flynn to your left and right, you had been watching different movies on her computer. Currently, however, you were only trying. Tears were blurring your vision and your sniffles were the only sounds reaching your ear. 

Pressing the plushy's soul that Flynn had won you at a fair out of its body and sobbing into it, you felt Julie shift beside you and lay her head in your lap and mumbling something while Flynn was searching for a handkerchief.

"Whose idea was it again to watch this movie?" you tried to ask, but your voice came out all thick and full of emotion, so you weren't sure if they understood or heard you at all.

What you didn't know was that the boys were watching the movie, and now mostly you, with big eyes.

"Remember the day when Julie was crying in the garage and then Flynn came in crying too? Remember how I said that two girls crying are worse than one girl crying? This… this is way worse!" Luke pointed exaggeratedly at every single one of you and moved quickly out of Flynn's way when she left the room to get a box of tissues. 

"Dude… they're not actually crying crying. It's just a really sad movie," Alex said and sighed quietly when he heard Reggie whisper, "Do you think that's what Willie meant when he said Caleb floods the place during movie night?"

"That's... no, okay." Shaking his head Alex moved towards the bed and sat carefully at Flynn's place to not alert you of the shift beside you. Then he gently took a paw of the plushy that you weren't currently pressing into an embrace and lifted it to wipe away your tears and free your sight. 

You sniffled, too confused and full of emotion to realize what just happened and that it couldn't possibly have been Julie or Flynn, and whispered a small, "Thank you". 

Alex smiled, proud of his action.

#3: Reggie

You didn't even bother to take off your shoes or wipe away the residual snow still sticking to your hair as you flopped yourself down onto your bed, groaning into your pillow. Everything was already grey, wet or at least soggy anyway. To say your day had been bad was an understatement.

It's the most wonderful time of the year With the kids jingle belling And everyone telling you be of good cheer It's the most wonderful time of the year

Confused you lifted your head and starred at your computer who apparently decided to become sentient and cheer you up.

It's the hap-happiest season of all With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings When friends come to call It's the hap-happiest season of all

The next thing that happened would forever be burned into your brain. Your favourite pen suddenly lifted itself up into the air and started to scribble down onto a nearby paper. Slowly and unsure you stood up and inched closer to your desk, but as soon as you were able to sneak a peak onto the paper the pen stopped and fell down.

Shaking your head you rubbed your eyes and turned back to your bed. "This is the weirdest lucid dream I ever had." The moment you flopped back down onto your bed you heard the familiar scratching of pen on paper again. Turning your head there it was again - the floating pen. "What?"

However, once again, as soon as you reached the desk the pen fell down, lifeless. “Alright... alright. I understand! Don’t worry, I won’t sneak a peak.”

"I am dreaming... right?" You weren't. Pinching yourself hurt, trying to breathe through a closed nose didn't work and your pointer finger would not move through the palm of your hand.

Shakily, yet weirdly motivated by the happy Christmas music still playing in the background, you picked up the note laying beside the now still pen. "Merry Christmas Y/N! Lots of love from Reggie, Alex and… Who?" 

"It told you, Luke… I should just have signed for us all."

"Shut it Reg, I know my handwriting sucks."

[smallrainclouds]

Part five of marriage AU. Sorry for being gone for so long, I'm moving rn and my dog had to go the vet so I been busy. Hope you enjoy. Part six should out later this week.. net part will have more hypnos x reader.

🌙💤💤🌙

Time passed much quickly here. Almost too fast. Weeks had passed into a full month before You knew it.

Dusa came every other day to dust and You looked forward to your chats.

The library was coming together nicely. Even though You did have to read every scroll since no one, not even Nyx knew what they held.

Nyx had been surprised by how much there was. You thought you even saw the faintest of blush on her cheeks.

"I knew I had a big collection but I didn't realize how many I've picked over the years." Nyx murmured. "I was so busy raising several children along with Zagreus once he came later with Hypnos and his brother."

You also found out that Hypnos had way more siblings, way way more than you had sisters. But you haven't quite gotten the story about why he talked only about two of his brothers.

You peeked over the scroll you were reading in hopes that maybe somehow it had gotten smaller.

The pile still loomed threatenly the corner.

You tsk when you saw it was still the same as before.

Slowly, the gods and shades of the underworld were becoming friends of sorts.

Zagreus, much like Hypnos, had also become a regular to your library. Often with questions about your former home and any advice you may have.

You knew you weren't getting the full story of why he really wanted out but all in due time.

Charon, a god that Hermes often talked about, was nerve wracking to meet at first but he warmed up quickly to You when sharing stories of Hermes.

Nyx, even as your mother in law, had become someone who You looked forward to having the chats with. The both of you talked over the scrolls and you quite enjoyed the stories of her youth, the rare times she talked about it.

And there was Dusa, Achilles (even after that embarrassing day), even Cerberus would give you a small single wag in greeting.

And so many others. They felt more… honest. Your old home had rules and politics that you were never able to quite grasp.

You never felt right at home, with a different father than all of your sisters and a different power from all of them.

But they loved you and you loved them in return.

Homesick as you were, You were embarrassed to admit there was someone else on your mind.

Hypnos.

You haven't seen Hypnos since that night he slept in your bed. Not really anyway.

He came once a day for a few minutes, made a quick comment on the library or at Zagreus if the prince was going through the scrolls when he came in. But that's it. You felt almost like a pet that Hypnos just made sure was still alive before taking off to wherever.

You blinked at the scroll as you realized that you didn't read a single word. Your mind had drifted away from the scrolls and back to Hypnos.

Again.

🌙💤💤🌙

"Do you have anything on a thing called a Bone Hydra?" Zagreus had asked one day out of the blue, his desperation was clear in his voice.

You put down your tasks list to look at him. "I know what a hydra is but what do you mean by a bone hydra?"

Zagreus slumped, "It is this horrible thing that-"

"Didn't I already tell you what you needed to do?" Hypnos interrupted. "Just don't get hit or die!" He floated to the pile and plucked some scrolls from the top.

Zagreus sighed, "I know, I know. Don't die. It doesn't help as much as you think, Hypnos."

Hypnos dropped the scrolls on the table for you. Slowly but surely the piles had been going down. However, it was helpful to have someone who can easily get to the top.

"Maybe the issue is that you're not moving fast enough." Hypnos said.

"Yes, I am sure that is exactly why, Hypnos. Thank you, all my problems are now solved." Zagreus rolled his eyes.

"Fantastic! Glad to be of service!" Hypnos laughed.

You had to cover a smile before you looked back at Zagreus.

"Zagreus, if I find anything on this bone hydra you will be the first to know." You said.

"Y/N, you're being too kind to Zagreus. Like I said, just move faster."

You laughed at Zagreus' eye roll.

"So this is where you been hiding boy." Hades stepped in the room despite being almost too tall to do.

The energy in the room changed in a way you never felt before. The sheer anger that came from both father and son made the room feel so small.

All three of you stood but it was Hypnos who moved toward you. He blocked you from Hades' sight, his smile never leaving his face. But there was a tightness to his smile. You peeked around him, eyes focused on Zagreus and his father.

Zagreus scoffed, "Oh good Father you were able find the library, would you like some help reading or -"

"Watch your mouth, boy." Hades growled. Then he turned to look directly at you and Hypnos.

You tighten your hands, hoping your nervousness won't show.

"Y/N. Correct?" Hades asked but not in a way that was a question.

You pushed past Hypnos and You ignored his look, you did tell him you couldn't hide from Hades forever.

"Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Hades."

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then finally Hades spoke, "I heard from Nix about your work on the library."

"Yes, I have some experience with libraries and thank you for the opportunity." You replied, grateful that your voice stayed calm.

"Hmm." Hades looked around the library and You wanted to hide behind Hypnos but resisted the urge.

"Father, what is it that you want?" Zagreus sighed, "Can't you tell you are making everyone uncomfortable?"

Hades' eyes snapped back to Zagreus, "Silent! Your rudeness is what makes people uncomfortable."

Without taking his eyes off his son, Hades said to You. "Y/N, you may continue your work."

"Yes sir, t-thank you." You said, your heart racing, still not convinced father and son will start fighting in the library.

You felt Hypnos' hand on your back, warm and steady, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding in.

"Well!" Hypnos said cheerfully, "Y/N needs to get back to work and I know I certainly do."

Hades sighed, "Yes You do. In fact, Hypnos. I need to have a word with you. Alone."

Without waiting for Hypnos' agreement, Hades turned and walked off.

"I'm sorry about my Father." Zagreus' hands in

"No. It's fine. Went as well as it could have." You said, glad the whole event was over.

Zagreus murmured his excuses and quickly left the library.

A moment passed and you turned your head to look up at Hypnos, his hand still on your back.

"Thank you." You whispered, a blush on your cheeks.

"Oh, sure. Hades takes some getting used to." Hypnos grinned. "I've to go see what Hades wants from me."

"Are you okay with being alone with...him?" You asked. You would happily never share a room with Hades ever again, let alone a one on one meeting.

His hand moved away and you found yourself already missing the warmth.

"Of course, he loves my charming wit." Hypnos waved a hand in farewell.

You laughed and watched Hypnos floated off.

With a sigh, you fell into your chair. Not even the underworld gods were spared of politics and drama.

🌙💤💤🌙

"So- so could I ask you a question?" Dusa asked, her duster moved in quick, neat movements.

You pulled your eyes away from the new take list you made. Since the library was getting closer and closer to being done, you had thought about opening it up but there was still much to do. Also you weren't sure of the best to keep track of who borrowed what. And you still needed to ask Nix but you pushed the thoughts out.

"Of course, Dusa. Is there a scroll you're looking for?"

"Well, no. I wanted to ask… how did you and Hypnos meet? I wasn't aware he was seeing anyone let alone getting married." Dusa bit her lip, "But don't feel like you have to talk about it if you don't want to! I know it is not any of my business."

"No. No, it's fine. I didn't meet him until our wedding or at least I think so." You put down your quill. You couldn't help but feel like you met him before that but for the life of you, you couldn't remember. "It was an arranged marriage. I… I've been told he did a favor for my mother during a war, one she would have lost if not for him."

Dusa bobbed next to you, "I'm sorry. I don't know why people or gods act like their daughters are things to trade. It's like they don't even see their daughters as full people."

You blinked, surprised at Dusa's tone. But you smiled, liking the more fiery side of your friend.

"I don't know either. But at least he is kind to me. And he hasn't been pushy if you know what I mean or anything like that. It could have been worse."

"That's good!" Dusa sighed, "Hypnos and I don't exactly get along really but I'm glad to know he has been kind to you."

"You don't? Is there a reason?" You cupped your face in your hands, elbows eyes on Dusa.

Hypnos didn't talk about other people in the house, other than his mother and brother. You wanted to know more but couldn't get him to crack in the few minutes you saw him every day.

"Well I mean." Dusa paused as if trying to find the words. "He isn't mean but you can tell he doesn't care about his work. And he doesn't seem to understand why anyone else cares. He… I don't know. I'm making it sound worse than it is. I'm sorry, Y/N."

She bobbed again nervously. "He is a good guy! He and I just don't click at all."

You smiled even as a knot formed in your chest. Is that what Hades wanted with Hypnos a few weeks ago? Again you cursed yourself for not being able to get Hypnosis to talk to you.

"It's okay, Dusa. It is not a big deal."

After a few more minutes of chitchat, Dusa left, her duster still working madly.

You sat down and stared down at your list. The words might as well be scribbles for all of the sense it made to you.

With a sigh, you pushed away the papers. Why in the world do you care that Hypnos wouldn't talk to you? Or that you still didn't understand a bloody thing about the god.

Why do you care at all?

[calummss]

My Heliotrope | Charlie Sloane

summary: everyone is aware of charlie’s crush on you; maybe the take-notice-board will help him to fess up

words: 1.1K

It wasn’t a secret that Charlie Sloane had a certain fondness for you. You couldn’t deny the corresponding feeling either, even though you weren't too sure. But your parents always taught you, to never settle for the first man that comes and sweeps you off your feet. You’ve known Charlie your whole life. You were born just days apart and spent most of your childhood days playing ‘tag’ and other games with the neighbouring kids of Avonlea. Then you were sent to the same and only school Avonlea had to offer. You value your friendship over everything and secretly hoped it would never cease.

✰ ✰ ✰

‘Y/N!’ you heard your mother outside of your door. ‘Get dressed will you. Charlie’s here.’

‘Coming, mother!’ you yelled back, quickly rummaging through your drawers.

You got dressed in a hurry and sprinted downstairs, almost tripping over your school bag.

‘Charlie, would you be so kind to escort Y/N back home after school?’ your mother exhorted. ‘It’s getting dark early these days and I can’t have my daughter walk home in the dangers the dark has to offer.’

Charlie smiled shyly. ‘Of course, Miss.’

‘Come on, Charlie. I’m ready to go.’ you said as you grabbed his hand and yanked him outside, to save him from your mother.

The walk to the school was quiet yet peaceful. You enjoyed these walks to school. The world was full of colours and shapes to fuel the imagination. Making your way through some fields and parts of the forest, both of you arrived at Avonlea School, already spotting the small white school tower from afar. Charlie held out his hand which you kindly accept and lightly pulled you up the tiny hill, only to be greeted by Billy.

‘If it isn’t the love birds,’ Billy smirked as his two friends stood side by side, backing him up.

‘Keep your mouth shut, Billy. You know that Charlie is not courting me.’ you walked past him with your head held high.

Billy always competed with Charlie for some odd reason. When Charlie got you ribbons to match your dress, Billy gave you matching gloves. You didn’t know why Billy even tried. Shaking those thoughts, you noticed the majority of the class standing at the side of the school wall, mumbling words you weren’t able to make out.

‘What is happening?’ you tilted your head, looking into Charlie’s eyes, who shrugged his shoulders in response.

Curious to know what everyone was gushing about, you made your way through the damp, brittle grass and were greeted by Anne and the other girls.

‘Good morning to you, Miss Sloane.’ Anne chirped as you reached the class.

‘Anne.’ you warned.

You took a second to glance up at Charlie who seemed to feel a little saddened by your response.

‘Why is everyone standing in front of that board?’ you furrowed your eyebrows not understanding the hustle and excitement.

‘Oh that,’ Anne laughed as she turned back to the board you were now able to perceive. ‘According to Miss Pye, years ago there was a ‘Take-Notice-Board’ which was used to stake claim on a person, to let others know of taken people, and it revived with a note about Josie and Billy.’

‘Doesn’t Billy fancy Y/N?’ Ruby joined the three of you.

‘Billy doesn’t like anyone but himself.’ Anne crossed her arms looking annoyed with Ruby’s comment.

‘Hmm,’ you cocked your head to the side.‘Oh look, there’s another one in the far right corner.’ you pointed out.

Gilbert who was standing in front of the board seemed to notice too and read the note out loud.

‘I think that Charlie and Y/N would make a very cute couple. I mean we all know that Charlie fancies her.’

You felt your cheeks go hot with embarrassment and stared at the ground. Charlie however was smiling from ear to ear.

Before there was time to discuss further details, the bell rang and all students gathered inside the classroom to be greeted by Miss Stacy, who had prepared a science lesson. You sat down at your assigned seat and took out all your belongings, quickly glancing to the boy’s side who were mumbling very loudly. You heard someone mention your name and all their heads turned to Charlie and then you. Flustered, you turned your attention back to the blackboard and hoped for this lesson to be over quick. When the bell rang to signalise the end of the lesson you were pulled outside the building to be greeted by Anne, Diana, Ruby, Tillie, Jane, and Josie, who set up a small picnic with the help of Diana’s scarf.

‘So,’ Josie started in a rather meanish-tone but was interrupted by loud voices coming from the classroom.

‘Charlie we all know you like Y/N.’ ; ‘Just do it Charlie! What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ ; ‘Charlie and Y/N sitting in a tree, K-I-S-‘

‘As I was saying.’ Josie continued. We should all go to the fair this weekend. I heard they were introducing new games and foods to Avonlea.’

‘That would be a great idea, Josie.’ Anne beamed.

The other girls agreed and you spent the entire break talking about exciting activities to fulfill at the fair.

When the school bell rang once again, you made your way inside but stopped in your track when you saw a bundle of pink-purple flowers sitting neatly on your desk. You minced towards your desk and picked up the flowers to take a sniff of the captivating flowers. Next to the flowers was a small card with black handwriting scribbled onto the rough piece of paper.

For Y/N, my one true love.

You were at a loss for words. Who would send you this romantic gesture. You turned around swiftly and your eyes met Charlies.

‘Charlie, is this your doing?’ you held out the flowers.

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

You looked around the classroom to see everyone staring at you. ‘These are beautiful. What kind of flowers are these?’

‘Heliotrope. I chose to give you those because they symbolise eternal love and devotion.’ he took a step closer to you.

‘Charlie, I, I don’t know what to say.’ you confessed

‘You don’t have to say anything.’ he came even closer and placed his arms on your shoulders.

Feeling a wave of confidence, you raised the balls of your feet and kissed Charlie. It was quick but meaningful.

And maybe the flower was a true symbol of love and devotion. If anything, you just have to find out yourself.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 3/?

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N -Any name (your best friend’s name)

Part 3! Date 2 is going to be underway with this one. Enjoy!

I had to change my pfp and my header cause they were being dickheads so just be aware if you liked looking at the batboys when clicking on my profile lmao <3

Warnings: Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd, Dark humor.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15)  (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Y/N woke up the next day feeling like she could take on the world, energized, with a new crush, and full of life, a stark shift from how she usually was. She was never normally a morning person and had a severe addiction to caffeine. I mean, the addiction was still there and she still needed coffee before she could go to her 3pm class and meet up with Jason again, but she was happy. She would put on her clothes and pack her bag before even getting coffee.

“G’morning, A/N!”

“Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?” A/N joked.

“Down girl, I’m just peppy today, it’ll probably wear down and it’s probably a once-in-a-blue-moon deal,” Y/N said as she started brewing her coffee.

“You got a date with Jason today?”

“I do!”

“That explains it,” A/N joked again.

“Says the one with a boyfriend,” she shot back.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just hooking up right now, trust me, if he was, you’d know, darlin’.”

“So what did dreamboat ask last night?” A/N asked.

“Well I said ‘What do you want to know?’ and he said ‘We’ll talk about it today, maybe during notes or maybe during our lunch date, we’ll see how i’m feeling.’ so I think that’s good?”

“You kidding? You got that man wrapped around your finger, respect.”

“Shut up.”

“No thanks, I have free speech y’know.”

“Yeah you can say whatever, but I can also use my free speech rights to tell you to shove it, so, checkmate,” you sneered at her.

“That’s fair,” A/N paused and then changed the subject, “Have you heard Brutal yet?” she asked.

“You’re damn right I have, I wonder where that was for me at 17. But to be fair, I would still blast it now at my parents just to make them irk.”

“They would kill you for listening to that song instead of their Christian Rock.”

“Worth it, I’ll die swinging and singing.” Y/N mused.

“It really is Brutal out here.”

“Leave, get out, that sucked, blocked, friendship over.”

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

She walked up to her 3pm class, to be greeted by Jason at the door, with of course, her new knowledge of the tabloids and their minions, she questioned why he’d do this.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“’Afternoon, Jason.”

“I’m trying to give the tabloids a show, don’t mind me.” he mused.

“I’m not surprised, but class is in 5.”

“Then I guess we should sit down and get ready to write at lightning speeds.”

She went to sit down, followed close by Jason. She couldn’t help but notice everyone was staring, but she didn’t care. This is going to be fun, she thought, I’m glad they’re gonna get a fucking kick out of this, she finished her thought.

Class went on as usual, with her scribbling down the notes so quick her arms hurt by the end of it, and Jason just sitting around making sure she wasn’t losing her arms to the writing, and casually laughing at the Professor. Then, the Professor brought up Barry Allen. Dr. Barry Allen and what he does for the criminal psychology people. 

“Forensics go hand-in-hand with criminal psych, normally we can tell, as scholars, from the hitting of the weapon why and who might’ve done it.” The Professor said.

 She saw Jason tense up a bit, and whispered over to him;

“You know Dr. Barry Allen don’t you?”

“He’s my uncle,” he whispered back.

“Well, be sure to tell him I’ve read some of his essays when I wanted to go into forensics instead of criminal psychology.”

“Really? He has essays?”

“Many. Very good writing. 10/10.”

“You’re going to make his week if you keep talking like this.” he mused.

“Good.” you mocked.

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

“So, you’re intermixed with a renowned journalist, a legend in forensic testing and you’re the son of Bruce Wayne?” she asked Jason, she couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but there they were, all cards on the table.

“Yeah, I know this is all new to you but famous people tend to know other famous people.” he joked with her.

“Well that’s fair, I guess I kind of know Clark, I met him once at a office party with my mum.”

“He’d probably remember you.”

“Enough of your family ties, huh? You said you wanted to know more about me?”

“Yes, that, did you tell your roommate to pick up your car?” he asked her.

“I did, why was I meant to do that, by the way?” she asked him.

“Because, we, you and I, Y/N, are going to go for a joyride on my motorbike and try to get away from these,” he lowered his voice, “bitch ass cameras,” he grabbed her hand and started running towards his bike, dodging all the paparazzi who just wanted the snag shot of the two. They don’t even know my name, and they’re going off about this, she thought.

When the two met his bike, she looked over it fondly. This guy really likes his red, she thought, that’s fair, I do too.

“Nice bike.”

“Thank you, Y/N. We can ride this bad boy out to the country and try to escape the cameras, which kind of cuts into the lunch date, but hey-”

“That’s just the life someone famous has to live?” she questioned.

“You’re catching on.”

“I could have been a detective if I wanted it.”

He laughed and sat down on his bike and like instinct, she sat behind him and wrapped her hands on his chest and leant in. She didn’t know how to passenger a motorbike, but he didn’t say she did it wrong.

“You ready?”

“Jason, are you going to kill me?”

“Well if the shoe fits.” he mused.

“I’m ready.”

And off they went.

There was something about the way the bike drove through the streets of Gotham that she loved so much, she had already fallen in love with the restless city and called it home long before right now, but this was exhilarating for her. Somehow driving at 120mph was amazing, it brought out this feeling of freedom, something she hadn’t ever felt back home in Metropolis.

It’s worth it, she thought, it’s forever going to be worth it.

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

Pulling her off of his bike, the two of them laid underneath the tree on the small hill Jason pulled over by.

“Do you think we escaped the pap?” she asked him.

“Probably not.”

“Festive.”

“So, Y/N, it’s your turn to open up about your family. Besides your mum, I already know about your mum.”

“So, my twin sister goes to our rival school, the Metropolis one, I think she’s more of a people person than I’ll ever be. My parents are still together, they got married after they had my sister and I, so I’m a bastard,” she laughed, “I always like telling people I’m by definition a bastard, a lot of them get mad all like, ‘don’t call yourself that you’re a lovely girl’ and it’s just funny to me,”

He laughed, “You call yourself a bastard out of spite?”

“Am I supposed to not? I think it’s funny-”

“It’s pretty funny. I live out of spite too,” he said, almost like he was pulling out a bad memory, but she egged him on slightly,

“Spite who?” she asked.

“Spite God.”

She let out a laugh, and he seemed to let go of whatever memory he had clung onto to watch her laugh. It was clearly a distracting laugh.

“God tried to strike you and you just went ‘Nah mate, go away’? Respectable. I would do that.” she said while laughing.

“That’s exactly what happened, Y/N-” and his phone pinged, he turned it over, it was Dick.

“Mind sharing who that is?”

“I don’t mind, it’s my older brother sending me an article of us today. We really gave them a show holding hands,” he began reading, “ ‘Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd, Caught Holding Hands with the Mystery Girl.’ “

“One day they will know my name. And it will be a massive article. Like a gender reveal.”

“Like a gender reveal?!” he said back to her, laughing so hard his smile reached ends she didn’t expect it to be able to go.

“It wasn’t that funny of a joke, Jason,” she said.

“It’s a better joke than my brothers and sister could ever come up with, Y/N, and they’ve had Galas to practice for,” he retorted.

“I’ll set it ablaze like the California gender reveal,” she continued with the joke, expecting this to be too far, but this also showed her that Jason liked dark humor, and she did too.

He burst out laughing at this, and she smiled.

“You have perfect teeth, Jason.”

“Is that what you’re focused on?” he asked.

“They are the forefront when you smile, it is hard not to.”

“Romantic,” he mocked her.

“I can be more romantic next date, if you want it,” she said, inclined towards him saying I want it. She was right.

“I want it.”

[taeescript]

I Promise (I)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> Some people have the gifted ability of music; others of mathematics; some perhaps as persuasive argumentators. You have a “gift”, if one would like to call it that. It is the ability to know when somebody is telling a lie. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> hoseok x reader; ?? x reader (the whole gang joins at some point) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> mafia!au 

𝔴/𝔠 >> 3.1k 

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mentions of drug use. nothing else much really it’s actually pretty tame right now 

𝔞/𝔫: would you believe be if i said this whole thing was inspired by this singular gif? I lost my old account (rip old fics) but here I am starting new and writing again. Nervous, but please show some love 

next part

The music is blasting in your room, and the bass rumbles causing your heart to beat to the rhythm of the song. However, your fingers are tapping to their own creation of a tempo while your other hand scribbles a note down on a piece of paper. It is the end of June and that means you have just received your paycheque.

  “$9.74,” you repeat after your calculation, “I’ve got an extra $9.74 to spend.” You lean back in your chair and continues to bob your head. The wall behind you thumps to its own tempo; not of the song that is playing but its own rhythmic pattern. Your roommate is at it again. You close your eyes and allow yourself to drift. $9.74. You could get an extra meal. Or an extra drink at the bar. Or maybe you could just put that into your bank account. But that’d be useless, just sitting there. In the very distance, you hear the thumping of your roommate stop and its door creaks open. Another set of doors creak a couple of seconds later. You get out of your seat and open the door to your own room.

  Seohyun, your roommate, brushes past you wearing only a pair of shorts and her favourite black laced bra. She walks to the door of the apartment and kisses the man on the lips before taking a drag of the cigarette she is holding in the other hand. He stands with a hand in his pocket and the buttons of his shirt undone. You watch as Seohyun bites his lip before ending the kiss.

  “You’re the best,” you hear the robust mint-haired female say.

Cue the all too familiar buzzing.

“Love you, babe,” he says, kissing her one last time before leaving.

The buzzing halts.

“Love you too,” Seohyun kisses him one last time before gently pushing him out the door, closing it when he leaves.

And there returns the buzz.

Seohyun turns to walk back to her room and notices you standing there. “Hey,” she greets.

  “You know, he actually does like you,” you comment, coming out of your room. You rub the back of your neck and rotate it once to get rid of the stress. Seohyun sits down on the brown couch in the small living room and takes out a tin box. She crosses her legs and rummages through its contents. A cigarette leaves its embers on the ashtray in the table in front of her. “Right. And I like him too,” Seohyun replies, taking out what she had been looking for, “Him and his drugs.” She shakes the white packet before opening it up. She sniffs the contents once and sighs. Making a motion towards you, she offers its contents to you.

  You shake your head. You return into your room briefly to turn off the music and grab your phone and jacket. When you walk back out, you see that the packet is empty and Seohyun is passed out on the couch, fingers still speckled with white dust. You make a quick stop into Seohyun’s room to grab a blanket for her before locking the keys to the apartment.

  Your apartment, technically. You had been the one to pay full payment and was content in living alone until Seohyun showed up one night, begging for a place to sleep. You couldn’t let her sleep outside so you agreed. That one night turned into a week and finally a year, where Seohyun still stays.

  It isn’t like you didn’t enjoy Seohyun’s company. She is nice to be around, always engaging in some next level philosophical topic, particularly when she is high. It is, however, slightly annoying whenever she brings her “boyfriend”, or boyfriends at times, to the place, but you have learned to drown out their voices and actions by blasting your music. But what you like about Seohyun the most is that she doesn’t ask questions. The buzzing in your head is also always strangely quieter around the other girl as well.

  You trudge up the stairs and immediately brings a hand to shield your eyes from the bright sun. It is about seven in the evening but still way too bright for your liking. You like the darkness night brought with it. Serene. Solemn. Locking the gate to the building behind you, you walk down the streets all the while rolling your neck due to its tense state.

  No matter how many times it happened, you’d still feel its pain.

  The lingering pain left as a reminder of your unique power; gift; thing. Whatever people wanted to call it.

  You knew whenever somebody told a lie.

  You would feel this strange buzzing at the base of your neck when a person said anything but the truth around you. The buzzing didn’t come every time you talked to somebody - you couldn’t catch all the lies that came out of people’s mouths - but it occurred often enough to be a nuisance to you. While the buzzing wasn’t painful in itself, it always caused your neck to be in sore pain. The pain was not indicative of how big the lie was, however. A lie that involved so many twists and turns that even its creator could not keep track would give you pain. A small white lie would give you the same pain. To you, it was just pain.

  You quickly turn the corner and made your way down the stairs into the subway station. The man at the window gives you a small smile in which you did not return but hastily walk through the gate. One hour. It took 46 minutes to get to the station and another twelve minutes to walk. You had one hour. The subway could not be late.

  You were not always a walking human lie detector. In fact, you had only been living like this for the past six years of the total of your twenty-six. At least consciously aware of this ability of yours for that time period.

  If you really had to pinpoint when it started, you would connect it to approximately four more years prior to that: first year of high school. The prime time of adolescence.

  You could hear the first subway leave, vibrations through the sole of your feet and its wheels screeching on the tracks. That left two minutes for you to make it to the opposite platform which was for the direction you wanted to go. You glance at the elevator you are currently standing in front of. It had not budged from “G” for a while now. You glance at the stairs just a couple of steps away. Sighing, you leave your spot and make your way down the stairs. One and a half minute.

  The first year of high school sucked. Your parents had always screaming at each other and your brother was constantly skipping school. You did not want to be a second disappointment to your parents so you spent all her time studying in the library. It was also an excuse to be out of the house. One day, you returned home and found your mother crying on the steps of their house.

  “Mom, did you and Dad fight again?”

  Your mother did not meet your eyes. “Are you okay?” you had asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, trying to console your mother as best as a fourteen year old could do.

  “I’m fine,” your mother answered. That was when you first heard a faint buzzing. It was strange for bees to be around their flowerless yard.

“You don’t look fine,” you had pressed on, “Will you and Dad be okay?”

  Your mother shifted her position and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at you with a bruised eye and said, “Your dad will be okay.” The buzzing seemed to fade.

  You patted the still damp cheek of your mother and hugged the fragile women. You slowly rubbed your mother’s back in small circles. “Mom, you and Dad will work things out. So promise me you guys won’t leave each other.”

  “I promise,” your mother had reassured you. That was when you cried out in pain as the buzzing attacked you. Your mother had been alarmed and you had laughed it off, saying that a bee had probably stung the back of your neck while she wasn’t aware. The duo then got off the floor and held hands as together, you walked back into the house.

  Your parents split a week later.

  You had never found it in herself to forgive your mother after that. You hadn’t even known that you had been lied to until you really thought about it in your years as an adult. You just hated the fact that your mother had promised something that she had been planning to break. When high school ended, you picked a college as far away from your mother’s house as you could. You poured all of your time into your academics and never bothered making friends. Throughout the four years there, you had occasionally felt the buzzing but did not really associate it with anything around her. It only became prominent when you started working at your first job.

  To any fresh graduate, this was a hire that was ever only dreamt of. It was a position with a high status in the company: Assistant Director of Internal Affairs. The company had been extremely impressed with your grades and all the extracurriculars you participated in. You had flown to three different cities outside of your own country as an intern and placed first in multiple conferences. It was no mistake that you had gotten in. You had been ecstatic when they spoke to you. You could finally move out of your mother’s house, in which you had temporarily been staying in while job searching; live in a city a thousand miles away from where she currently was, and was able to be somebody whom nobody knew about. It was your dream come true.

  That turned out to be a disaster. Every day you went into work, the buzzing would surround you and send you moaning in pain to the bathroom. You could barely speak to any of your coworkers without wanting to strangle them and tell them to be quiet. You could not attend any of the meetings and you had to call in multiple sick days within her first week there. Needless to say, this affected your work performance and after an agonizing four and a half months, the company fired you.

  Being without a job meant that you had no steady income. So, you moved out of the luxurious apartment you had just bought with your new salary and used the remaining money to buy the dank, run down one you were currently living in. You searched everywhere and finally found a waitress for hire at a bar close to the middle of the city. It was an hour from where you lived, but at least there you could dull the buzzing with alcohol. And this was how you lived for the past two years.

  You cursed. You missed it. The subway left you in its smoke as you got off the last step of the descending staircase.

...

The other man was slouched against the pillar of the building, blood running freely down the side of his head while his hand tried to keep in the rest of his blood from escaping out of the hole on his side. He panted, gasping for whatever oxygen was available.

  “Tell me,” the younger man towered over him, “Where did you hide the stash?” “I didn’t hide it, man. I swear. It’s where they asked me to leave it,” the bleeding man held his remaining hand in front of him in defense. “Please don’t hurt me.” There was a swish and cold metal sliced the air. He was not taller than the man, nor any stronger. But he had youth and a quick mind. More importantly, he had a weapon.

“Trust me. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, so don’t make me do something I don’t want to do,” he crouched and put his face close to the other man’s. He pressed the knife against his throat.

  The man whimpered as a thin line of fresh blood was drawn. “Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt me,” he said again, voice barely a whisper.

  The two stayed in that position until the younger abruptly stood up. “Fine, I won’t hurt you,” he stepped back, “But it’ll be on you when she gets hurt.” His movement is fast and he grabs the wrist of the single other person in the station.

...

  You stand with your back against the man, the knife held against your neck this time.

You dare not to move. You swallow once and glance down at the bleeding stranger. He is staring right back at you.

  From movies and dramas, you know not to fight back in scenarios like this. You also know not to scream as this would agitate both parties. You return the strangers stare: “Help me”.

  Your capturer’s voice rumbles through his chest and onto your back as he speaks, “Your choice. I can kill this girl and have it pinned on you, or you can just tell me where you put the stash.”

  “Please,” the bloody man pleads, “I’m just a carrier. I don’t know where any of the merchandise is. I… I admit it, alright? I disobeyed the instructions this time. I didn’t leave it where they told me.”

  You feel yourself being dragged closer to the subway tracks. Maybe you should kick or flail around a little. You try, but the man holds you steady. The blade is dangerously close to cutting your skin.

  The bleeding man can only watch in horror as the other man stands precariously on the edge of the tracks. “I’m going to push her down,” he is warned. His mind was frantic. He had been told that his task would be simple. He did not know that it would involve another human being to be hurt in the process. His mind flashes back to his little girl, probably still waiting for her father in their small flat.

  “I got another message right before I left,” he starts saying, “Please don’t hurt the girl. Please don’t hurt me. I’ve got a family.”

  “Don’t we all,” the voice behind you drawls in sarcasm, “Give me another excuse of why I need to keep listening.”

  You kick your assaulter. He grips you tighter. She look back at the bleeding man on the ground. He is still staring at you with wide eyes.

  “The message told me that the location had changed. I wasn’t sure if I should trust it, but an hour before the pickup time, another note showed up on my doorstep and said that if I brought it to the second location, I’d get an extra $150, so I did it,” he continues.

You feel the tension in your neck slightly subside amongst the chaos. You kicked your assaulter again.

  “Exact location. Now,” the voice demands.

  “Corner of 16th and Main,” he stammers.

  You kick a little harder this time, trying to wiggle out of the tight grip. It is really starting to hurt you. You feel yourself being pushed towards the bleeding man. Both you and your assaulter get extremely close to the man lying on the ground.

  You sniff once and instantly regret it. Mixed with the blood, you can smell the acidity of urine. The man is now crying and you think you could see the pool around him widen ever so slightly.

  “Please sir, I’ve told you everything that I know. I followed the instructions and left it there. I did not hide it. Somebody else must’ve used me to get it. I swear, Sir, I swear,” he holds his hands out and rubs them, a symbol of asking for mercy.

  The two of you stand up, or rather you are hauled up for the man. The knife nicks your neck and you swear under your breath. You can feel the two men stare at each other for a long time.

  “Scram,” the one behind her rasps. It takes a while for the bleeding man to stand, but adrenaline does wonders when the body is in danger. He limps out and up the stairs before he can be told twice. There is a rumbling in the distance to indicate that the next subway is arriving.

  “There’s a train coming,” you finally talk, “A train means there’s people.” Your assaulter still does not let go.

  “You’re hurting me,” you wiggled in his grasp. He loosens it and you finally get away. You turn and glare through your bangs at the man who has been holding you captive. You touch a finger to where the knife had nicked you, then examined it: there is blood.

  The man standing has put his knife away. He is studying you with eyes as intense as yours while bringing the lighter to the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a long drag and blows it in your direction.

  Standing only a few inches taller than you, he is of slightly above average height. He wears the iconic baggy shirt and jeans of the common gangsters that prowl the area. Even in the dim light of the subway station, you can make out the tattoo of a dragon spiraling up his arm. He does nothing to hide the fact that he is affiliated with the mafia.

  You are not particularly intimidating yourself. You stand at 164cm but wear a constant scowl. With your broken nose from a fall in your childhood, the feature makes your whole facial symmetry shift ever slightly to the left, accentuating the scowl even more. In a black t-shirt, black dress pants and black shoes, you wave her hand to rid herself of the smell of smoke.

  “So, was he lying?” the man finally speaks after a period of silence.

  “Fuck off, Jung Hoseok,” you growl.

[okay-j-hannah]

All’s Fair In Love And War

The Marauders : Fic

Sirius x Reader and James x Reader!Platonic 

Word Count: 3492

Warnings: ANGST my guy... copious amounts of ANGST but with a happily ever after 😊

Request: “Dudee! May the best man win was awesome! Please give us a part two of Y/N ignoring them so hard and making them regret!” - Anon

A/N:

Part 1: May The Best Man Win

Remus tapped his quill incessantly into his desk, unable to concentrate on his exam. A few rows away he could see Peter staring at his parchment with his fidgeting hands in his lap. He had no idea where to begin with the list of questions.

Beside him was James, a sight to behold. Not wishing to be caught by McGonagall, he only snuck a few glances at his pale friend. James was disheveled, his hair unkempt as ever but with something more unnerving – as if he didn’t even care to look at it, brush it. The effort appeared to be in his school uniform, at least he managed to fold his collar despite how wrinkled the rest of his shirt was. His tie was loose, and it remained the reason Remus knew his friend was still breathing, cause he could see it rising and falling on his chest.

He was just sitting so still. He was staring into nothing. The circles under his eyes could rival Remus’ around a full moon.

And adjacent to him was an empty desk, one that should be housing Sirius. He hadn’t even shown up for their end of year exam.

Remus sighed, feeling his quill tip dull under the pressure he prodded. At least James was able to show. He had no doubt Sirius was brooding in the corner of the common room, butterbeer in hand. Or else he was sitting beside the Blake Lake, toes turning blue as he stuck his feet in the water.

Yes, at least James came to the Great Hall to take his exam, even if he wasn’t looking at the parchment. Remus knew he was staring at the pair of girls at the other end of the hall.

There was (Y/N) and her friend Mary, each scribbling along their exams as the rest of the students should be. McGonagall began walking between the desks and Remus returned his gaze to his own scroll of transfiguration questions.

It had been a few weeks since those dreaded Easter holidays and every second had been a personal hell for the marauders. James was humbled, became extremely tolerant, and had lost his first quidditch game in years. Sirius became something more irritable; he was edgy and sought the solidarity of dark corners. He rarely socialized, couldn’t even bring himself to take the mickey out on Peter.

It was a grand awakening for James, it made him regret and change. He no longer felt the need to terrorize younger students or attack Snivellus. He was kinder to those around him and even offered to help where he could. Though he did all of it with a glazed look in his eyes and a depressed smile on his face.

Sirius, in the classic fashion of being James’ complete opposite, turned in on himself. He became self-deprecating and didn’t wish to inflict that torment on anyone else. He believed in every ounce of hate he received, in the amount of guilt he harbored. He struggled to see past the bad. His life was teeming with it.

The Great Hall doors burst open, and the flittering steps of Professor Dumbledore appeared. At his side was a very reluctant Sirius.

“Ah, Professor McGonagall,” he said with lightness that did not match the person beside him. “I believe you’re missing a student.”

“Black,” McGonagall snipped, walking towards him and eyeing his ruffled clothes, “You’re thirty minutes late.”

Sirius merely shrugged his shoulders, looking anywhere but the corner of the room (Y/N) and Mary stared.

McGonagall released a heavy sigh, though her brow modeled concern. “Well, take your seat. You’ve still got around an hour to finish the exam. I suggest you use the time wisely.” She shared a look with Dumbledore as Sirius retreated.

Remus and James followed their friend with worry in their eyes, but his desk was too far for them to ask silent questions.

Sirius merely slumped in his chair and twiddled with his quill. He may have been forced to be there, but that didn’t mean he was going to comply with the test taking. Remus forced himself to return his attention to his own exam. And the rest of the hour was filled with a ticking clock and scratching quills.

By the time McGonagall waved her wand and called forth the scrolls of parchment, Remus devised another tactic to fix the wellbeing of his companions. Instead of greeting James and Peter, he chose to wait by the door until (Y/N) came by.

She had her head held high, book bag tight on her arm.

“(Y/N).”

“Not now, Remus, I’ve got to study for Charms.” Mary was nearby, leading the way outside. “I don’t want to hear some other passed along apology.”

Remus wringed his hands, falling into step beside her, “I’m not trying to speak for them. I just want to talk to you. I – I’m worried.”

There was a small pause in her steps, but she kept forward, “It’s none of my concern.”

“But they’re not getting any better,” a new curt edge in his tone, “They’re not themselves anymore.”

“I distinctly remember saying that they don’t exist anymore. I don’t care, Remus.”

“You don’t want to care.”

She finally stopped and turned to him, “I’m moving on. And I won’t be able to keep doing that if you bring this up every time I see you.” But she hesitated at the look on his face, “Remus, what’s wrong?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes full of fretting, “I know you think this was some kind of joke – and it was for a while – but I don’t think you realize how far they fell for you.”

“And that’s supposed to make what they did okay?”

“No,” he bit back, “Not at all. But what’s happening to them right now, that is proof that they regret. That they are sorry for what they did. I think they…”

(Y/N) folded her arms, clearly unimpressed, “Think they what?”

“They need a little forgiveness to get better.”

“No,” she snapped, whipping around and continuing down the entryway, “I’m glad they’re stewing in their regret. They should be.”

“For how long, (Y/N)?” Remus begged, following her steps, “I’m tired of watching them wither away.”

“Please,” she scoffed, “You were there when we had this conversation. I don’t want to see or speak to them. Ever.”

Remus felt his blood boil over, “It’s killing them, (Y/N)! And I won’t watch it anymore. I am terrified that they’re going to be like this forever. You see them, (Y/N), I know you do. You look when you think no one’s around.”

She stiffened, “What do you want me to do, Remus? I can’t forgive them – not yet at least.”

“Please, just talk to them. Make them feel less invisible.”

“I don’t know…”

Remus grabbed her shoulders and made her face him. “James keeps his snitch locked away in his trunk. Sirius gets detention and then does it without a fuss.” Her gaze was hard, but he could see it thinning. “I can’t get James to do so much as nick food from the kitchens – all he does is study like the obedient student he’s never been. I don’t think I’ve heard Sirius make a complete sentence since the holidays. He refuses to even keep company with his friends.”

She swallowed hard, “They hurt me, Remus. They hurt me bad. It’s – It’s hard for me to look past the game they played. Even if their feelings have changed.”

“Please, (Y/N), I’m begging,” he retorted. “Just talk to them, get some closure. I know you made a choice back on that train. Could you just give them some piece of mind? I’m sure it would help you too.”

She looked up at him with some remorse in her gaze, until it flitted to whatever was behind his shoulder.

He whipped around and found Sirius standing several feet away. There was a slouch in his shoulders and his hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes. But there was clear pain and longing there where he stared back.

(Y/N) took an involuntary step backward, hands winding tight around her book bag. Her breathing hitched in her throat and Remus sidestepped.

Sirius took a shaky breath, his eyes purple rimmed and stinging, “(Y/N) …”

But she had already turned on her heel and darted towards her common room. The sigh that escaped Sirius had Remus at his shoulder in an instant.

~~~

There was no one else on the quidditch pitch when she sat in the stands. She sat there and waited, her heart thumping a thousand beats a second. She knew he’d be walking by any minute; he always did on the weekends.

She could hear footsteps thumping against the grass and a chill went up her spine. James came around the corner, kicking dandelions as he went. But his steps faltered, his eyes went wide.

“(Y/N)?”

The edge of fear in his voice put a familiar thump in her chest, “Hey, James.”

His breathing got heavier, his hands running up to tangle in his hair, “You… you’re not running away.”

“I wanted to talk.”

After spending so much time avoiding him, it was a shock to see the state of him. His glasses hid most of the tiredness in his eyes, but he was pale, paler than usual. His voice was raspy where he choked on the words.

“Talk?” She patted the seat next to her and watched him weigh whether or not she was joking before sitting. “Had a change of heart?”

She took a deep breath, keeping her hands tight in her lap. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking a lot about the last time we talked. What I said to you.”

“It’s all right, (Y/N). You were right – you had the right to be angry. I’m just… I’m glad we’re talking now.”

She turned to him and was met with a pained grimace, “I think you need to hear me say it.” He shut his mouth real quick. “James, what you did was horrible, terrible. I thought of it as unforgiveable. But if there’s anything that could’ve proven to me that you guys felt differently about the joke, it’s how you guys have been behaving the last few weeks.

“I think I’ve been punishing you because of my own embarrassment. But honestly – this grudge holding deal isn’t healthy for either of us.”

“You’re looking better than any of us,” James laughed, disbelief ringing in his ears.

She smiled his favorite smile, “I forgive you James.”

He sighed, leaning over and putting his head in his hands. “Thank you, (Y/N), thank you.” He turned to her with an earsplitting grin, “I know I was stupid and arrogant, and it was just some childish bet. We didn’t think about the people we would hurt.”

She started to laugh, “I know, James – that’s why you’re forgiven.” But then she caught the subtle look in his eyes, and she had to suck in her lips. “Look James…”

“It wasn’t going to be me, was it?” the understanding in his voice was remarkable.

“You’re not mad?”

He leaned back, rubbing his tired eyes beneath his glasses, “Mad? You’ve just forgiven me from one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done – of course I’m not mad.”

(Y/N) ran sweaty hands against her knees, “I think you should talk to Lily.” That made his eyebrows raise, “Ever since you’ve knocked down your ego a few notches, she’s started seeing the good in you.”

A newfound smile crept onto his face, “There might be a happy ending for us all yet. Have you told… Sirius?” The stillness of her expression gave the answer away, “You know, I think he’s been far worse than me. You’re going to want to find him quick.”

She shared a glance with him and an appreciative smile, “It’s so good to talk to you again.”

~~~

It didn’t take her long to track down Sirius, he hid out in only a few different places those days. She kept James beside her, each taking turns talking and catching the other up on all they’ve missed. They trailed down the corridor, James falling easily back into how things used to be with (Y/N).

“Let me carry your book bag.”

“James…” The edge in her voice made him laugh, even more as she raised a brow.

“I’m just being friendly, just like we used to.”

And with a comforting feeling of nostalgia, she handed her bag over, giving him a swift punch to the arm for good measure. He rubbed the spot mockingly with a dramatic whine on his lips.

“So how do you suppose I should talk to Evans?”

“You can start by calling her by her first name.”

“She likes being called Evans.”

“Since when has she liked anything you do, James?”

He shrugged half-heartedly, “Just recently, if my sources are correct.”

(Y/N) sighed with an easy smile on her face, “You made friends with me fairly quickly. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

James pondered with an animated look, “All right, you want to make a bet? How fast I’ll win Lily’s affections?”

“Too soon, Potter – way too soon.” But she was smiling, nonetheless. So much so that she didn’t notice the new visitor coming down the hall.

They were on their way towards one of the secret entrances that the Marauders discovered for their map of mischief. There was always the chance of finding one of the quartet skulking in the entryway or hiding along the passage in case Filch or Minnie was after them.

It appeared Sirius had taken such refuge, deciding to come out when he heard familiar voices. And the sight before him took what shattered glass his chest was and refine it to sand.

(Y/N) and James were walking side by side, laughing and talking as if no time had passed between the Easter holidays and now. Then deep in his gut, he knew, (Y/N) had chosen James – it was James from the beginning.

She chose to forgive James and now they were going to live happily ever after.

And Sirius was left to despair in painful silence.

(Y/N) looked up and found her sweet smile vanish instantly. James was quick to follow, readjusting the bag on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, as if the words he was just saying were suddenly lodged in his throat.

“Back at it, I see.” The hoarseness in Sirius’ voice was heart wrenching.

James flickered his eyes towards (Y/N), noticing her shock, and saying, “How are you, mate? It’s been a bit.”

“A bit.” Sirius muttered, repeating the last words with a hardened gaze. “You’ve moved on since last I saw you.”

(Y/N) couldn’t bear to hear the betrayal and anguish in his words. She knew what it looked like. Like she had chosen James and didn’t want to waste her time keeping Sirius in her life.

“Sirius.”

The way she said his name sent a flood of emotion in him that Sirius didn’t like. He didn’t like not being in control of his emotions. He didn’t like that he couldn’t hold himself together. He hated the fact that seeing her looking back at him after all this time was crumbling him as if she’d yelled at him all over again.

“I won’t bother you. Enjoy your evening.” And Sirius turned as quickly as his sleep deprived, wobbly knees would let him, and leave the corridor.

(Y/N) took one step forward and hesitated, a hand outstretched, but the words wouldn’t form from her jumbled thoughts. There was only a look of horror as she watched him leave. James was eyeing her with sympathy, his heart just as punctured by Sirius’ obvious loathing.

“Look at your face,” he feigned a smirk, “You really do care about him, don’t you?”

She finally shut her gapping mouth, biting her lip, “Now more than ever.”

James nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders and leaning down to whisper, “Then go after him.”

In an instant she was running down the corridor, turning sharp and feeling her shoes slide from her momentum. Her throat was dry, and her eyes burned, but she ran like there was nothing else in the world that mattered.

And there was Sirius about to make his way outside and to the courtyard. But she yelled for him first.

“Sirius!”

When he turned there were obvious tears in his eyes, tears that betrayed him and fell at the sound of her voice.

“Sirius, wait, please!”

He could only dare to imagine what she meant by that. But it was enough to keep him rooted to the spot. She was talking to him for the first time in weeks. She was looking at him with something other than hatred.

And the fine sand of his chest rustled with hope against his wishes.

(Y/N) ran so fast that when she collided with him, he was almost knocked off his feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tight against her.

His breathing quickly began to rise to match hers, though he wasn’t the one who had just ran down the stretch of a few corridors. His arms remained limp at his sides, disbelief etching every part of his face.

Only to feel the doubt creep in.

She just wanted to clear the air, so it wasn’t awkward for James and her. She wanted him to be happy for her and James. She wanted them to be friends again.

The problem was that he wasn’t going to survive witnessing those two together.

“(Y/N), don’t do that.” He reluctantly reached for her arms and pulled her away, “You can’t do that.”

He was oblivious to the immediate confusion in her reddened face, “What are you talking about, Sirius? Do you not want me anymore?” Again he didn’t notice how her eyes began to fill with tears similar to his.

He dared to look at her face, to see the features he’d been dreaming about for weeks. He let his gaze linger despite the yelling in his head to spare himself from the pain that would later come. Another hot tear escaped the corner of his eye.

“How could you ever think that?”

She sighed out an exhausted breath, “You are determined to stay unhappy, aren’t you?” When his loving gaze faltered into confusion, she continued, “Sirius, what you saw back there… that was James and I being friends. I just spoke to him this morning and we made up. We decided to be friends again, and to just be friends. The only reason I spoke to him first was because… well, I was more nervous about talking to you.”

Sirius was too busy going over what he had seen earlier, analyzing the interactions between (Y/N) and James.

“Sirius, what happened between us was horrible. I was so hurt that I didn’t give any thought to how you felt. Obviously, an entire school year is a long time to spend with one person, and I’m sure pretending became real very quickly.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes itchy from the tears. But he didn’t dare speak, it was all too good to be true. He didn’t want to wake up from whatever dream this was.

“I forgive you, Sirius.”

He let out an unexpected breath, blinking fast – he was not ready for it. His hands clenched into fists as she took another step closer.

“I forgive you – and it’s been paining me to see you like this. That I did this to you.”

“I did this to myself,” he rasped, “You could never do anything so cruel. Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

Then she was holding his face in her hands, wiping away his tears. She felt her heart skip at the way his eyes closed, and he leaned into her palm. “I want to make things right.”

He reached up and placed a trembling hand over one of hers. “Friends again?”

She smiled an easy smile that heated his face. “Actually…” And she encased his lips with hers. She could feel the stutter in his breath from shock. His limp arms hesitantly rose to graze her waist, unable to will himself over completely.

She broke away, pecking his lips once – twice – more. “Does that tell you plain enough?”

He was trying his best to get his breathing under control. His lower lip was starting to quiver, “So… just friends then?” A smile broke out on those trembling lips.

“Right,” she laughed, wrapping herself around him again, hugging him tightly. And this time he returned the feeling, holding her close by the waist. “I made my choice a long time ago. It’s just taken me a while to figure out how to tell you.”

Sirius buried his face into her shoulder, feeling his chest begin to repair itself. His heart thumped excitedly.

There was no possible way he was going to let go of her any time soon.

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa  @andreasworlsboring101 @chiefqueef22

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

[yoonia]

[Teaser] Blurred Lines

➬ Title | Blurred Lines

➬ Pairings | Kim Seokjin x reader

➬ Genre | Smut, Sexual Tension!au, Teacher!Jin, Teacher!reader, Tattooed Biker!Jin

➬ Summary | A new place to live, a new job, a new beginning. Six months have passed and everything has been going well for you in starting over. The warm welcome from your students and peers have quickly made you feel at home, yet you still long to have one calm day where you wouldn’t have to walk into the school with a heavy weight on your shoulders and the air thick with tension. Blame it on him—the strict English teacher who keeps giving you cold shoulders no matter how many times you try to play nice. One night out with your girls and a drunken dare ultimately lead you to uncover what he’s been trying to hide. People do say that the quiet ones always keep the biggest secret.

↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

↳ Warning | Slow burn, mutual pinning, mention of alcohol consumption, hard dom!Jin, bondage, big cock!seokjin, dirty talk, mild degradation, cum play, creampie, tattoos and dick piercing, idk I might add more as I write this

↳ Estimated word count | 10k-15k words

↳ Estimated posting date | Dec 2nd, 2020 Dec 4th/5th, 2020

↳ Excerpt

“I’m not so sure about this,” you complain as your two friends barge in through the front entrance of the bar. Though you know that you are losing the fight when they keep pulling you along with them and you have no other choice but to give in when the drinks you had taken so far slowly begin to sink in their claws in you.

Holli wraps her arm around yours so she can drag you with her. “Oh, come on. Our goal tonight is to try on as many bars as we could get and none that we’ve been into looks like this one.”  

Of course, they haven’t, since none of the bars you went to had looked anything like a bikers’s bar. And even under the state of tipsiness, you can still recognise this place as the one that you would usually avoid whenever you walk past down this road.

Both of your girls seem like an expert as they wave through the crowd, heading straight to the seating area to find yourselves an available booth.

The bar is nearly packed wherever you look. Only a few empty seats seem to be available, even with many of the patrons standing up, either crowding the pool table, lining up at the bar counter, or gathering in groups on the dance floor. Except that nobody appears to be dancing.

God knows how Holli can manage to snatch a seat at all through all of this, but she does it with ease. Taking one last look around as you take your seat, you are glad to have gotten a few drinks in from the previous bars. You would have never been brave enough to step foot into this place if you had been sober when you came in. Wherever you look, you see big, burly men drinking beer and laughing. Their muscles stretching out from beneath their tops—some wearing tight black T-shirts, some wearing white sleeveless muscle tops, either one had made their bulging muscles look like they are about to burst out of them—their ink work peeking out from either their sleeves or their necklines, and they are all wearing matching leather vests with silver studs on the shoulders, with a logo resembling a girl sitting spread-legged on top of a motorcycle and the name “Howlers” embedded at the back of said vests. You can even see that some of the men are sporting matching tattoos on their skin, though not all of them have them on the same spots—some on their necks, their upper arms, or at the back of their hand that is holding a glass of beer.

There are a few girls hanging out with them, some are simply sitting or standing close, while others are practically clinging on their men’s muscled arm. They are all wearing matching leather vests as well, suggesting that they are either members of their motorcycle club or they are here as their lovers, though the vests look much smaller in size and are a bit tight around the chest.

Waitresses with crop tops and tight plaid miniskirts walk around the room with trays that are never empty. They are always filled with glasses of beer that are filled to the brim, almost spilling as they weave their way through the crowd. The girls would occasionally stop on the tables they are tending to in between trips, chatting along with the patrons as if they are all old friends. And even through your drunken haze, you are pleased to find that none of the men are acting like sleazy bastards that might be disrespectful around these working ladies.

Damn, even those strong drinks Holli gave you still couldn’t get you out of your proverbial teachers’ shoes, it seems?

You look up just as one of the waitresses comes to your table, all warm smile and polite greetings. The lack of judgement in her eyes as she looks between the three of you sort of eases you down a little, and the apprehension you have been feeling upon entering the foreign place slowly fades away.

“Welcome to Anchor Roadhouse, what can I get for you ladies?”

Jennie leans forward over the table to make the order. “Cold beer for three, please. Oh, and with double shots of tequila on the side for each?”

The waitress nods. “You got it. Be right back.”

“We’re going a bit over the top, aren’t we?” you ask the girls as the waitress turns to make her way towards the bar to retrieve your orders, and Jennie only shrugs.

“This place looks like way more fun than the ones we’ve been before,” she says, looking around as she admires the sight she is seeing at all corners. You would have never thought that your best friend would have a liking to tattooed, burly men, but you are finding out all the new things about your friends tonight.

“It sure is. So might as well have fun,” Holli agrees with her, before turning to glance at your way. “But most importantly, we still have someone between us who has yet to do the dare.”

Ah, yes. The dare. You refrain from rolling your eyes as you are reminded of it. You have hoped that choosing to be the last one to do it would be able to safe your ass from actually doing it, thinking that your girls would have been too drunk to notice that you are skipping it by then.

You look around again, perusing the field and making plans, when you suddenly feel the heat of someone’s piercing gaze burning on your back, only to see that nobody is actually paying attention to any of you. But the quick scan around the room has you feeling quite intimidated all the same. Just how on earth are you supposed to get one of these burly bikers to buy you a drink?

You look at all the girls around you and consciously begin to compare yourself to them. Unlike these girls who are confident enough to flaunt their skin while wearing leathers and tight tops, you feel like everyone could look your way and figure out instantly that you are no more than a mousy high school teacher. Not even the mini black dress that you are wearing—no matter how tight and revealing it is—and the killer heels could hide it from the world.

The waitress returns just as you are about to give a closer look at the bar, to find your way in on finding a lone biker to talk to, and you are surprised to see her carrying not just three glasses of beer as requested, but a whole pitcher of it.

Everyone at the table looks at one another in confusion, yet the waitress simply sets down the pitcher and the clean glasses around the table, along with the tequila shots, and sets them all up as if there is nothing wrong with the order.

“Um—I’m sorry—” you try to cut in, “We didn’t order the whole pitcher.”

The waitress keeps her smile on her face when she raises her eyebrows. “Oh, don’t worry, Doll. It’s in the house. The owner wants to welcome you girls properly.”

You look at your friends again before asking, “The owner?”

The waitress cocks her hips once she is done setting up the drinks and tilts her head towards the bar. “Yeah, see the sweetheart standing right behind the counter over there? He’s watching over you girls to make sure you’re having a good time.”

You turn back to look at the bar as the waitress walks over to the next table right after Holli thanks her almost too excitedly. As if the night hasn’t gone any weirder yet, the crowd slowly parts way to give you the full good look at the bar counter.

And that is when you see him.

Standing behind the counter the way the waitress had described him is a familiar face. The same face that has your spine rigid and your muscles growing tense whenever you step foot into the school in the morning, knowing that your schedules will allow you to cross path with each other. He is now looking at you almost the same way he does it at school, the same way his gaze is locked on every move you make to have you feeling terribly self-conscious in everything you do when you are around him. Like every single move may end up as a mistake.

And now he is there, looking at you closely, though you are surprised to find him doing so without any judgemental look in his eyes when he finds you. He had discarded the ivory-rimmed glasses he normally wears, and instead of wearing his usual long sleeves dress shirt, he is wearing a black tight sleeveless top that puts his perfectly toned arms and shoulders on display, showing off the ink work that marks the length of his arms and all the way up to his neck, presenting you all the drawings and scribbles of words that you have never seen on him before. His fancy velvet coat has been replaced with a leather biker vest which looks exactly the same as to what everyone here is wearing.

You can barely get over the shock of not seeing the usual scowl that he normally wears at school, when his smile slowly grows upon noticing that you are looking straight at him, making your jaw drops even further.

This must be a dream, you wonder to yourself.

Because there is no way you are seeing Kim Seokjin—the strict English teacher that everyone is afraid of—standing behind that bar as if this is his own home.

But there is no mistaking the smouldering gaze he is giving you now, the same one that has been quite intimidating that you always avoid seeing him in the break room at school. Except that his gaze no longer causes fear inside you when you return the look in his eyes.

And he just bought you a whole pitcher of cold beer.

— © 2020 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: I will admit this isn't a long chapter but it's certainly a humdinger for sure! Hope you enjoy it! x

Chapter Nine

The attic.

Joel didn’t even know he had an attic.

It had taken him a goddamn hour since Tommy had stormed out to find the hatch door. Even after months the house still felt unfamiliar to him. Finding out there was a whole other part of it hidden away, only reminded him of that fact. He was still a stranger living in a stranger’s home.

It had been inside of his walk-in closet.

A downright stupid place for an attic hatch in Joel’s opinion but with a little effort; he’d just about managed to get the door open, extend the ladder out and fasten the bolts in place in order to get inside. He’d hesitated before climbing up; a quick glare to his still healing leg. But it was coming on stronger than he’d care to admit to himself. No longer really needing the cane anymore and mostly using it out of habit. It seemed that holding onto something when the panic came had been a way to ground himself he supposed. When the stress had become too much or the attempts at remembering had become overwhelming. He left the cane leaning against his bedroom wall and turned back towards the attic ladder; a deep breath let out out as he began to climb.

There wasn’t much up there if he was honest; at least not as much as he had been expecting. Just a couple of boxes left in the corner of the dusty space. Two boxes stacked neatly by one of the wooden beams; evidently pushed out of the way as to not stand out too easily. Joel found this whole thing leaving him even more confused; once again clouding his mind with more questions than answers. The all too familiar headache beginning to creep in along with it.

He kneeled slowly beside the small stack of boxes; pulling the top one way from its pile and gently placing it in front of him. The front caught his eye with scribbled black writing.

“Joel and Ada?” He whispered out loud to the dust and unbroken silence. Ada? What did she have to do with this? The man reluctantly removed the lid and ran his eyes over the contents and his stomach lurched at the sight. Pictures. It was a box full of pictures. All of Joel stood with the very same woman that had walked him home one snowy afternoon.

Except this was much more than friendship. The first framed photograph facing him was a picture of them; smiling together hand in hand in front of the small Jackson chapel... Ada wearing a white patched old dress standing proudly with Joel beside her, a wild flower pinned to his flannel shirt. This was a wedding. His wedding.

But he wasn’t married. That had always been something he was sure of. Sure he’d married Sarah’s mother but that had ended almost as quickly as it had started. They’d been way too young at the time and she’d left long before Sarah had really been able to remember her. He’d put the past behind him and always put his little girl first. It had been them against the world after that. Then he’d lost her; a fact he was still having trouble accepting even now. But it was still something he knew for certain. That part of his life was over. He hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. And he was pretty sure there had been no one in Boston waiting for him either. From what Tommy had told him; their only priority had been to just survive. And yet here... right in front of him were pictures of him and Ada...together.

Some of them with the horses in the town’s barn. One of Ada apparently teaching Joel to cook in his kitchen. Although from the look of the smoke and mess, it clearly hadn’t gone well. There were others of Joel playing guitar with Ada singing beside him, another of the two sat by a mountain landscape watching the sunset by a flickering campfire. He quickly pushed them aside, his hands shaking as he dropped the last picture. He shuffled back onto his knees, twisting to reach the other box. Discarding the lid and once again peering inside the mess of hidden photographs. These pictures were of him and Ellie...out by the waters edge in the forest as the man moved to catch the girl in mid flight as she jumped from an overhanging log.

Standing together as the older man seemed to be introducing her, to what looked like a younger Shimmer in the stables. Family photos of all three of them smiling happily; dinners with Tommy and Maria, Christmases and birthdays. A faded picture of Joel standing outside the Wyoming Museum; his arm around the shoulder of a much younger Ellie wearing what looked like a space helmet; proudly showing off a dinosaur book to the camera. Looking at the girl; Joel had to guess she was maybe fourteen? Fifteen in the picture? He wasn't sure. Rummaging further through the box; he found a drawing of his own face staring back at him. His eyes glanced down at the cursive writing in the bottom corner.

‘To Joel, From Ellie.’

Joel swallowed hard, taking it all in before continuing his search through the box, his fingertips brushing against something cold and hard, he dug deeper and pulled out a poorly crafted mug. The handle was badly shaped and the rim was chipped; it looked like it had been sculpted by a child. It was painted a deeply shaded blue; with sloppy red writing on the side along with what looked like a green dinosaur wearing a hat.

‘Worlds Okayest Dad’ (Just kidding, love ya old man!) It read. Joel laughed quietly in spite of himself. Tommy was right, he did have a family. A wife...a kid.

God...how could he have forgotten he was a dad again? And why had Ellie and Ada not said anything?! They had moved out and left him alone. He felt sick at the realisation. Just what the hell had he done wrong for them to up and abandon him like that?

Why had Ada lied to his face when he had asked about her husband? Had everyone lied to him he wondered. Clearly too much of a burden for his wife to deal with apparently. The more he tried to piece things together; the harder his head hurt. It was like trying to read a book but the pages were blank; only the pictures to try to piece together the story. None of it made sense and it only made him that much more angry. His blood boiling as he threw the boxes across the attic floor, the frames smashing against the wood as they landed heavily in a pile before him. The pity in her eyes had only seemed patronising now; her kind smile was fake and wrong. The way Ellie had shied away from him in the barn all made sense now; the girl clearly ashamed by the pathetic charity case her father now was. Or perhaps Ada had told the teen to stay away from him.

Joel was sick and tired of wondering. He didn’t want pity; he wanted answers. He didn’t remember climbing back down or making his way down the street. His mind a blur; his injured leg aching in protest of clearly being pushed too far. But it only fuelled his anger; a hindrance that would only ever be a reminder of the burden he was now to the family, that had abandoned him when he’d needed them most.

When he found himself at Ada's door; he didn’t hesitate. His clenched fist rapping against the wood while the other screwed up the only photograph he’d taken in a hurry. The shards of glass from the broken frame, digging into the flesh of his palm. But he was too numb to feel it. His heart thumping so loudly, the sound echoed in his ears. It felt like an eternity when Adaline finally answered the door. The woman having the audacity to actually smile at him, his jaw tightened, almost tasting the bitterness that ran through his veins between gritted teeth and venomous tongue.

“Hey.” She greeted softly and Joel felt sick at the sight of her. “Everything okay?” he didn’t know why she was asking; it wasn’t as though she actually cared. Her smile quickly dissipated when she saw the cold look in his eye. The dark shadow that had descended across his features. “Joel…” She uttered cautiously.

“I think you and I need to talk.” He growled. She knew it wasn’t a question.

[missmonsters2]

You Found Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Summary: Part II to Under the Light.  Two years have passed . You think there are somethings you can’t survive, but you find a way. And when you’re forced to face Wanda once more, you learn that time can heal almost anything, but some things don’t change.

Note: This was part of my 500 (or 800) follower celebration a while back. 1/3 fics that I will be writing a part II for with a happy ending. This is about as happy as it gets LOL For any new readers, make sure to read part I: under the light for this to make sense. 

Warnings: implied depression, panic attacks, moving on & therapy.

PART I: Under the Light

Genre: Soft Angst & Romance

Count: 6589

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The end isn't always what you think it is. 

You think after the end, that's it. Roll the credit scene, and fade to black. That's the end of the book; there isn't anything else.

But it's not.

There's always something after the end, and in your case, it's called moving on.

"So?"

You look up, thoughts interrupted.

"I don't know, doc," you sigh, leaning back on the couch.

"Try to explain it," he gently asks, his legs are crossed as he's got his chin in his hand, notebook strewn aside.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to string your thoughts together.

"I guess the hardest parts are the small things I have to remind myself that I don't need to do anymore. Like, earlier this month, there was a new Netflix show that I know she'd love, and I caught myself not watching it because I felt like I should wait for her, but I don't need to anymore," you hope that's enough to convey what you're feeling to your therapist.

"And?" He probes, and you sigh. 

Of course, it wouldn't be enough. You knew better by now.

"And I feel...lost," you shrug.

Your therapist hums.

"Why do you feel lost?" Your therapist questions. "What was it about Wanda that made you feel found?"

Talking about Wanda still feels like there's a painful thudding on your chest.

"I..." You rasp, "Because she was like me. Broken. She saw me for me and loved me anyway. And that all crumbled apart."

"Because she's not broken anymore?"

You nod tiredly.

"So, what is the concept of broken people?" Your therapist asks as he leans back in his chair. "If you can be unbroken, were they broken in the first place? Is being broken a forever issue?"

You're silent because you don't know. 

"Think about it," your therapist says, uncrossing his legs. "I think you should be opening to meeting more people, making more friends, and letting things progress naturally without too many expectations."

You nod, licking your lips, thoughts coming and going from your mind.

"Alright, that's it for our session today. Think about what I said and come see me again in a couple weeks," your therapist closes his notepad, standing up to let you out.

"Alright, thanks, doc," you say with a soft grin that your therapist returns.

"You're doing really well," he compliments you, "much better than when I found you."

You laugh, "You mean a real nutcase."

"Not at all," your therapist smiles, "You came here, lost and alone. Even though you had said you wanted to give up, you found a job before anything else. You have a stubborn fighting spirit, that even when you feel like you're at your end, you keep going. Be a little proud of that."

"Thanks, David." 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Do you ever wonder what the truth is? Is the truth just a matter of circumstance? 

Because the truth is that you had run. You ran from New York and began again in LA. 

You saw the missed calls from Wanda and changed your number. You knew that she could find you, if she wanted, you can't hide from her powers and you can't hide from Tony's money.

But running and changing your numbers told her you didn't want her to come after you. 

But maybe there's a truth to that too.

"Hey, got your usual."

You look up to see the friendly coffee shop owner across from your building.

"Have I become that predictable, Lucy?" you reply with a friendly smile.

Lucy hands you your drink, laughing lightly as she does. She throws in a free muffin.

"Maybe you're just my favorite customer," she grins.

You quirk your brow at her. Lucy is undoubtedly pretty, with her blonde hair and green eyes. She's funny, and she's easy-going.

"Are you flirting with me over baked goods?" 

"Is there any other way?" Lucy tilts her head.

You smile at her, and she returns it.

"Can I have your number?" She asks bluntly, and you find yourself pausing for a moment.

It's small things like this that you find catching yourself at.

The quick second where you almost automatically say no because your body is so used to having Wanda. 

The next quick second, where it feels like you're cheating even if she's not with you anymore.

It's a constant reminder you have to learn to live your own life.

You grab an extra coffee sleeve on the side and the pen, scribbling your number down.

You give Lucy a small smile before you wave off and set off to get to work.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hey, where's the fire today?" You ask your coworker as you see the office bustling around more than usual.

"We have a new client. She wants a marketing plan for her company. It's brand new, but she's bringing loads of money. Harris is sucking ass hard to keep her happy," your coworker gossips with you and you hum.

You're not really too concerned about it. After all, you're still relatively new to the company, only having worked for a year and a half. 

You were just a novice marketing designer. You worked on small jobs, fixing up other people's work, creating a few things here and there. Your boss was just starting to give you more responsibilities and really liked the ideas you were bringing.

"She sounds like a pain in the ass," you say. You've met big clients before. Most of them were demanding and a little on the rude side, but you couldn't really do much about it when you're just a novice designer. 

"Oh, we're passing by the meeting room, let's see what's going on," your worker huddles a little closer to you as the conference room comes up. As you pass by the glass walls, your breath stops.

It's been 2 years, but you could never forget her face.

She looks the same, a little more mature maybe. She's dyed her hair blonde, and no longer has the split hair part, but now to the side.

An array of emotions flicker through you, but it's the single, loud thought that draws her attention to you.

'Fuck.'

Her head whips over to you, shock registering on her face, and at least you know this wasn't a planned attack.

"Oh, she's hot," your coworker whispers to you, and the only response you have to that is swallowing.

"I gotta go," you mutter, speeding past the room and leaving your coworker alone. 

You don't even know where to go, but all you know is that you can't be in the same building as Wanda, let alone a room. Bolting out of the building, you walk and walk until you find yourself back at the café. 

You sigh, entering the shop.

"Hey," Lucy greets you, surprise on her face that you're back so soon.

You try to give her a smile, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace. 

And when Lucy cocks her brow at you, you sigh.

"Sorry," you breathe, "I got ambushed at work. I need somewhere to hide, and I don't know, I ended up here."

Lucy merely nods as you take a seat at one of the tables, setting your bookbag down. You've got your head in your hands as you're trying to control your breathing.

A cup of coffee being set down brings you out of your momentary panic. You look up to see Lucy taking a seat diagonally from you. 

"On the house for my favorite panicky customer," she lightly teases you, smiling when she gets you to chuckle. 

"Thanks," you say, taking a sip of the drink. 

You can tell it's decaf, and you smile at her being considerate. 

"So," Lucy slowly speaks, "want to share what's gotten you so shaken that you ran back to my coffee shop before I even had a chance to give you a call?"

You bite your lip.

"I..." You start.

"My ex showed up at my firm. She's a customer. An important one at that, it seems."

It's probably not a good start to talk about your ex, one that clearly so affects you still, to someone you just gave your number to in the prospect of going on a date. 

Lucy hums. 

"It didn't end well?" She surmises, and you shakily nodded. 

"Are you still in love with her?" Lucy asks.

You don't answer right away, but it's enough for Lucy to have an answer. 

You don't look at her because it's obvious this was crashing and burning too.

"I..." Lucy licks her lips, "would like to take you on a date."

Your head snaps at to look at her like she's grown three heads.

"What?" You sputter. "Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage clearly."

Lucy shrugs.

"Who doesn't have baggage?"

Your expression shows her that you're unsure because this doesn't exactly spell out it's going to end well, not that it wouldn't either.

"Look," Lucy puts her hand atop of yours, "I'm well aware you're probably still in love with your ex. Whatever it was, it must've been intense. I know full well what I would be getting myself into if I take you on a date. But I think you deserve to go out with someone and see there's more out there."

You stare at her hand on top of yours, blinking. 

"Just think about it," Lucy pats your hand as the door rings, indicating another customer has come in. "You're welcomed to stay to hide, and you know where to find me."

Lucy leaves you in your thoughts. You do take her up on her offer to stay because there's no way to go out back to the office. You e-mail your boss you'll be working elsewhere for the day, but he doesn't care as long as you turn in your drafts. 

At the end of your shift, you get up, giving Lucy a half-shy, half-awkward wave and leave.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You leisurely take your time walking home to be able to process your thoughts. 

You feel a little calmer than you did when you first bumped into Wanda this morning, but now you had more on your plate with Wanda and deciding if you wanted to go on a date with Lucy. 

Although time has passed, you were only really beginning to heal yourself.  You weren't really sure if you were in the right headspace for dating. 

It felt much more serious now that Lucy knew you had some baggage, and still wanted to go on a date. It didn't feel casual anymore.

You were beginning to walk up to your duplex when you spotted someone sitting on your steps. 

"What are you doing here?" You bite out.

There she was, Wanda, sitting on your steps with her head in her hands. She snapped up, hearing your voice. 

A wide variety of emotions passed her face. 

"You're here," she breathed, and you find yourself recoiling with the thick emotion in her voice as she spoke. 

Wanda stands up, going down the steps before she's standing in front of you.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon invades your nose, and a whole new wave of anxiety passes you with the familiarity of it.

Your heart starts thudding in your chest, and you're breathing heavily. Something on your face tells Wanda you're about to have a panic attack. She starts to come closer, wanting to wrap her arms around you, but she pauses.

Wanda knows that she's the cause of this right now, so she backs up and gives you some space with her hands up non-threateningly. 

"Hey," she softly speaks, "it's okay. I won't invade your space."

You close your eyes as you try to focus.

"That's it," Wanda tries to guide you, "breathe in. Hold it...that's good, okay, exhale slowly."

This repeats for minutes until you've calmed down. 

"I'm sorry," Wanda says slowly, "I would've called first, but I didn't know your number."

"That didn't stop you from showing up at my place," you mutter. 

Wanda bites her lip, but nods. 

"What do you want?" You ask her.

"Can we go inside? It's not safe about it to talk outside," Wanda nods her head towards your door.

You frown, not really wanting to let her in, but you sigh and nod. 

You pass by her, careful to not breathe in her scent as you open the door and let her in. 

You barely acknowledge her as you drop your things on the kitchen table and start to heat your kettle for hot water. 

Wanda walks in slowly, taking in your place. 

She notices that it both feels homey and empty.

You've clearly taken care of your place, getting a nice couch, and the effort of getting pillows and throw blankets for it. There's art on the wall, but there are no personal photos anywhere. 

It was like a show home. 

You watch Wanda stare at your things as you lean against the wall. 

"Why are you here?" You ask, breaking Wanda's thoughts as she looks over to you.

She purses her lips, let out a deep sigh.

"I'm on a mission. I didn't realize you were working there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm investigating your boss."

"My boss," you repeat slowly, and Wanda nods. 

"I can't go into many details, but I'm undercover right now."

You grumble. Of course, the firm you pick to build your career has a shady boss running it.

"Fine," you huff, "I won't get in your way. Anything else?"

Wanda's eyes soften as she looks at you.

"How are you? You look good," she sincerely says to you, and you give her a blank expression. 

There's a tumulus feeling rumbling underneath you. You want to scream at her because why is she asking? It's none of her business. 

Wanda sighs again when you don't answer her. "I sincerely didn't know you worked at the firm. If I had known you worked there, I would've asked someone else to take this mission."

There's a bit of a sting to her words because as much as you didn't want to see her, it sounds like she didn't want to see you either. 

"Well," you huff, "no worries about me. I won't get in your way. Do what you have to do."

Perhaps because there's a bite to your words, a tone of sarcasm as you walk back into the kitchen, Wanda follows you.

"Hey," she calls, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You immediately pull your arm away, and Wanda lets go, an apologetic look on her face.

"I didn't mean it like that," Wanda explains.

It's silent, and you don't say anything, not making another move even though your kettle as turned off, signaling the hot water was done.

"I wanted to chase you," Wanda says. 

The words hang in the air, and you're not sure what to do with that. You just let the words sting.

"I wanted to follow you immediately the day you left. You ran so fast. One moment you were breaking up with me, and then the next day, you bought a plane ticket and left," Wanda ran her fingers through her hair. 

"I harassed Tony into finding out where you had gone. I bought a plane ticket, ready to go after you," Wanda stopped talking.

You were clenching and unclenching your jaw. 

"But Natasha said I shouldn't," Wanda finally says, and you're ready to explode at her, barely able to just keep it in.

"She said that you were hurting, I was causing your hurting," Wanda frowned. "Natasha said you needed to heal, and where we both were, I would only hinder your progress. You needed a change of scenery without me."

You don't know what to say to that.

Because it's true. 

With more time that passes, it's easier for you to admit that you being with her at the time was making things worse for you.

She wasn't in a good place when you had met her and got together. But Wanda was healing before you, and you weren't ready for that.

You relied on her too much, put Wanda on a pedestal, kept putting her before yourself. 

You were probably hindering Wanda's healing too. 

It was too hard for you to see her with Vision, even if it might've been nothing. 

"I respected your space, and I didn't check up on you," Wanda tells you, taking a cautionary step closer. "But that never changed the fact that I'm still in love with you. I'm still waiting for the right time for us to get back together."

You recoil slightly as she gets closer. You're not ready for this. You can feel every muscle in your body screaming to run. 

"Why?" You hoarsely ask, tears welling in your eyes.

"When you left, you said I had outgrown you," Wanda says, and you feel a slice across your heart at the bitter memory.

"But that's not true," Wanda shakes her head, "I had loved you when we first met, loved you when we were in the dark, and I will love you as we keep moving. It doesn't matter if we don't move at the same pace. I will love you."

They're pretty words, you feel. Because all you can remember is how she had said none of this as you were leaving. 

All you can remember is how she turned to Vision.

You don't have anything to say except you turn to bolt for the door, leaving Wanda in your place. 

You hear a call of your name, but you keep running, thankful that she doesn't follow you. 

You pull out your phone and dial.

"Hello?"

"I know it's after hours, but can you please see me right now?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You staring a picture above the fireplace.

"Did you want anything to drink?"

You turn your attention away from the photo, looking at David.

"Water, please," you quietly ask. 

"Sure thing," David grins as he yells down the hall for water, making you wince.

His husband, Liam, shows up looking unimpressed with David as he shoots you a wink before leaving.

You're in David's study room as he hands you the water and gestures for you to take a seat.

"Sorry for showing up like this," you apologize.

David waves it off. "It's fine. You came at a good time. Liam was kicking my ass in scrabble, he was getting too smug."

You smile lightly. It's been a while since you had seen Liam. When you had first arrived, you saw David pretty regularly and sometimes even ate dinner at their place while you were still trying to get yourself together.

"So?" David settles into his seat with his hands, clasped together. "What's got you rattled?"

"Wanda showed up."

It's quiet for a moment as David assesses what you said.

He hums.

"Why did she show up?"

"She's a client at my firm. An important one and she can't choose another firm. She didn't know I was working there," you explain as best you can since you can't tell David she's undercover. 

David nods. 

"And what happened?"

"I ran," you tell him. "I hid in a coffee shop I go to every day, where the owner asked me out on a date, knowing full well I'm not over Wanda. Then I went home, and Wanda was there waiting for me."

You speak so fast that David widens his eyes minusculely.

He doesn't say anything, so you assume you need to keep talking about what happened.

"I had a panic attack when I smelled her scent," you mutter, "I let her into my place, and she explained why she had shown up. I know she wasn't trying to ambush me."

"Alright, it sounds pretty standard. Did she leave after?"

You explain the rest of what happened to David, who seems to be taking in what happened as he sits in silence for a bit.

He hums. 

"What did you think about what she said?" He asks.

"Lies," you immediately say. "Or at least partially lies."

"Why is that?"

You sigh a little frustratedly as you lean forward in your chair. "Why didn't she say those things as we were breaking up? I told her to admit it, she had outgrown me, and she didn't say anything. Saying nothing might as well have been agreeing. Now she's here saying that she would always love me?"

"And what if it was true? That you two had outgrown each other?"

"Then there's no point," you say, "even if we land in the right place, we could always outgrow each other again."

David hums again, and you hate it when he does that.

"Just say what you're thinking," you grumble, and he smiles. 

"In my professional opinion, it's true that it can happen again. But here's the thing, love is not just a feeling. It takes work and effort. You have to choose that every day. Two years have passed, the two of you are different people. Back then, you were choosing to not move forward; Wanda was. That's where your insecurities had stemmed from when she was getting closer to Vision. Space apart might have been the best thing for you to not rely on and hinder each other. But now, you're here. Healing. Choosing."

"So, I should get back together with her?" Your brows furrow.

David laughs lightly, "No, I didn't say that. That's something you will need to decide on your own. I'm just here to help you rationalize your feelings and thoughts, suggest you do things that may help. That's why I think you should accept the date with Lucy."

"What?"

David rests his elbow on his armrest, rubbing his index finger and thumb together.

"Lucy was very clear she understood what she was getting into if you choose to go on a date with her. Seems like she's offering to show you a good time without any strings attached. You might not come across an opportunity like that again," David points out.

"If it leads to something more and you want that, you have your answer," David smiles.

You sigh shakily and nod sharply.

The end of the session comes, and David leans forward.

"Just remember, you're different than who you were two years ago. Wanda coming back doesn't change that. She's different than who she was two years ago. You don't need to idealize her. She's just another person too."

You shakily nod your head, thanking David for squeezing you in so suddenly, and say bye to Liam on your way out.

When you head home, Wanda is no longer there, but there's an address written on your notepad on the counter.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next few weeks pass by with a blur. Work gets so busy, you hardly have time to think about anything.

Not that it stops you from thinking about things, but it's easier. 

You see Wanda in the building occasionally, but other than a nod of acknowledgment, she doesn't speak to you. You're sure it's because you ran out the last time, and she's trying to respect your space again. 

Though, sometimes you find yourself staring at Wanda from afar. You think about what David says and how you're both different people. She does seem different.

She walks with this air of confidence that she didn't have before. She smiles more, and she doesn't look as angry and resentful as she once did. 

You find yourself self-reflecting on yourself when that happens. You can admit that you've come a long way, but you aren't quite sure you'd categorize yourself in the same place as Wanda, but you are moving forward. 

That night, you show up at the coffee shop, surprising Lucy as you come in.

You haven't seen her in weeks, you even stopped coming for morning coffees.

"And she lives," Lucy says amusedly, but you feel a little guilty for avoiding her.

You breathe, gathering your courage as you look at her.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Lucy tilts her head, staring at you momentarily before she smiles, and you think she has a beautiful one. 

"I'm actually just closing up, so if you'd like to wait, we can go to this nice little ice cream shop a couple blocks from here."

You nod eagerly, happy that you hadn't botched this up. 

You two make small talk as she cleans up, catching each other up on the week. 

The walk passes quickly, and you learn things about Lucy like how she had gotten her degree in literature and was a part-time writer working on a novel. The coffee shop was her parents, but they had passed it down to her when they had retired. She's thinking about it passing it down to her little sister when her sister is old enough. 

You stare at the ice cream menu for almost 20 minutes, unsure what you want to order, but Lucy is patient and talks about her recommendations. You apologize, but she waves it off.

You end up choosing what she recommends, and you like it, but you're not surprised since Lucy seems to understand your coffee order.

The date is simple.

It's easy, you find.

Talking to Lucy is easy, and she's definitely a beautiful woman. 

Even when Lucy slowly reaches for your hand to hold, with a half-shy smile, half-smirk, you let her.

You hear your name.

You turn around to see Wanda standing there, frowning as her eyes pass over your held hand.

"Wanda," you breathe.

The way you say her name, Lucy immediately knows. 

But then you're holding Lucy's hand tighter. 

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, trying to play it off casually. 

"I'm..." you start to say, but the words die on your lips.

"We're on a date," Lucy answers instead, brow raised.

"Date?" Wanda says, looking at you, and you swallow.

That feeling like you're cheating on her comes, but you squash it down because you know you're not.

"Yes," you say firmly. "I'm on a date. I'll see you at work."

With that, you turn, Lucy in hand as you drag her off. 

When you're finally far enough, you sigh. 

"Sorry," you mumble, feeling awkward.

Lucy shrugs. "You handled it better than I thought you would. I thought you had swallowed your tongue for a moment."

You let out a rough chuckle as you keep walking. The two of you sit on a park bench, enjoying the weather, the ice cream, and each other. 

"You're still very much in love with her, not even close to being over her."

Lucy speaks after a moment of silence when the conversation had died. 

You look at her, surprised she would bring it up again. She didn't even say it as a posed question. She stated as a fact.

You sigh, "yeah."

"But, you want to move on?" Lucy asks.

You struggle. 

"I don't know," you answer finally.

Lucy reaches over to hold your hand again, and you look down. 

"Does this feel good?" She asks.

You lick your lips as you stare at your intertwined hands. 

"It feels easy," you admit. 

Lucy tilts her head but sighs as she pulls her hand away.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nod, unsure.

Lucy looks ahead of her. "I don't think love should be easy. Sure, that would make everything simple. I don't think love should be a constant battle either, but I think we both should get a love that's worth fighting for."

You swallow, looking away. 

Because you agree.

It's so easy with Lucy. You know that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with her. It would be easy, and you know there's a simple path ahead of you. You'd know what the next steps would be every time.

With Wanda, it's always hard. It's true, you're not always fighting her, but being with her is not a simple feat. 

But you don't know if you want that. 

Lucy turns you and kisses you on the cheek swiftly. 

"Maybe it's not with me, maybe it is. Maybe it's with your ex, maybe it's not, but there's a great love out there. For both of us. I hope I succeeded in showing you a good time."

You smile at her and nod.

"Thanks," you tell her softly, and although she's not yours, you feel like you're losing her a little. You're losing out on something wonderful, you just know it. 

You can't help but blame Wanda a little for that. 

"I expect to see you Monday morning for the best coffee ever," Lucy says she stands up, "and a big fat tip."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile at her as she waves at you before leaving. 

You stay on the park bench much longer after Lucy left, sighing. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When work comes around Monday, you do as you promised and get coffee at Lucy's, staying the extra minute to chat before you're on your way.

Work is relatively quiet today, Wanda seems tense, and midway through the day, your boss is getting arrested in front of everyone. The executives are taken in custody for questioning, and it will be decided later on who will take over the company.

Everyone is allowed to leave for the day with that, but you decide to stay at the office longer to get work done because you get distracted too easily at home.

It's nearly 2PM when Wanda appears in front of you. 

"Hey," she says softly, and you greet her back with a soft grunt in return.

You close your laptop, wanting to take a break as you look at Wanda.

"Looks like you're done your mission. Lucky you, you get to return."

"I'm staying in the area for a little while longer while things are getting wrapped up," Wanda shakes her head.

You merely nod. 

But at least you know she won't be showing up at her workplace anymore.  You get up, going to the copier room to make some copies of your report for next week.

Wanda follows you, standing at the door and leaning against it slightly with her arm.

"Are you dating her?" She asks bluntly.

And you pause for a moment before you continue with what you're doing.

"It's none of your business," you tell her.

"If you were over me, you would just answer," Wanda answers back, and you snap your head towards her and glare. 

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" You grit.

Wanda shakes her head.

"I just want you to tell me if you're dating her," she stands up straighter.

"Why do you even care?" You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Of course I care, I'm in love with you," Wanda says it so easily that it pisses you off.

You accidentally crumble the papers in your hand as you turn to her.

"Wanda," you say very slowly, trying to rein in your temper. "This is already difficult enough for me. You coming back here, even if it's was unintentional, makes this hard for me. I'm a long way from where I was but seeing you just a reminder of how broken I was. How broken we were, and how easy it was for you to move on."

"You don't think this is hard for me too?" Wanda hisses at you as she takes a step closer. 

"You don't think me losing the love of my life because of my inability to say the right things at the right time doesn't keep me up at night? I'm a long way from where I was too. I was just as lost as you were. You thought I had moved on, outgrown you, but I was just lost. You can't lie to me and say you weren't frustrated how you felt every day."

"But I didn't turn to anyone else when I felt that way!" You shout at her.

"Vision means nothing to me!" Wanda shouts back at you, throwing her hands in the air. "We just have a commonality between us, which is the stone. I was just learning about the stone."

Wanda conjures up red wisps between her fingers as if to emphasize her point. 

And even though you had known that might've been the case, it hadn't hurt any less.

"You can't deny that we're bad for each other," you shake your head. 

"I love you," Wanda throws out, and it makes you tense. "I know you're still in love with me too."

"You don't know that," you breathe. 

But Wanda walks up closer to you, she gets up in your personal space, her face hovering over yours.

"Then why do you get so affected by seeing me? Your thoughts are a mess, and why do your lips tremble when you breathe my name?"

You glare at her. 

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. You think I can't kiss other people? That I can't move on from you? Love outside of you exists." 

"With Lucy?" Wanda sneers her name. You don't even have to ask that Wanda got her name through reading your mind. 

"Why not her?" You challenge.

Wanda stands there, staring at you, her pupils dilating and contracting as she takes you in.

"Then, let's see you if you can run back to her after this."

And before you can say anything, Wanda's thrusting her hands against your jaw into your hair, gripping it familiarly as she slams into your lips with unadulterated passion. 

She moves her lips against yours, tilting your head as she backs you against the photocopier. 

It hits you so fast and so hard.

The feel of her lips.

Her scent invading your senses. 

She tastes like honey and chocolates, and you know she's been eating candy. 

She runs her hand through your hair. Her hand eventually reaches the back of your neck, and she holds it to keep you close to her. 

It takes the sound of her soft sigh to bring you back to reality, and you push her off you.

You furrow your brows, chest heaving from her kiss.

You look at her, and she's staring at you equally as breathless.

"You're such a fucking asshole," you tell her, shaking your head as you push past her. 

You're pissed.

How dare Wanda just...just kiss you like that!

She has no boundaries, no sense of what you're feeling. 

You gather your things, glaring at Wanda to not follow you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda sighs.

She fucked up.

She knows she did.

Wanda makes herself some tea at the place she's posted to until she can go home. It was pretty close to the firm for obvious reasons.

She shouldn't have kissed you like that, but it was like this ugly green monster, and the fear of losing you when she saw you with Lucy overwhelmed her.

Wanda had understood what Natasha had told her. She had understood, and let you go on the hopes that the two of you would both grow and be in a better place. 

It wasn't easy for Wanda, she felt like this giant hole was created in her when you left. 

She wasn't a good girlfriend, and she had to work through that. 

Maybe it was premature, but seeing you brought up all the feelings she never left behind. 

Wanda looks outside, noticing the day had passed by quickly, and now it was dark out. She looks at the clock and sighs when it's already 11 PM, but Wanda is feeling no closer to being able to sleep. 

Wanda knew she was going to need to apologize, that was if you were even willing to talk to her. 

She wouldn't be surprised if you decided to quit the firm and moved. 

Wanda sighs, rubbing her forehead and temples with her hands. 

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Wanda turns her head to the door, brow furrowing. The knocking continues until Wanda walks up to open the door.

You push past her and walk into her home.

"You know I had a lot of time to this about this, but what the fuck is wrong you?" You immediately fire off, pacing back and forth.

"You think you can just drop back into my life, even if you didn't mean to, tell me you're still in love with me and kiss me?"

You turn around and glare at her. "Is it crack? Is that what you're smoking? Because who the fuck does that!"

"You had no right to do that, you're such an inconsiderate asshole!"

Wanda frowns, taking the yelling. Your chest is heaving with anger.

"Are you done?" She asks, and you nearly start screaming at her again.

"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Wanda raises her brow.

It's quiet for a moment as you stare at Wanda. 

"No," you finally after a moment. "I came to do this."

And suddenly, you're running towards her, jumping as you wrap your legs around her midsection as she's forced to hold you up, slamming your lips down on her. 

You kiss her wildly, and Wanda response immediately. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her over and over as you tangle your hand in her hair.

Moans are heard, and Wanda is walking, nearly stumbling as she both holds you up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

She throws you on the mattress.

Chest heaving, but from kissing is a much better image Wanda likes. You sit up, grabbing her hand as you remove her rings and toss them aside, making haste to unbutton her shirt.

And Wanda pulls your shirt over your head.

Her body presses yours down to the bed, hands aligning as she intertwines them.

It feels right.

Wanda is going to make sure she loves you with all her might.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's late into the night, and twilight will come soon. You lie there, breath coming to a steady rhythm as Wanda covers your bare chest with the blanket.

She kisses your shoulder, and you sigh in small contentment.

Under the blanket, you seek her hand out, holding it.

"I'm in love with you still," you confess and Wanda smiles.

"I know."

"But I'm also scared," you tell her, "I'm not really sure if I'm ready for more right now."

"Love is patient," Wanda answers, squeezing your hand.

"How do you know it's the right time for us?" You ask her.

Wanda shifts in the bed, throwing her other hand behind her head.

"I suspect there's no such thing as the right time," she admits, "but I do believe we're both in a better place. The feelings never left. We're both choosing to fight for our own life, choosing to fight for us."

"I don't know if broken people should get second chances," you admit. It's been a ride in therapy, but these thoughts still come.

Wanda turns to you, raising herself onto her elbow.

"Broken people get to heal," she insists firmly. "We're not always broken, and I won't lie and say there won't be cracks, but I love you no matter what. You love me, no matter what. Our cracks are a beautiful reminder that we're fighters. No matter what is revealed when we're under the light, I will fight for you. For me. For us."

You find yourself crying, and Wanda dips down to kiss you tenderly.

"Under the light, you found me."

[qianoir]

After Midnight 2 - Rhiannon

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college dropout!Ten (WayV) x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, angst with fluff on top

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 13+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (censored), lying, family problems, mentions death of reader's father, romance, this part determines the reader’s age but feel free to ignore

♡ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @staysstrays

Preview < 1 < 2

𝟏𝟎:𝟎𝟎 𝐀𝐌

Should I call him? No! What if it wasn't meant for me? Idiot, there was no one else in the café of course it was meant for you! What if it's a prank? It's probably the number to a McDonald’s or something. And if it's not..? What if he never comes into the café again?

You woke up in a freezing cold room with an acquainted boy named "Ten Lee" on your mind, contemplatively staring into his napkin before finally deciding to text him.

You typed the 11 digits into your phone.

Ok... now what do I say?

Hi Ten, this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Hi Ten, this is Y|

|

Why do I even care about this so much? It's just a text and for all I know this kid could be some kind of siren-vampire trying to seduce me with song lyrics at nighttime.. is that even possible?

Hi Mr. Lee this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Why so formal? Oh God I sent it..

It’s done.

You grabbed a towel and prepared a quick shower before continuing the rest of the morning. Intruding thoughts about Mr. Lee fill your mind under the water.. like.. why does he only visit the café at night? Your prior superstitious suspicions about him being a vampire fall back in mind.

At least if I get to be a vampire I can live this timeline as a doctor and make my mom happy, then be a dancer for eternity.

As much as you did not know about Ten, you still knew quite a bit about him. His favorite combination at the café is an iced Americano with pandan cake, his favorite color is black— you assume since it's the only color his outfits consist of, and he has a younger sister, which you found out after hearing him say 妹妹 over the phone one night.

The loud text notification sounds throughout the bathroom and you nearly slip trying to quickly finish your shower to check the new message.

Mom (Work)

My daughter! Your grandmother is sick, I am going to Incheon to bring her medicine and groceries so I need you to open the café today. I should be back to take over at 2 o’clock. Be careful on your own!

Unwrapping your body of your towel to dress into a nice outfit, you sighed knowing your Saturday would be another day spent on your sore feet. The café opens at 11 AM so you would only be working an extra few hours, but you hoped your mom would let you take a slice of delicacy home for the filial overtime.

“Aya!”

Another loud notification tone beamed from your phone, forcing your name brooch to prick at your fingertip. The screen luminated with an unknown number.

Contact Not Found

hihi Y/N! no need to be so formal with me! I'm only from ‘96 :)

Contact ‘TEN’ Added

TEN

are you free today? I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee and ice cream, if you're not sick of the smell yet ;p

You frowned remembering the plans your mother made for your day.

Y/N

I'm so sorry Ten my mom wants me to work opening for the café today :(

Figuring that was your ending, you packed a bag full of necessities for the day and walked to Décalcomanie.

TEN

why don't I come over there? the café serves bingsoo this time of year right? it’s barely the afternoon, not many people will be dining. we could still hang out if you’re down?

Butterflies soared in your stomach just like they do every night at 11:59 PM.

Y/N

Yeah that sounds perfect :)

TEN

okk see you soon!

Eek!

It felt so weird to think of seeing him in the daytime, especially after just mentally accusing him of being a bloodsucker.

Upon your entrance, the café was soon bright with morning light and you patiently awaited Ten’s arrival. Nearly an hour had gone by and there was no sign of him. You didn't think he would flake out, but you barely know each other so why wouldn't he?

Ten was right; it was pretty empty here this morning. You bent forward to hand one of the regular old women her tea in the Décalcomanie’s prettiest teacup upon your mother’s request of the best service for all of her regular customers.

The bell chimed with an open door. Your eyes blinked to the woman's upturned phone by her saucer.

𝟏𝟏:𝟓𝟗 𝐀𝐌

Could it be? You laughed at the irony in the thought, but when you looked up from the woman’s table, a rice cake cheeked boy stood across from you.

"I'm here!" He announced to the entire floor.

You bowed a greeting like you do for every customer and ushered him to the bar, "Sit down over here." where he sat in front of your standing form. "What type of bingsoo have you come in for, sir?" You teased.

"Coconut with vanilla ice cream! And.. two spoons?"

You blushed at the thought of sharing subtle intimacy with the fine young man before your eyes. You had only just met him, but you saw no harm in sharing a dessert with him as you would do with friends.. if you had them.

Nodding and running off to make the icy dessert, you heard the ripple of a writing pen. From the corner of your eye, peeked Ten orchestrating an English poem onto a stray napkin, his brown bangs falling on the bridge of his nose. These little actions made your heart jump; his passion for various styles of music felt so endearing to you.

You paid for the grandiose bowl of sugar and presented it to Ten. His phone lit up with a notification and you took notice of his wallpaper: Him with a disgusted looking boy that he was French kissing on the cheek. I'm not judging but.. whomst?

"Who's that?" You asked, handing him a spoon, taking another for yourself.

He glanced at his phone and blushed, breaking out in quiet giggles.

"That's my friend, Yangyang. We really enjoy our time together."

You hummed and smiled. They seem to have a good friendship, but you were still curious to know more about this Yangyang guy.

"So you attend university?" Ten asked before shoveling a high spoon of ice flakes into his mouth.

"I'm a sophomore at SNU." You replied, mirroring his bold eating style.

Ten spoke with surprised eyes, "Really!? That's a fancy school. Wow～ you must be really smart."

"Not really.. I'm studying dance. All I do is move my feet."

"I'm a dancer, too! It's a really hard and beautiful art, you shouldn't sell yourself short for being a part of it." He genuinely advised.

You looked down after thanking him for his kind words, suddenly feeling very bashful. "How old are you, by the way? You calling me Mr. Lee this morning is all I've been thinking about." You both laughed.

"I'm 20, turning 21 this year.” He nodded. "You're from ‘00? Yangyang is the same age as you!"  He exclaims.

"I’ve never met someone my age! How many friends do you have?"

"I have a few, but I’m closest to a specific six and we all live together."

"It must be nice to have so many friends. It’s been a little difficult for me to make friends this semester.." You stirred some melted ice cream around your side of the bowl, suddenly feeling very lonely in Ten’s personal presence.

"You should come over sometime! We love new friends!" He was pleading with his eyes for you to agree.

"Oh.. I don't want to intrude-" "No really! We would love to have your company. Here..." He flipped over the napkin he was previously writing on and scribbled a short address on it, sliding it over to you.

"You should come by tomorrow evening. 5 o'clock if it works for you." Ten says before finishing off the last bit of flavored dairy in the bowl.

You scanned over the inked napkin in your hand.

97 Saemunanro, Sinmunno 1 il-ga, Jongnogu, Seoul

"It's apartment number 117. Just call me when you get there because we may not be able to hear your knocks over the screaming." You looked at him in slight concern, but he only smiled in return.

Ten took out his card to pay for the bingsoo, but you stopped him. "Oh I already paid for the both of us!"

"Aww you didn't have to," Ten frowned, but handed me $20 anyways, "Here take this at least. A tip for my favorite barista." He winked and ran out of the café before you could protest.

"REMEMBER 5 O'CLOCK!"

Ten shouted, bumping into a man, who cursed at him, profusely bowing on the way out. You shook your head at his silliness and flipped the napkin over to a pretty poem.

She is like a cat in the dark and then

she is the darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark

and when the sky is starless

To Be Continued…

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[kojinnie]

Maybe, One Day, We Will | Jean, Sasha & Connie

Summary: Before the defining Raid of Liberio mission, the Survey Corps was instructed to write their wills, and Connie reminisced the night he talked about life after the war with Jean and Sasha when they were younger.

Tags: Canon universe, coming-of-age, light angst, bittersweet.

Set: The night before Battle of Shiganshina District, parallel to Eren-Mikasa-Armin’s talk on the steps.

WC: 3.1K

A/N:  My tribute to the trio that holds a special place in my heart. Consider this my ode to all of us whose heart has been broken by Chapter 138. A slight nod to conversation in Chapter 137 (No spoiler, don’t worry!)

I suppose memory wore off eventually, and if I’d be lucky enough to survive this contemptible war, my only hope is one thing: to never lose the gift of memory over moments I hold dear in my heart. Especially the memory of that one night. The night before Shiganshina.

Connie Springer put down his quill as he marked the end of a sentence. He was quite surprised with how far bolder was this paragraph compared to its precedents, he smiled and remembered one of the things his mum said when he was younger, something about how one’s action is nothing but a mere reflection of one’s feeling, and perhaps Connie took the importance of that paragraph over the others and that’s why he put so much pressure on his quill upon writing that down.

He looked over his shoulder to catch Jean pondering over his paper across the room, looking visibly puzzled on what to write, “Oi Jean, you finished?”

He shook his head, grunting, “This feels so absurd.” The tall man leaned to his desk and dragged his gaze upwards, “To be so young and writing your own will.”

Connie hummed from his desk, affirming Jean’s dismay. The whole predicament the two men find themselves in were indeed absurd, albeit predictable. They both knew that to be immersed in the eyes of war mean bruising with deaths countless times, but with the war advancing at unprecedented rate, the notion of mortality grew even more palpable before the soldiers’ eyes. It was no surprise that at one night after a debriefing with the high-ranking officials, Hange finally caught up with the prospect of dying. The first time they had ever been so sure of death, regardless whether it would be immediate or later in this godforsaken war. The thought led Hange to saying before the rest of the Survey Corps, “Maybe we all should write our wills. To leave something behind, you know? Just in case.” Everyone remembered how the Commander threw a reassuring smile amidst such vivid qualm among them, “What could be more fulfilling than to have our stories and legacy passed down?”

And so there they were that night, all of the Survey Corps, taking their night off to write their will before the D-Day tomorrow: The Ambush of Liberio.

“Jean,” Connie called again. There was only the two of them in the common room, the rest were scattered all over Mitras. Taking their own space to write their own piece of mind before the mission, “do you remember the night before Shiganshina?”

The sounds of scribbling ceased immediately from Jean’s end, as he sighed, almost painfully, “Yeah, of course.” Jean found it eerie that there was a misplaced lightness in Connie’s voice, when his own was drowned in unspoken distress, “What about it?”

“I’m writing about it on my…” there was a hesitation in Connie’s words as his mind finally caught up with how unbecoming his reality was, “…will.”

The man of Ragako continued, “I hope after we’re gone, whoever reads this would know that we were once kids,” Connie’s voice dropped into a heavy murmur, “that had something to live for, yeah?”

Jean nodded his head as he forced a smile, although Connie wouldn’t be able to see as they were sitting opposite each other, “Sounds great. Something to prove that I’m not a suicidal maniac. Do you think Sasha is now writing about it too?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then I’ll write about it too.”

             The noise from the dining hall finally subsided after the soldiers headed back to their quarter. Despite having tonight’s tasty feast and the raucous fun that most of these soldiers were not as privileged to have often, the lingering dread remained visible among them for what awaited them tomorrow. These men and women were to head for battle against creatures they barely understood, and to reclaimed the district that most thought to be unsalvageable with the horde of titans roaming freely within.

There were also murmurs about a menacingly gigantic beast titan, one that had took the handful lives of their comrades. One that had mystical power to summon and control titans all it pleased. One that was so frightening that the brass in the likes of Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman were not at ease to disclose to the rest of the soldiers, leaving them in the dark of what may happen. The murmurs about the beast titan were persistent and these soldiers, no matter how hardened had they grown by deaths and battles all their lives, were all equally afraid.

Among them were three teenagers, barely made it out alive after their last encounter with the seemingly mythical creature. Now bound for yet another mission, they scrambled out of the dining hall. The tallest among them was slightly limping, leaning for support from the two others.

“Guys—” Jean grunted, followed by a disgraceful whimper as another step sent a sharp sting to his stomach, “—thanks for the help but would appreciate if it came sooner.”

They stopped and finally sat around when they found a comfortable spot underneath a building’s canopy, looking over to the city steps that glimmered underneath the full moon’s lights. From afar, they could see Eren, Mikasa and Armin sitting together down the steps, although the Shiganshina trio weren’t aware of their presence.

Jean finally let out an audible groan as he sat on a deserted wooden crate, the two others found comfort on the cold cobblestone.

“As you know, I was in no position to do so.” Sasha shot a jeer at Connie, to which he replied with a remorseful grin, “Sorry Sash, you were acting crazy—”

“—BUT IT’S MEAT! How could you take away my happiness like that, Connie!” the shriek was lunatic indeed and the bald boy just cackled, mouthing yet another apology for tying her up to the pole earlier tonight. Sasha was not amused, obviously, but she eventually caved in as she let out a long, deep sigh, retreating her head to Connie’s shoulder, “Could’ve been my last meat, you know?”

“Nonsense,” Jean snorted, still inspecting his stomach that was bludgeoned by Eren’s fist earlier. He would only finally surrender to the pain where no one would see other than two of his most trusted comrades.

“Yeah, Sasha. Nonsense.” Connie repeated, turning his head to Jean as he sought for reassurance, “We’re gonna survive this one. Right?”

There was a brief silence between them. It was clear that despite their best hope, they were thinking the possibilities of meeting their lethal ends with this mission. The idea of being young had never crossed their minds before – how they should not be thinking of their own death, how they should cast hope for the future – these were some distant ideas that they never got acquainted with. For these young soldiers, there were moments when they passingly imagined of being in their adulthood and what would they do by that time; but to their surprise, along with it often arrived the feeling of remorse, as if their wish to live on were nothing but wishful thinking. They had been conversant with death too early in their lives, and it had become a recurring visitor that they had to greet reluctantly.

“I really hope so…” she mumbled, her eyes gazed afar at the trio down the steps, “Must be hard for them, isn’t it?”

“Them?”

“Yeah,” Sasha raised his head from Connie’s shoulder and scooted over so she could look at both Connie and Jean, “I can’t imagine having to put up with such burden, returning to their decimated district.”

“Poor Armin and… Mikasa. And then there’s that maniac,” Jean scoffed, “he better does his job right. Tch. Such great power on meekly little hands—”

“—Jean,” the interruption was unprecedented as it was stern, Sasha was looking directly to him, “Cut it off, alright? It’s no use.”

There was a brief look of surprise from Jean that he immediately masked with a low chuckle, joined by Connie who was quick to disperse the tension.

Connie and Sasha knew how Jean felt about himself, and how hard he fought his own inner battle. His nightly mumbles of the regret and grief about the passing of Marco, and how he wished he had been better and stronger for tens of his fallen comrades. In those treacherous hours, often slipped through his lips ‘If only I had the power of the titans, I could have made a difference.’ or the seemingly vengeful, ‘If only we didn’t have to save Eren so many times.’ They both knew how calculating, cautious and capable Jean was, and how much he felt overshadowed by unfortunate circumstances, or how he’d always felt like he could have done more if only he had been given the chance to. Each time he succumbed into the dark clouds of his mind, Jean and Sasha was the voice of reason that brought him back from his own demon, ‘For greater good,’ was the convincing phrase that the two of them uttered to Jean, and for greater good did Jean thrived to drown his individual desire and pursuit.

“Let’s just focus on each other, okay?” Connie spoke reassuringly, trying to maintain the lightness in his voice no matter how somber had his heart grown to be, “The three of us. Let’s keep each other safe, okay?

There was a quick yet solemn unison between Jean and Sasha, “Okay.” they said, before a deep silence ensued. From afar, they could hear the sound of Armin from down the step, he was standing and babbling enthusiastically to Eren and Mikasa about the vast prairies of boundless salty water – where merchant could spend their whole life collecting its salt yet it would never deplete. The three of them let silence hung among them as they listened to Armin, and each tried to picture how marvelous the discovery would be. How beautiful, how magnificence would that feeling be. The greater good beyond the wall.

Intuitively they turned to look at each other and the smiles were poignant on their faces, each engulfed in their own thoughts. For a moment the idea of a vast world out there brought a keen warmth inside Connie’s chest, before it was abruptly ceased by the recognition that he no longer had anyone to return home to and tell the story about his journey. Sasha could read the pain that was growing to be visible on Connie’s face, she reached for his arms and squeezed it playfully, “Connie, don’t you think Armin’s crazy?”

“Eh?”

“Eh?” the two exchanged confusion, the similarity their minds shared was uncanny, “Don’t you think so? What kind of weird place would that be? Boundless prairie with water that never runs out of salt to mine… He’s crazy. Maybe knocked himself on the head too hard on the last mission.”

And then the three of them burst out laughing in the kind of humor only they would understand. Jean slid down from his seat and embraced his two friends closely, muttering under his breath, he spoke deeply, “I care so much about the two of you guys…”

There was no audible ‘We do too’ or the likes of it in their friendship for they already knew how they felt about each other. Sasha knew that the forest had long gone for her, and she knew that her home had now resided in the shared battles and journeys with her two best friends. She had accepted the fact that her days would never return to normalcy in the forest like what she had hoped in her early cadet days, but the thought that she would share these days as a soldier with Jean and Connie –no matter how awful or hard would those days be— never failed to bring her at ease. The thought of it made her smile again as she said, wondering, “What do you guys want to do once the war ends?”

The two boys looked at each other, puzzlement was quick to show. When would the war end? They all thought, as each of them had different imagery of what post-war life would look like. For Jean, it would simply look like his childhood: the return to that warm omelet lunch cooked by his mum, laid out on the dining table of his home that he hadn’t been for years, and the faint sound of his mum caressing his hair, ‘Eat well, Jean-boy!’; For Sasha it would simply mean a stroll down the market, buying all the juiciest meat she could buy, and then cook it for the town’s orphans. She thought of chopping down the oak tree behind her old home in the forest, and turned it into the largest dining table she had ever seen, so it would house enough seat for each orphan in the district; As for Connie, after the malady of Ragako, he thought hard what kind of life would he lead after the war ends. For a while, he had thought how meaningless would that be to stay alive after Ragako had been done for. ‘But maybe,’ he thought to himself one day, when he saw Jean and Sasha argued intensely about the best type of dish that eggs could be made into, ‘Maybe I could stay alive just to hear these two idiots argue every day. Maybe I could keep on fighting for everyday’s little, precious moment like this.’ Connie finally knew what kind of post-war life would he like to have: A future where he would no longer have to fight and kill. To have nights when his slumber would be soundly and peaceful, without the voices of death and miseries ringing inside his head no more. He hoped that one day he could tell the tales of his youth to all his grandkids, and how he defeated all the monsters with his two best friends.

“I think this might sound lame but,” Jean broke the silence, “I think I wanna buy my mum a house in the capital. She might like the fancy dwelling, you know.”

Jean and Connie nodded, acknowledging how close was Jean to her mum, and how there was no day passing without Jean regretting his bad behavior towards her during his insecure cadet days. Sasha giggled a little, to the confusion of the two boys, “For me… Maybe I wanna get married.”

The boys suddenly erupted into a fit of laughter, as Connie shrieked, “You—Sasha Braus? Married—to what?”

Sasha kicked the boy’s shin, making Connie whimpered in overdramatic tone, “Of course to a living, breathing man, you idiot.”

“Come, come Sasha, tell us what he’d look like,” amidst his laughter, Jean tried to hype her up, “so we would know what to look for.”

The girl looked up to the starless night and mumbled to herself, “Hmm… maybe… a cute… blond man…” her wondering was quick to be cut-off by the boys’ yet another voluptuous laughter.

“Whoa Sasha, that makes neither of us then! Are you sure?”

“So, like—Armin?”

“…or Commander Erwin?”

Sasha blew a raspberry in disapproval, but carried on with her imagery of whom to marry, “…who likes to cook and also good at it…”

The two boys were still immersed in their own laughter while patting Sasha’s shoulders teasingly, “Let’s stay alive together so we can meet your blond cook one day, okay?”

Sasha giggled to herself, drawing her knees to her chest and hid her face in a childish embarrassment. Jean turned to Connie and nudged him on the waist, making him flinched, tickled, “Oi Connie, your turn.”

He fell to a deep, prolonged hum, before shrugging his shoulder, “I don’t know, maybe something simple.”

“Like what?” Sasha asked, raising her face from her knees.

“Maybe I want to write a book,” Connie said, her mind wandered, “and maybe live close to you guys. Maybe I can try your mum’s legendary omelet, yeah, Jean?”

Jean chuckled in approval, letting Connie to continue, “I’ll have the neighborhood kids –or my own grandkids— come over to my house and listen to our deadly attack on titans. I’ll have Armin come over too since he’s a great story-teller.”

The three teenagers fell deeply into their imagination of how pretty that picture would be. Jean sighed, letting the two others know that there was still a sour fruit hanging in his mind, “Do you think one day someone would write a story about all these?”

“Possibly.”

“Do you think they’ll mention our names too? Jean Kirstein, Sasha Braus and Connie Springer…”

“Probably.”

“Do you think anyone would root for us?” Jean asked again, “Obviously we don’t have the power of the titans, nor are we humanity’s strongest soldiers…”

The three of them drowned into yet another deep silence. Their eyes stared afar at Eren, Mikasa and Armin who were getting ready to leave, secretly mirroring their own to them.

“Hmm,” Connie hummed, ever characteristically so, he maintained the keenness in his voice, “maybe someone would root for us because we remind them of themselves. Just ordinary people who thrive…”

Jean raised his brows as he looked at his best friend, “Even when we’re greeted with struggles beyond compare?”

“Exactly.”

Sasha chimed in, “Even when sometimes it feels like it’s beyond our ability…”

“We keep on fighting. Right, guys?” Connie threw his smile to the two fellow soldiers whom he had grown to love and care for, more than he had to himself, “Because that’s what matters, right? As long as we put the effort, we give our own meaning to this futile fate of being alive.”

“That’s right.” – “Yes, Connie.”

Connie sighed, this time it was the sound of relief, “I’m grateful.”

“For what?”

“For the two of you. You both are the only family I have left.” There was still a stinging pain in Connie’s words, but he was finally at terms with it. He had made peace with his grief, and it was visible to both Jean and Sasha as they hug the shorter boy closer to even a warmer embrace, and finally, they laughed again.

“Or maybe we can rebuild Ragako after this?” Jean sparked the idea, sending a glimmer of hope into Connie’s eyes, “Find the cure for your mum, and let’s live closely together there. We can be neighbors. You said there’s plenty of boar for Sasha to hunt, right, Connie?”

Sasha squealed in excitement to which Jean responded by a loving pat to his brunette hair, as he spoke again, “And maybe we can go to Sasha’s house for dinner every night since his husband’s a good cook.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Let’s stay alive, guys.”

“The three of us.”

“Yeah.”

“Together?” – “As long as we can.”

And so that night, they laughed and laughed. For once, under the starless skies they became what they had not been able to become: children with child-like wonders. Casting hope for tomorrow, they were there to laugh at the odds and to live their lives so well that Death would tremble to take them.

A/N: Hi guys, I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think! Comments or reblogs are highly appreciated, like so so much.

Out of all angst fics I ever read, my heart hurt the most writing this down. Truly, what an ending for them by Yams.

Credit: The last line was derived from Charles Bukowski’s publication.

[writingmylove]

Check your emails -

Spencer Reid x Reader

Between full time work, a postgraduate course and a pandemic I have managed to write a small thing for you.

..........

Our favourite genius is in for a surprise when a special someone pays him an unexpected visit to the BAU.

No warnings.

...........

Her mind was still reeling. She couldn’t believe it.

Covering up a small sob with her hand she paused, leaning her body against the nearest wall as she thought about the words she'd just been listening to. She let out a deep breath and tried to compose herself. This was better said than done however.

Okay, first thing first, she had to tell Spencer. A second thought then crossed her mind and she froze.

Oh god, how would she tell Spencer?!

She pondered for a moment, biting at her bottom lip and debating her options before deciding she needed to go home first. There was something she needed to get.

Upon reaching home she quickly made her way inside, dumping her coat and immediately rummaging through the drawers of the wooden sideboard unit. She pulled out the small card with a small 'yes' and scribbled in it hurriedly before shoving it in her bag and rushing out once again. Her mind focused on reaching only one place.

Y/n rushed into the Quantico building, adrenaline coursing through her bones as she hurriedly signed in and stated who she was there to meet. Ignoring the concerned look from the receptionist, the young woman then sped walked down the corridor and took the necessary left and right turns before she halted in front of a set of glass double doors. She squinted as she peered through, her eyes tracking the bodies in the hope she might see her husband before she went in, that would makes things easier.

She sighed when she noted she couldn’t see him. The one time he actually chooses to leave his desk, it had to be now. Pausing, she debated whether or not to tell him now. No, she told herself. She couldn’t not tell him. She steeled herself, gave her body a little shake and tried to wipe some of the tears from her cheeks before pushing her way into the room.

Once inside her eyes scanned over the area once again, just incase she had missed him when looking through the glass. As she looked she slowly stepped further into the room, her eyes confirming her genius was not there. At the sound of shuffling footsteps, Morgan looked up from where he was perched on Emily’s desk a few feet away. Recognising the hair and shoe choice he grinned as he say his team mate's wife walking absently towards them.

“Well hey there Firecracker, what are you..” He called out, trailing off once he was able to really look at her. Her face was blotchy and her eyes wet with recent tears. His concern grew and he stood slowly, angling his body more towards her, his actions taking on a protective aura. “Whoa, are you okay?”

Y/n nodded frantically as she turned to look at him, doing this even more so when Emily looked over at her worriedly from around Morgan as she heard him speak. “Where’s Spencer?”

Morgan watched her carefully, the profiler in him assessing his friend as she sniffled. “He just went to the copier, he should be back any moment. Why don’t you come sit down?” He gestured at the desk next to him and Emily, the one currently unoccupied. Y/n moved towards it but her mind was clearly far away. She didn’t really want to sit down, her body far to jittery to stay motionless. She just wanted Spencer.

It was then, by some stroke of luck that out of the corner of her eye she noticed her tall husband walk back towards his desk, his head bent over paper. That wasn’t unusual of course, this was often how she found him.

“Spence!” She called and turned directions, moving swiftly towards him. The young man looked up at his name being called, a smile automatically appearing on his face as he recognised his wife’s voice.

Spencer looked up at his wife, her hair slightly wild from the weather outside but still looking beautiful. However, his smiled faded from his face and he sped quickly towards her, dumping the papers on a nearby desk. Panic set in as he noted the tear tracks on her cheeks and her red eyes.

“What is it? What happened? Are you okay?” Spencer asked worriedly as he frantically looked her over. God forbid some one had hurt her. He quickly banished the thought, not wanting to think about such a thing. He reached out towards her, gently placing his hands on her arms as he looked over her face.

It was then that she beamed at him.

Y/n laughed at the bewildered look on his face. “Yes, yes I’m fine.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She watched him for a moment, her eyes tracing his handsome face before she remembered why she was actually there. Twisting her body and reaching into the bag on her shoulder, she pulled out a small envelope and passing it to him.

Spencer looked down at the envelope addressed to him and then back at his wife. “Um, what is this?” Holy hell, he was so adorable when he was confused. Y/n stifled a giggle.

“Just open it.” She encouraged.

Spencer opened it up and pulled out the little card. It was plain white with a large yellow smiley face on the front. Opening up the card he read it over quickly. And then he read it over again. He was once again confused. In y/n’s curly hand writing were only three words.

‘Check your emails’

“What?” He muttered softly. With his eyebrows furrowed he looked back up. Y/n stood there with a small smile and her phone out in her hands.

Following the instructions on the note he moved over to his desk, near to where JJ was just hanging up the phone and was now watching the pair. The blonde woman greeted y/n as she got closer and the other woman smiled back. Morgan and Emily, having listened into the couple, boldly followed behind them, knowing if it was a problem y/n would tell them to stop, but wanting to know what the hell was going on.

Spencer sat at his desk and opened up the email window on the desktop. There was one new one, from his wife and with no subject but another smiley face and an unnamed attachment. Which, with slight prompting, he clicked on. He waited impatiently as the attachment opened and loaded.

There were a few beats of silence from the team.

“Oh my god.”

Y/n could not contain her smile at Emily’s breathy words as she saw what the other three agents, now crowding behind the young doctor, were also seeing on the computer.

There, on the screen in front of Spencer, was a video clip of an ultra sound, the soft heartbeat playing through the speakers.

Jumping up, and making Morgan and JJ subsequently jump and move back quickly, the tall agent turned towards his wife who once again had tears in her eyes.

“Is this real?” He questioned, eyes wide and his voice shaking as he gestured to the ultra sound.

Y/n nodded. “Yeah Spence, I went to the doctor this morning who confirmed it and I had to come straight here to tell you,” She moved to where her husband was stood frozen and staring at her, placing a soft hand on his cheek. “I’m pregnant.”

Spencer let out a small cry of joy at her words, before scooping her up and pulling her tightly to his chest. Pulling back slightly he looked into her eyes as he whispered “I’m going to be a dad.” Before hugging her closely again.

Morgan let out a loud whoop as the pair pulled apart and pulled his friend into a hug, the two female agents crowding around y/n. “Congrats man!” He spoke before looking up to the walkway to Hotch and Rossi who had just come out of Hotch’s office and were watching the scene below with questioning eyes, and glancing over at Penelope who was stood with her mouth agape, clearly having just witnessed the revelation.

“The Reid’s are having a baby!” He yelled out across the room. With a loud squeal Garcia raced over, as if Morgan’s words had unstuck her feet, and pushed Emily and JJ out the way to pull both y/n and the young doctor into a hug. Hotch and Rossi made their way over to the rest of the team joining in with the happy bubble around them and each gave their congratulations to the couple, Hotch giving their youngest member a strong hug and a wide smile at his news and telling him to take the rest of the afternoon off.

After thanking their friends for their kind words the soon to be parents shortly (and thankfully) found themselves back at home and wrapped tightly in each other’s arms on the sofa.

Speaking softly as he stroked his wife’s hair, Spencer muttered about what kind of profiler was he if he couldn’t even tell his wife was pregnant. Y/n laughed at his words, but said she was glad he hadn’t noticed, or the announcement today would never have worked quite so well.

The genius looked down at his wife, her eyes glowing with happiness in the warm light of their lamp, and felt, in that moment so overwhelmed with love. Tilting his head he kissed her deeply, pouring all his feelings into it just as he had done on their wedding day. He pulled back from her slowly, savouring the moment, and rested his forehead against hers. He placed a, slightly shaky, hand on her (still flat) stomach in awe and he whispered to them both.

“I love you.”

To which she responded.

“We love you too.

[beauvibaby]

3 times he did a sweet gesture + 1 time you gave him a surprise - t.konecny

1.

Travis laughed as I got out of his car, my glasses fogging up as they went from the cold air conditioning to the summer heat. “It’s not funny, I can’t see.” I complained with a pout as I took my glasses off and wiped it off with my shirt. “Awe, my poor girl.” He teased, taking the glasses from me and slipping them back on my face, taking the chance to tuck my loose hair behind my ear. “Yeah.” I mumbled, smiling when he kissed my pouted lips. “What am I gonna do with you?” He tsked, pulling me along into the restaurant, “love me, obviously.” I responded with a giggle.

“Travis? Did you order something for me?” I called as I walked into the apartment, lightly shaking the small box with my name on it as I kicked my work shoes off. “Hmm, maybe.” He hummed approaching me, he took my lunch bag from my shoulder, greeting me with a kiss. “What is it?” I asked all excited as I followed him into the kitchen, I hopped up on the counter and smiled when he stood between my knees. “It’s nothing special, just saw it and thought of you.” He laughed, rubbing circles into my thighs as I ripped the packing tape off. I unrolled the small spray bottle and laughed as I read the label, “anti fogging spray? That’s actually really sweet, love.” I smiled at him, he shrugged softly, cracking a lopsided smile, pushing my glasses back up my nose. Contacts were reserved for special occasions, as my eyes were so sensitive. “Maybe now you’ll stop tripping over parking curbs when you get out of the car, eh?” He joked, I threw my head back in a fit of giggles, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. “Probably not, but thank you.” I laughed pulling him in for another kiss.

2.

I whined when I felt Travis placing a soft kiss to my forehead, telling me it was time for him to leave for a roadie, I blinked a couple times to get my eyes to focus on him in the barely lit room. “I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled, his smile barely noticeable in the dark. “I’m gonna miss you.” I responded, playing with his hair for a moment, “you can’t leave without a proper kiss.” I whispered, smirking when he rolled his eyes but leaned down, it felt like forever but no time at all when he finally pulled away. “It’s only one week, I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured me, hearing the small sniffle from me when he stood to his full height. Normally I could keep my composure, but of course he had to be leaving right at the start of my period, the most emotional time. “I know,” I paused sighing, finally releasing his hand, “I love you.” I added as he started walking backwards towards the door, keeping his eyes on me. “I love you too, y/n.”

I finally woke up for the day, not having to work today which meant I was able to sleep in after Travis left this morning, I sat up, letting the blanket pool around my hips as I adjusted to the light. I looked over to the dresser and smiled when I saw a small stack of clothes on top of it. I climbed out of the bed and walked over, smiling when I saw a note scribbled out on top. I lifted it and let a genuine laugh fall from my lips when I saw Hershey’s kiss sitting there for each day of the week he’d be gone. I slipped out of my pajamas and into one of his hoodies that he had left out for me. I was about to send him a text when I noticed he was typing, a message coming through shortly after.

“I figured you’re awake by now and probably already wearing a shirt I left, but I left the rest of the chocolate in the fridge, leave me a couple yeah?”

“That’s asking a lot, babe, and also, it’s a hoodie not a shirt”

“Smart ass”

“But I’m your smart ass!”

“Always will be”

3.

I bounced around the apartment happily as I cleaned up, Travis would be home any minute from his roadie and I was beyond extatic, I had a long day at work, but when I remembered he was coming home it didn’t matter. I’d take a hundred bad days if it meant I got to have him back home. I was too busy dancing around to the music I had playing, folding the millions of blankets we had lying around the living room to hear him walk in. I turned around to walk into the kitchen and let out a surprised scream when he was leaning against the door way. I placed a hand on my heart as he began laughing deeply at my expression, “you jerk.” I muttered before running over to him, he happily welcomed me into his arms. “But I’m a jerk who brought home your favorite take out.” He mumbled into my neck as I wrapped my legs around him, I leaned back as his hands went under my thighs to support me. I pulled him in for a kiss before speaking. “I always cook when you come home, it’s a tradition.” I gasped, something he always loved, he shrugged his shoulders. “You told me you had a bad day at work, so I figured we could break tradition just this once.” Travis smiled when my face lit up, “you’re too good to me, Konecny.” I teased, he shook his head. “Nope, it’s definitely the other way around baby, now did you save any of that chocolate?”

+ 1.

I nervously sat near my usual spot at all his games, but he didn’t know I was here, I had told him I couldn’t take off work to come, that my boss would have had a fit. He understood of course, but he was sad to say the least, normally for this many away games I would fly out, which I did, he just didn’t know it. I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail and a baseball cap on top of my head, I caught him looking over every time a goal was made, out of instinct, but he never spotted me, I mean how would he if I wasn’t supposed to be here, and I had my face covered with a hat, and oh, I wasn’t wearing his jersey, I was wearing Nolan’s just to poke some fun at him.

Once the game was over I was waiting outside of the locker rooms with some of the other girlfriends, or family members and I had since taken the hat off and let my hair down, instantly becoming more recognizable. Nolan was the only one who knew I was here, so when he walked out he shot me a grin, “nice jersey!” He called, mouthing a quick “he’s coming” before heading off with some of the other boys. Travis walked out with a sulking manner, not looking up from his phone, I saw him typing away on it and then my phone dinged, I bit my lip when the noise made him glance up. He did a double take, “y/n?!” He gasped, nearly tackling me in a hug. I grinned as he steadied us against the wall. “I thought you couldn’t come!” He didn’t give me a chance to answer as he pressed our lips together, hands tangled in my hair. I laughed when he finally leaned back, “surprise.” I shrugged and he shook his head with a giant smile on his face. “You kept looking at me and I thought I was gonna get caught.” I told him, and then he noticed the number on the jersey I was wearing. “Really?” He groaned, toying with the fabric hanging off of my skin. I raised my eyebrows, pulling him down slightly to whisper in his ear. “I promise you’ll like what I’m wearing underneath much better.” I bit my lip when I pulled back and he looked a little flustered, he cleared his throat, “well then, let’s get going.” He was practically dragging me out of the arena, smiling every once in a while when I’d let out a giggle. I wouldn’t change a thing.

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