#I spend every day terrified to open socials because I’m not ready for him to leave FBK lol (aka when a contract means NOTHING)

[michaelblunting]

From moving to Sweden, to scoring a hattrick for the national team, to winning SHL skytteligan in his first season there, to being on the second line of the national team at the worlds, to scoring at the world championship, to being bumped down to the fourth line, to having the second best FO% on the team, to being a world champion. What a season.

[buckyownsmylife]

You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”

[chokingonpaper]

Ohla Bola, how are you today? I come bearing a request; ej, with a "kidnapped" s/o, but they went willingly, because they are a monster lover, and who would pass up the opportunity to be with that hunk of a demon 🥵 (I know I wouldnt). So the gist of it is, they are compliant, they know exactly what is going on, manipulation wise, dont care because they are finally being loved (emotional distant parents maybe?) And fully reciprocate the affections and obsessions that ej has for them. (Maybe they see it as the only way they will ever find true love?)

If this is possible? Many thanks adieu

Im doing good, and of course! Again, I might make a part two :D This ended up kind of being the prologue for how this would go in the future ig- If I make a part two it’ll be more about the kidnapping and stuff like that

Also happy 100 posts!

//

𝐍𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐄𝐉 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

//

1,390 words

//

You had always been a lonely person. Often times people avoided you, and the people that decided to stick around always seemed to fade away sooner or later.

You lived at the edge of your neighborhood with most of your house concealed by large, dark trees. The community was always planning things and arranging little parties, but you never went. It wasn’t entirely other people’s fault that you were alone, you just weren’t that interested in other people. Though a part of you yearned for a friend, someone that understood you and wouldn’t leave at only a moments notice. But that person hadn’t arrived yet, and you had given up hope that they ever would.

Life was dull, and every morning you woke up you wondered if anything would ever change. Every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, get home, and sleep. Then it’d repeat over, and over, and over again. Every time you came home you found your house empty, and you were once again reminded of how alone you were.

But then one day you felt the strange feeling of eyes on your back. Not having very many friends, you often spent your time observing rather than socializing. You knew this feeling very well, and you knew that you were being watched. Yet along with this unnerving feeling, you felt a rush you’d never experienced before. You weren’t alone, and for whatever reason you were okay with that.

Whenever you walked through the kitchen, you felt eyes trailing you from your windows. You didn’t know who the person was or why they were watching you. You hadn’t even managed to catch a glimpse of them yet.

Whenever you got ready for work and headed out the door, you felt the same thing. Even when you were at work, you swore you could still feel their presence. A part of you wondered if you had just made this person up, just to make you feel less alone. By the other part of you wondered if you were in danger. If this was real, you had a stalker on your hands, and you had no idea who it could be.

It could be a coworker, an old employer, or even just a passing customer. Their identity was completely unknown, and you spent hours pondering who they could possibly be and what they looked like. But they were good at hiding themselves, and you hadn’t even seen a shadow.

Weeks passed and you began to tell yourself that it was all in your head, but then knocking came. It was almost like it was to reassure you that they were there, that they hadn’t left, and that they were anything but imaginary.

The first time it happened you nearly jumped out of your chair, but as time passed and the little knocks and taps continued, they became almost comforting. You weren’t supposed to feel at peace when you had a stalker, but it’d been so long and they hadn’t hurt you yet, so who’s to say they ever would? They might just be an observer, like you.

But soon enough just observing wasn’t good enough for them. It had been over a month, and now Jack wanted a little more than just standing to the side and watching your life as if it were a movie. He wanted to be around you, to hold you, to be the one to take you away from your loneliness. He knew how little you went out besides when you had to work, and he knew how much you wanted someone to talk to and spend time with. He’d seen you watch groups of friends with envy, wondering what it was like to be so close to someone. He’d seen you lie on your back staring up at the ceiling, feeling so empty that you couldn’t even cry. Jack had seen you stare out the window where he stood only a moment ago with eyes full of desperation, silently begging him to reveal himself.

He knew you, and he wanted to take you away from everything you disliked about the world.

So the next time you looked out the window with a sad sigh, he decided to try something he’d never even thought to do before. Jack slowly stepped out of the shadows and in front of your window, finally allowing you to see the dark figure who had been watching you nearly every hour of every day.

Your eyes widened in pure shock and you froze, just studying the man who had presented himself to you.

He was tall, several inches above six feet. His physique was impressive, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Though he was at a distance, you could tell how much he towered over you. He stood still, holding eye contact with you and staring you down with an intense gaze. Anyone could see that this man wasn’t someone to be messed with, and it was already clear to you that you weren’t getting out of this one.

But even if you could, would you want to?

Then suddenly he was no longer still, and his noticeably large hands reached for the window. The window was locked, but you guessed he already knew this. This was was a stranger who had been stalking you for a little over a month. You had never seen him before, and you knew damn well that if he got into your home he could overpower you with ease. Yet as your heart beat faster, pounding loudly in your chest, you hesitantly stepped towards the window.

A small sliding lock was the only thing keeping the man out, though you could guess he had other ways of getting in if he needed to. After all, the windows weren’t bullet-proof.

You gulped down a lump of nervousness and placed your shaking hand over the lock. The man, Jack, watched with interest as you slowly unlocked it, giving him access to your home, and to you.

Why were you doing this? Why were you letting him in? You were unlike any human he’d ever encountered before, and that only made his desire to keep you for himself grow.

Not doing anything more than unlocking it, you backed away from the window as the man pushed it open and climbed inside. Once he stood at his full height you looked up at him in awe. Covering his face was a navy blue mask that dripped black from the eyes. It sent a chill down your spine and froze you in place. Now that he was closer it was only more obvious just how strong he was. He was so much taller than you and obviously very strong. He was the definition of intimidating, and if you weren’t frozen in place you would have crumbled to the ground.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like hours, but then he took a step forward and your eyes widened.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice came out less comforting than you would have liked. It was deep and incredibly raspy, as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks.

You nodded slowly, his words not really making you feel any safer. “W-Who are you?” You asked in a tone only a bit above a whisper. It was clear that you were afraid, yet you made no attempt to leave.

“I’m Jack.” He answered simply, not offering any more information that could help you understand what exactly was going on. You had just let your stalker into your home, and now you were having a semi-calm conversation with him.

Jack soon took another step towards you, and now only about a foot was between you.

“I’m going to take you with me. Either cooperate, or I’ll knock you out. Understand?” He stated lowly, staring down at you with complete seriousness. You were about to be kidnapped, but instead of fear you felt almost… relieved. Someone wanted you. Someone wanted you so badly that they were going to simply take you. It sounded so wrong, so terrifying, yet all you could think about was how you would no longer be alone.

And so you nodded, letting him silently lead you out of your house and into the tree line from which you would never emerge from again.

[catboyantichrist]

Hi there! Can you please do relationship headcanons of a gender neutral MC with autism and ADHD dating the seven brothers? I’d love to see more positive writing of a neurodivergent MC and how each of the brothers would love and respect them regardless of their disabilities. Feel free to do this if you want to. If not, that’s ok! Have a great day! 😁👍🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🌻🌼🌸🌺

This ask literally made me squeal- my neurodivergent ass is gonna have way too much fun with this- LMAO Just a warning, I'm basing this mainly off of my personal experiences (I have ADHD and am possibly getting tested for atypical autism in the future.). Ill try to be as broad as possible but I'd just like to give a heads up.

Just know that if you don't relate to this post or something in it, that doesn't mean you aren't valid! Everyone experiences neurodivergencey differently ^^

☆The Brothers Dating A GN!MC With Autism & ADHD☆

Day-to-day life has always been a struggle. As it feels like no human truly understands why you function the way you do. From bosses, to teachers, to neurotypical friends. Life can feel draining and like a chore when you're living in a world that doesn't function the way you do.

Then your world literally changes. You're in the devildom now. Most people would be terrified that they're living in a house full of demons. But you weren't. You felt like you finally belonged, and eventually you finally found love. Something that people assumed you'd never be able to find. Well jokes on them because your lover treats you with so much respect and kindness, and of course you do the same. This is some of what your lover does that just makes your heart spin:

Lucifer:

-Much to your dismay, before Lucifer started to get to know you he was similar to the humans you've encountered in the past. This doesn't last long though as one of the brothers (most likely Leviathan or Mammon) try to explain. He begins to go a bit easier on you, and also falls for you.

-When you guys start dating, he makes it his goal to help make your day-to-day life easier. Dare I say, he takes pride in it. (Hahahah aren't I funny?)

-He notices how you need a schedule to function, but how much you hate schedules. So with your permission, he makes a loose schedule and follows it WITH you. It simultaneously helps you function more than usual, and it helps Lucifer take breaks when he needs to.

-You two begin to do everything together, as doing stuff together and holding each other accountable is a lot easier than doing it alone

-If someone ever dares to make a rude comment about you Lucifer will um... "take care of them".

-If you ever get overstimulated from the environment you're in, Lucifer keeps his office wide open as a quiet place for you. He keeps a weighted blanket, some headphones and any stim toys you usually use in a corner of his office. If you're not comfortable with them out in the open he'll keep them in a special box somewhere in his office that others can't get into.

Mammon:

-Executive Dysfunction gang! The both of you are relieved that you understand each other and some dumbass wont just go "jUsT gEt Up aNd dO iT!"

-If you guys are struggling with it at different times, you'll try to help each other do small tasks that require very limited effort so that one of you don't get overwhelmed and stressed out. If its a particularly difficult day, you'll just stay there to support the other if they want that.

-If both of you are struggling that day, you do nothing ���together✨ and just vibe with each others company.

-This man brings you shiny things. They don't even have to be worth anything, they're just shiny. You proceed to do the same. You two now have a designated spot for shiny things you bring each other. If you have an interest in art, you and him will probably end up using the shiny objects as art projects.

-A LOT of impulse shopping. You guys enable each other. Although you quickly realize that you impulse shop for each other. Every second day you end up bringing each other gifts and laughing about it after.

Leviathan:

-Y'know that arm thing two neurodivergent people do when they find out that the other person is neurodivergent? Yeah you two did that. And still continue to do that. It's your greeting now.

-You two spend tons of time either cuddling and talking about your special interests together, or both of you are pacing around Levi's room talking about your special interests together.

-And if you end up having the same special interest?? Oh man the serotonin you two both get just being AROUND each other.

-If you have a hard time around tons of people (in general or just at certain times) he's more than willing to share his room with you and for you two to do online school together. I mean hey, doing school by yourself online is difficult. (Even if it's more comfortable for you both)

-Will he get you a matching pair of noise cancelling headphones if you have auditory sensory issues, or if you just like the pressure on your head. (I don't know if that's a neurodivergent thing but I will wear my headphones just so that I feel some sort of pressure on my head)

-You both communicate what you need, and whether you need alone time or not. Making sure not to trigger any form of rejection sensitivity dysphoria for eachother.

Satan:

-If you were one of those neurodivergent kids that spent all of their time in the library, going through books like wildfire in middle school, get ready for that to be reignited.

-You two will read together all the time, and if you're having a day where you're more fidgety and don't wanna stay still, Satan is more than happy reading to you while you pace around.

-Satan has a natural curiosity, and loves to learn about anything that he doesn't already know about. So if you have a special interest about your own neurodivergency, he is more than happy to listen to you ramble about your life experiences and symptoms.

-Honestly, it doesn't even have to be about neurodivergency, Satan is happy to listen and learn about anything you're interested currently.

-If you aren't big on physical affection from humans or, well... humanoid people, that's perfectly fine! That's what animals are for! He'll take you to a cat cafe and will enjoy spending time with the animals with you.

-Similar to Lucifer, if anyone makes a comment about the way you act, they wont live to see another day. Unlike Lucifer, the demons who say these comments don't even finish their sentence. They're dead before MC blinks.

Asmodeus:

-When Asmodeus finds out that you have sensory issues that affect what you wear, he decides to hand-make clothes with fabrics of your choice. He has no issue with you prioritizing comfort over appearance, but if you want to put effort into your appearance and texture is stopping you, he's more than happy to design some stuff for you.

-Asmodeus has always been a touchy person, but if you aren't comfortable with that he'd never force you to cuddle. If you are interested in physical affection one of his favourite things to do is put makeup on your face, or just touch your face.

-Speaking of which, if you ever impulsively cut your hair whether it be from breakdown, normal impulsivity, or sensory issues with your hair being longer. He'll always help you cut your hair. He wants to make sure that once you cut it, you wont regret it the next day.

-Depending on whether you like going outside or not (or if its depending on the day) he's more than happy to take you to the fall! He'll make sure you're always comfortable and if you need the attention diverted from you if you need a break!

-If you don't like going outside, Asmo will dedicate certain nights for just you two to hang out. He can always energy match you. Hyperactive? Oh he's right there with you bouncing of the walls. Calmer? He doesn't mind just vibing with you. Comfort? Oh you've come to the right guy.

-Asmodeus is very emotionally intelligent, it may have originally been for the wrong purposes (charming others) but now he can use it to help you work through issues with socializing with others, past traumas from other people, he'll always do his best to support you as long as you'd do the same for him!

Beelzebub:

-Beel is always well meaning, but whether you're neurodivergent or neurotypical, communication is key with him. So, if you're unintentionally blunt to neurotypical people, that's exactly what Beel needs and wants. He knows you don't mean it out of harm, you're just trying to state your boundaries.

-Do you need a weighted blanket? This man will become the weighted blanket. He wants to make sure you're comfortable at all times!

-If you have trouble eating, Beel is here to help. If you take meds for ADHD and they make you lose your appetite, or just general forgetfulness, he'll remind you to have at least some sort of small snack throughout the day. Nothing too filling, just enough so that you aren't running on zero food throughout the day.

-All the go-to and comfort foods that you had in the human world? Beel would make it his MISSION to get them, and TONS of it too. It's the only food in the house he wont eat because he knows how important it is to you. He will tear up a bit if you offer to share though.

-If you're in a hyperactive mood, or anxious, Beel will convince you to do some light exercise with him to help calm you down

Belphegor:

-If you have trouble sleeping, Belphie will definitely try and help. Ranging from cuddling, aroma therapy, getting Beel to do exercise with you. To more magical means (if you're comfortable with it) like sleeping powder.

-If you just have a different internal clock than the average person, that's fine too! It may be permanent but that's okay- Belphie will sleep at any time with you.

-Isn't generally a social person so if you're not that big of a fan of social interaction you don't have to worry. Belphie would even do online school with you!

-He would let you use his pillows and blankets to stim if that's something you're interested in. He'd also listen to you ramble about your interests while doing so! As long as you don't mind him talking about the stars afterwards.

-Definitely the most blunt out of his brothers, so communication wouldn't be an issue between you two. If his bluntness is a bit too harsh for you he'll try to tone it down a bit, but it would probably just end up as him trying to explain the reasoning behind the bluntness and how it's not out of harm.

[gukyi]

good luck charm | kth

summary: kim taehyung has nearly everything he’s ever dreamed of: an apartment in new york city, a lead role in an off-broadway play, and a best friend to share it with. but even still, there’s one thing missing—love. and when he goes on the hunt for it, he dots every i and crosses every t, leaves no stone unturned, but forgets to look at the person who could ever love him the most: you.

{friends to lovers!au, roommates!au, actor!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, unrequited love word count: 11k a/n: a huge thank you to MK for commissioning me for this piece–i hope it’s everything you dreamed of!!!! these are tough times, but i hope this can serve as a distraction to everyone!! please stay safe and wash your hands! if you’re interested in commissioning me, check out this post! also, if the pictures are unclear, click on them for higher resolution!

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

You see a tuft of purple hair sticking out behind a basket of orange pansies, two nimble hands with long fingers fiddling with the stems. 

“I bet you say that to everyone,” you tease, as Namjoon peers out from where he’s hiding behind a shelf of flowers, greeting you with the same warm grin he always wears. 

Namjoon pauses, gaze tilting upwards as he corrects himself, “my favorite customer who’s about to confess to her best friend of four years with a bouquet arranged by yours truly?”

You roll your eyes, thankful that there’s nobody else inside this little flower shop. Not that you seem to have an issue exposing your entire life story to certain strangers, especially if they’ve got dimples and colored hair to match. Namjoon has always been something of an exception—perhaps he is one of the closest friends you have here in the city, where everything moves so quickly you barely have time to say hello to a new acquaintance. Namjoon and his flower shop are a respite, a safe haven in a bustling world, where time always seems to move slower than it does outside. 

“Don’t remind me, I’m sweating just thinking about it,” you tell him, trying to cover your nervousness with a laugh. 

“Ah, well how could I forget, when you came to me to arrange the perfect bouquet for tonight?” Namjoon says. He chops a wilting flower from its stem and places it behind his ear. Even though it’s a little sadder, a little less lively than its comrades, the bright yellow of the primrose complements his hair nicely, making him look even more ethereal, magical, than he already does. 

“Who else would I ask besides the best bouquet-maker in town?” You ask as Namjoon leads you to the counter, where various bouquets have been laid out in vases, ready for pick-up. It’s a secret garden here, all green and fresh and calm, a sharp contrast to the industrial machine outside. 

Namjoon heads to the back, a room behind a little wooden door that’s the slightest bit too short for him, so he has to bend down to avoid hitting his head (he still hits his head rather frequently, though), as you breathe in the scents of the flowers surrounding you, the roses and the daisies and everything in between. It’s not much, but it does calm the thick beating of your heart ever so slightly, and that’s enough. 

He emerges a minute or so later, banging his head on the way out. In his hands is one of the biggest bouquets you’ve ever laid eyes on, thick with some flowers you recognize but more you don’t. It’s breathtaking and gorgeous and impressive, all at once. 

“Namjoon, you know that I didn’t ask for this many flowers,” you chide as he plops the bouquet down onto the counter, clicking away at the ancient cash register to his left. 

“Consider it a good luck gift,” Namjoon tells you with a wink. 

You sigh, pulling out your card to pay him. “I could use all of the luck I could get.” The likelihood of tonight going more right than wrong is miniscule. But what else can you do, besides try? “What do they all mean?”

“Well, the daffodils represent honesty and truth. The red carnations mean love, obviously. So do the chrysanthemums. The baby’s breath is just for decoration, but it also means everlasting love. The gardenias are for secret love. And the freesia is just because I thought it went well with the bouquet,” Namjoon says expertly, pointing to each one as he tells you what it means. “I don’t know if Taehyung’s super up with his flower meanings, but I think that even the gesture will say more than enough. But if he is, this is just a bonus.”

“I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?” You say, the nerves overtaking you. You were hoping to just act calm and collected, thank Namjoon for the bouquet and be on with your lives, but even you can’t help but seek advice from him. 

Namjoon lets out a laugh. “If you think it’s going to go so badly, why have you planned so much?” He poses. “It’s normal to be nervous about this sort of thing—what if I mess up, what if he doesn’t feel the same way, what if he rejects me—but I think that, deep down inside of you, there’s a part that thinks that it will all be worth it. And I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sucker for happy endings, but I think that that’s the most important. The part of you that doesn’t want to spend the rest of its life thinking about what might have been.” Namjoon’s phone lights up next to him, his lockscreen a picture of him and another boy, shorter, but with the same dyed hair. The two look so happy together. He gazes down at it, exhales, and shuts his phone off. “Just my two cents.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Kim Namjoon,” you tell him with a smile. Maybe you are nervous about the what ifs, nervous that this whole thing could blow up in your face, but is it so naive of you to listen to that whisper in your heart? The one that says, maybe he feels the same? “I wish you’d take your own advice, sometimes.”

“It’s different,” Namjoon murmurs to himself. “He and I… this is all we’ll ever be.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” you tell him. You know the feeling. Perhaps, if tonight goes well, it will encourage him to give it a shot himself. “You never know.” Namjoon looks up at you, smile wide but eyes sad. There’s clearly something more that he isn’t mentioning, but you won’t push it. You get it. How could you not? “What if he does feel the same?”

The bell above the door rings on your way out, fingers clenching onto a bouquet, praying and wishing and dreaming that maybe this will all be worth it, in the end.

Something is up with Kim Taehyung. 

When you return to your apartment, Kim Taehyung is slouched on your dinky loveseat, arm deep inside a six-month-old box of Frosted Flakes, as an episode of Jeopardy! plays on his laptop, his eyes empty and glazed over as he stares at Alex Trebek, wordless.

You nearly jump in shock, terrified that he’ll spot you and the enormous bouquet in your hands, terrified that he’ll ask you about it, terrified that your entire plan for tonight will get flushed down the toilet the moment you and him lock eyes. But it doesn’t, because Kim Taehyung doesn’t even acknowledge you when you walk in, for better or for worse, and you manage to stash the bouquet into a vase in your bedroom before rounding on your roommate, because something is up with Kim Taehyung. 

Kim Taehyung hates Frosted Flakes. The only reason they’re in your apartment to begin with is because Jungkook had brought them over one time when he was visiting, and even then they were stale. Now they’re extra stale. So stale that they make a hollow sound on your countertop when you tap them against the laminate. 

Kim Taehyung normally shuffles through Jeopardy! like it’s nobody’s business. He gets at least a quarter, if not half of the questions correct, and always earns more points than you. But he doesn’t even open his mouth when Alex Trebek says, “This Renaissance artist left Florence to serve as principal engineer for the Duke of Milan’s army” and you know that he knows it’s Leonardo Da Vinci. 

Kim Taehyung normally has plenty to say, especially to Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip, who currently resides in your living room. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has been your honorary second roommate ever since the two of you moved into this apartment four months ago. Taehyung made him a little museum placard that is framed and hanging on the wall above him, and he has an account on every social media website under the sun. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has more followers on Instagram than you do. But today, both he and Sawyer are silent and unmoving. 

“Tae?” You ask, treading over to the couch as he empties the box of Frosted Flakes into his stomach, finishing up the episode. “Is everything alright?”

“Mmrph,” he mumbles in response. You suppose that means he said fine, which means that no, everything is not alright. 

“What’s going on? You’re normally really excited the day of your shows,” you ask. At least he hasn’t entirely turned into a soulless hermit, and he moves his legs off of the couch so you can sit beside him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Taehyung says, louder. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?”

You smile softly, shaking your head as you reach a hand out, letting it rest in his lap before he takes your hand in his. “No, it’s not. Tonight’s a big deal, isn’t it? You must be under a lot of pressure to do well.”

“I’m just so worried that I’ll fuck it up and everyone will hate me forever,” Taehyung says, exasperated. It’s almost as if he’s tired with himself for being so negative. 

“You’re not gonna fuck it up and nobody is going to hate you. I’ll always love you, you know that,” you assure him. 

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung says, but the worst part is that you’re not sure if he really does. 

“It’s okay to be nervous, and to worry. Tonight is really important. But you’re an incredible actor, and you’ve always been so good at what you do,” you tell him, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand softly. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

Taehyung lets his head rest on your own and the two of you sit together on the couch in silence, watching as the minutes on his laptop clock tick by. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and soft, firm underneath his chest. You wonder if he can hear yours. Hear how it’s picking up speed, hear how it beats only for him. 

“You always know what to say,” Taehyung tells you. “I wish I knew how to do that.”

You grin sadly to yourself, happy that the two of you are side by side so he doesn’t have to see your face. How could Taehyung tell you something like that? How could he, when every time you’re near him, you’re speechless?

You never really considered yourself to be a theater person when you were younger. You would fall asleep when you went to see plays with your parents or on a school field trip. You never made an effort to go see the performances that your school put on. You were one-hundred percent confident that you would go through all four years of university without seeing one of the fifteen different theater groups’ shows, not because you hated them, but because they never crossed your mind in the first place. 

And then, you met Kim Taehyung. 

You met Kim Taehyung halfway through your freshman year because the two of you were in the same Cinematography in the 1900’s class. And then, suddenly, you were eating the same shitty food in the dining hall after class ended at seven in the evening. And then, suddenly, you were studying together, spending nights watching Jeopardy! on his laptop when you didn’t feel like doing any work. And then, suddenly, Kim Taehyung mentioned in passing one day that he had a show that Friday, and would you like to come, it would really mean a lot to him, he thinks you’ll really like it. 

And then, suddenly, you were a theater person. 

That night was the first night Kim Taehyung had ever taken your breath away. And every performance, every night, every fucking moment after that, he never stopped.

Tonight is no exception. You can’t say that you’re super well-versed in theater fame and its technicalities, but you think that this may just be Taehyung’s best performance yet. Here, in this theater off of Sixth Avenue, to a crowd of two, perhaps three hundred people, Taehyung is nothing short of amazing. He never is. From the moment he steps on stage in a raggedy old flannel and jeans, eyes wide with dreams, he reels you in and makes sure that you won’t leave this theater, won’t leave here unscathed. But the fatal blow is halfway through, when he finally spots you in the third row, sees you staring up at him in wonder, and he smiles. 

There is so much that you wish you could tell him. 

After the show, you race back to your apartment, desperate to finish up the last of the preparations before he arrives, after taking off all of his makeup and his costumes, saying goodbye to all of his co-stars. Normally, you’d hang around, let him introduce you, but tonight is different. Special. 

[September 8th, 9:35PM]

You: Had to go home bc I’m planning a special something for the star of the night! Sorry I missed all of the fun afterwards You: Something very important to tell you

Taehyung: ohoho Taehyung: I wonder who that could be Taehyung: Coming soon. I have something to tell you too! ^^

You stare at the text as you grab the vase of flowers from your room, setting it up at your very unimpressive kitchen table. What could Taehyung possibly have to tell you? Other than perhaps a thanks for showing up (as if you weren’t going to). 

What if, that voice whispers. The part deep in your heart, the one that you wish would shut up sometimes. 

“No,” you say aloud, perhaps more for yourself than anyone else. “No. I have something to tell him. I have to tell him this.”

You never know, she says. He might. What are you waiting for?

You pull out all of the scented candles in the apartment, setting them up on the coffee table and on the windowsills. There’s a plate of macarons that you had purchased from the fancy bakery in Midtown sitting by the vase, a little treat for the two of you since your diets usually consist of premade Costco pasta and takeout. 

There is so much you want to tell him. So much to say, and no way to do it. It seems impossible. As the minutes tick by, as he gets closer and closer, you wonder if you even have the courage to open your mouth. It’s not as if this is life-changing news. It would be so easy, so easy to just pretend that this is nothing but a celebration of Taehyung’s very first major off-Broadway show, to push down the ache in your heart and tell that voice to stay quiet, if only for a little longer. You’ve lived like this for so long already. Who’s to say you can’t live like this forever?

Taehyung comes home as you’re flicking through late-night television show reruns and fiddling with a Rubix cube, anything to keep your mind occupied and your fingers busy. You hear as he fumbles with the lock—his key has always been a little bit off—and scramble to get everything ready, shutting your laptop and putting the Rubix cube on your designated Weird Stuff Shelf. The apartment smells like a hodgepodge of vanilla, flowers, cinnamon, and champagne, and the flowers are already starting to wilt slightly. But it’s now or never, really. 

Taehyung swings the door open with a grin and gasps in excitement when he sees you, standing in the hazy, flickering yellow light of the kitchen, surrounded by candles, with a plate of macarons and a vase of flowers on the table. 

“Oh my God!” He says, overjoyed, high off of the adrenaline from a successful show, eyes still sparking from the spotlight. “Y/N! What is all of this?”

“Just a little something from me to you,” you say awkwardly. You have no idea how to tell him. You’re not sure if you even will. “To celebrate.”

“Dare I say, this apartment has never looked better,” he tells you, beaming. He walks over to where you’re hovering by the kitchen table, knee deep in it all, admiring the sight before him. He leans over you, ever so slightly, as he takes in the scent of the flowers, the macarons sitting before him. And then he turns to you, the glow from the candles making his eyes warm and caramel-y, almost as if they’re shimmering in the light, and he says, “You did all of this for me?”

“Of course,” you tell him, because you would do this again and again if it means you could see him like this. If you could watch him burst through the front door for the rest of your goddamn life, watch as he comes home to you. “Tonight’s special.”

“It wouldn’t be without you,” he tells you honestly, candidly. He tells you that because he means it. You wish you could say the same things to him. “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

It’s now or never. If he takes one step closer, turns to look at you one more time, you don’t know if you’ll still have the courage. You don’t know if you even have it right now, but tomorrow, when you wake up, you don’t want to regret this night. You don’t want to wonder what if, what might have been. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“I have something to tell you,” you breathe out, words heavy on your tongue. You can feel your heart seize up, almost like it’s holding its breath with you. 

“Right, you said that,” Taehyung says with a nod, stuffing a cherry macaron into his mouth. “I have something to tell you, too.”

“Do you want to go first?” You ask him. You just need a little more time. You just want to hear his voice once more. 

“Okay,” Taehyung says happily. “I got a girlfriend!” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Well. 

Okay. 

“Really?” You ask, trying to make it sound more like a Really? That’s great! and not a Really? I thought that we had something special. You don’t think that you’re doing a very good job.

“Yeah!” Taehyung says. He’s ecstatic. It tears your heart in two. “I mean, I know I’m just… a super, hopeless romantic and I fall in love with people when they hold the door open for me, but I’m really happy with her. It’s Ariel, actually, she played Lucy! Isn’t it funny how even though our characters never even officially met, we still found something there?”

“Yeah,” you say, emotionless. Taehyung is far too excited, far too joyous to notice. 

“I just—I wanted to tell you, because you’re my best friend and you deserve to know,” he says, breaking off half of the raspberry macaron and holding it out to you. “What did you want to tell me? Did you say it was important?”

“Oh, uh…” you fumble, shaking your head at the macaron. Your stomach has never felt smaller. It’s like there’s nothing left to say to him. “I think I’m getting transferred to another office.” It’s not news. Your job told you that last week. But it’s something, and it’s better than being honest. Anything is, at this point. “They might pay a little more.”

“Yay!” Taehyung says. “That’s great! Now, maybe we can fix up the lights in the kitchen. So they don’t read horror movie every time I try to make pasta at 2AM. I’m happy for you, you deserve it!”

You smile, putting on a brave face, just for him. “Me too.” You can’t muster up the strength to say anything else. 

Taehyung spends the rest of the night gobbling down the macarons and telling you all about Ariel, as you try desperately to tune him out. Even the sound of your own thoughts would be better than this. Anything. Anything. Eventually, after it’s long past midnight and Taehyung realizes he’ll need his sleep for the show tomorrow night, he bids you goodbye and sets off to his room, a bounce in his step.

You stand in the middle of your apartment. Even though it’s small, and even though you have him, it’s never felt emptier.

Namjoon always says that flowers don’t just need food and water to stay happy. They need love, they need to be surrounded by happiness. He says that they can feel it, that they react to it. That’s why he always tries to be happy when he’s working. Because he hates seeing the flowers so sad. He says they remind him of himself.

It’s no wonder why the flowers in the vase look even more wilted than before.

Here’s the thing: You had pretty much always known that it was going to hurt like this. There had always been that part of you, deep down inside, that knew that there was no way it wasn’t going to hurt like this. That knew that there was nothing you could do to stop it from hurting like this. 

And still, foolishly so, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, telling him would make it stop. You gave into this fantasy that, even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he let you down easy, even if he told you that he just wanted to be friends, it would be better. 

That’s the worst part of it all, really. The fact that you never even told him. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t. You never told him, and now, somehow, everything is even worse than before. 

The flowers have long been thrown out by now, tossed out after hardly a week, unable to stand the tension in the air, the emptiness that lingered far beyond that night. Still, you remembered to keep one, plucking it from the vase before it died of secondary sadness. Because even if they hurt you, even if they tear at your heartstrings one by one, you’ve always had this terrible habit of never letting go of what you love. You pressed the flower with an old college textbook, placed it into a thin little vase, meant for one flower only. A red carnation, to remind you of what you could have had. What might have been. 

Kim Taehyung is significantly less worried this time around as he prepares for the opening night of his latest play. He wakes up early and does some yoga in the living room, pushing all of the furniture to the walls so he has enough space to Downward Dog in peace. He watches a couple episodes of Jeopardy! as he eats the Pad Thai he Doordashed to your apartment, and gets half of the questions correct. Even from your bedroom, you can hear him talking to Sawyer. 

“I’m excited for tonight, Sawyer,” he says to him. “I don’t know, last time I did Shakespeare was sophomore year in college, I think? I was Mercutio. It was fun and I got to use a sword. Y/N came to that show, too. I annoyed her so much that night that she told me that she was glad Tybalt killed me, but we had a good time anyway.”

Sawyer doesn’t say anything back, because he is a Suspicious Floor Dip in your living room. But it’s so lovely to hear Taehyung’s voice again. 

“Do you think that Y/N’s been acting weird, lately?” Taehyung asks. “I just feel like—I feel like she and I aren’t as close these days. She works in her room a lot more and some days I don’t see her at all. Which is crazy, because we live together. My ex always said it was a little weird how I lived with my best friend who is also a girl. But I don’t think it is. Do you think I did something wrong?”

No, you wish you could say, leaning against your thin bedroom door as you hear Taehyung wonder aloud. Never, in a million years. It was me, you want to tell him. I got my hopes up and now I’m paying the price. It’s not you. It’s never you. 

“Yeah, I guess she’s just busier these days,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “She did get transferred to that new office a couple of months ago. But she’s still my best friend. I’ll never stop telling her that—she deserves to know that no matter what, she always has me.”

“Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Therapist, huh?” You interrupt, finally getting the nerve to open your door. Taehyung’s on his way out, all dressed, backpack on his shoulder. He has to be at the theater a few hours before the show begins, anyway. 

“He’s just so easy to talk to,” Taehyung jokes. “Did you… uh… did you hear that?”

“The part about being your best friend?” You ask with an eyebrow raise, making Taehyung smile. You don’t mention the other things you heard. You don’t think that would make things better. 

(You’re not sure what will, at this point. Telling him is off the table. You distantly wonder if it was ever on the table to begin with.)

“Just making sure you knew,” Taehyung says with a grin. “Don’t want you forgetting about that.”

“How could I?” You muse, and it makes him smile something fierce and makes you wish that things were different. 

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Taehyung says. He must know the answer, already. 

“Of course I am,” you tell him. “Who do you take me for?”

“I’ll look for you in the crowd, okay?” Taehyung says, a hand on the doorknob as he gets ready to leave. “Keep an eye out for me. Promise?”

It’s always been so hard to say no to him. 

“Promise,” you tell him. 

That night, you sit a little further back, shadowed by the mezzanine above you, but Taehyung finds you anyway. As he schmoozes his way through the storyline on stage, he sends a wink your way, a couple of the girls in the row in front of you giggling to each other when he does. You sort of wish he was really winking at them. That way, it would hurt a little less. 

Afterwards, you linger around in the lobby, waiting for him like you always have, like you always do, like you always will. You don’t have anything special waiting for him back at your apartment. There’s nothing left to tell him. 

You spot his head of soft, wavy brown hair far before he spots you, can make it out in a sea of cast members as they cheer for themselves, celebrating another successful opening show. Your face lights up when you see him, when you see that he sees you. This is how it has always been. This is how it should be—you find each other in the crowd, grinning as you congratulate him, as he introduces you to his cast members and then invites you to the afterparty. You spend the night together, high off of the adrenaline and just a little tipsy, before stumbling back to your apartment, basking in the afterglow. 

You want nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were. 

And then, you see her. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung shouts excitedly, and it takes all of your strength to not let your face fall as she comes into view, hand interlaced with Taehyung’s. “I knew you’d be here!”

“How could I not be?” You say, letting Taehyung wrap you in a one-armed hug rather than two. “You know me.”

“This is my girlfriend,” Taehyung introduces proudly, motioning to the pretty girl beside him as she waves at you good-naturedly. “Madison, this is my roommate and college best friend, Y/N.”

“Taehyung talks about you non-stop,” Madison says with a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the love of your life’s new girlfriend? How else can you salvage this conversation when you already see it going terribly? “You both were really good tonight. I’m happy that I came.”

“Me too!” Taehyung grins. “Did you see me wink at you? I promised you I would.”

You nod, eyes desperately scanning the rest of the room, the rest of the people, the floor, anything to keep from watching as Madison drapes herself over Taehyung, intertwines their hands as she leans against him, like she can’t get enough of him. 

“Hey, do you want to come to the afterparty? It’s at Alex’s house, apparently he has this brownstone in Brooklyn all to himself, I’ve heard it’s gorgeous—”

“No, actually, I have a lot of work that I need to catch up on,” you interrupt. You don’t think you’d last five minutes there, where the only person you know is Taehyung, where he’s got a girlfriend on his arm the entire time. You aren’t even sure how you’re faring now, if you’re even  breathing, standing before him and his equally-gorgeous new partner. 

You just wish everything could go back to normal.

Taehyung’s brows furrow, disappointed. “Oh, you do? But—”

“Yeah, I’m just—I’m really sorry, Tae, you know I want to. But I should get going. It was really nice meeting you, Madison, I hope we can see each other again sometime—” You spew out a few more goodbyes and even more apologies as you rush towards the exit, turning away so you don’t have to see Taehyung calling after you. 

On the way back, you bump into Namjoon, who’s closing up shop for the day. He looks positively exhausted, always working diligently from morning to far past sunset every day, but he smiles when he sees you, setting aside his tired eyes to say hello. 

“Hey, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” he greets. “How are you? How’d it go?” He gives you a sort of grin that means that he thinks it went super well. 

“Not great,” you tell him truthfully, because it’s late and you don’t feel like hiding things anymore. 

“Oh,” Namjoon says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he thinks that none of the things he has to say will go down very well. You know the feeling. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, even though it’s not. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Namjoon asks solemnly. 

You frown. “Do you really think we should both be having this conversation?” Namjoon has his own secrets, his dreams of a short boy with colored hair by his side. “You aren’t much better.”

“No, I’m not,” he muses to himself. “But it is a big deal, Y/N. Please don’t act like it isn’t. You love him, don’t you? Even if he doesn’t love you back.”

You love him. 

It’s not a secret anymore. 

You love him like the stars love the moon, surrounding her in their light, making sure she never gets lonely. You love him like an old Hollywood movie, film faded and worn, getting played once in a while to make sure you never forget where you started. You love him like a flower, carnations, daffodils, chrysanthemums, perking up when you’re around him and wilting when you’re not. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say with a sigh. Certainly, there are more important things to dwell on. You’re looking for a new job because being an office temp isn’t exactly what you were envisioning for your life. You want to start fixing up the bathroom, because the grout by the shower is starting to disintegrate. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip is a fire hazard. “I’m okay with just being friends.”

Namjoon smiles, and it’s so sad, but not with pity. It’s sad with I know, and sad with feeling, because he gets it, and that must be why you’re here, standing on the sidewalk at ten on a Friday night, underneath the street lamps as the city begins to open its eyes. “But when you have him the way you do, how can you be okay with any of it?”

Taehyung comes home late that night, and you only know because you’re running to the bathroom at the same time he fumbles with the door. He takes longer than usual, which means he’s drunk, and you can only hope and pray that he’s alone. You watch as he finally manages to unlock the door, stumbling inside, managing to turn on the main overhead lights in your apartment as he does. From where you’re peering at him from the darkness of the hallway, you can make out dark red, purple spots all along his skin. 

You pull the bathroom door almost shut, leaving it a little ajar so you can gaze out at him, watch as he pours himself a glass of water and downs the entire thing before he makes his way to the hallway, heading for his bedroom. From here, you see the way his hair is mussed, all fucked up from someone’s hands in it, see the marks up close, the way they line his neck, his jaw, his collarbones. He finds his way to his bedroom and shuts the door behind him as you stand, trapped in the bathroom, mad at him for not knowing but furious at yourself for being so ridiculous.

Love was never supposed to hurt like this. 

The next time that you attend one of Taehyung’s opening nights, you don’t stick around long afterwards. 

You were planning on it, of course, like you always do, because ever since college you’ve made a point to see him after a show, tell him all of the things you wish you could say to him all of the time, you were amazing, you were brilliant, you were perfect in every way. You even have a small bouquet of flowers in your hands, arranged by none other than Namjoon—a pity bouquet, an I hope that you two can still be friends bouquet—ready to give to him, ready to see them sitting on your kitchen table as a reminder. 

And then, you see the way he kisses her, overcome with joy, running on that post-show high. You see the way he pulls her into him and plants one on her, arms wrapped around each other as they celebrate, in their own special way. 

Suddenly, the flowers feel like dead weight in your hands. 

You manage to catch one of the few co-stars of Taehyung’s that you recognize, one who was in Our Lives with him. His name is Seokjin, and he’s gorgeous. Broadway material. Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony material. He stops to say hello to you, and you ask if he could give the bouquet to Taehyung, tell him it was from you. 

Seokjin’s nice. He doesn’t ask why, he just nods. It saves you the trouble of telling him. Nobody wants to listen to your sob story. He says goodbye to you, and that he hopes to see you again soon. You hope so too. 

You spend the night curled up in your room pretending that everything is fine. You don’t see Taehyung when he comes home, and you don’t see him the next day, either. 

It’s not as if you’ve started to avoid Taehyung entirely. You live together—it would be downright impressive if you didn’t see each other for a whole day. It’s just, sometimes he still—

“Y/N? Wanna order Pad Thai?”

“Hey, Y/N, they’re playing The Devil Wears Prada on Freeform, do you want to come watch with me?”

“Central Park is having a Dog Festival, do you wanna go together?”

And sometimes, you just can’t. The thought of spending time with him makes your heart ache, whether it be from not wanting to be too close, or from missing him terribly. Either way, you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to muster up the same courage you once had. 

Turning to look at the pressed carnation in the vase atop your dresser, you laugh to yourself. It’s hard to believe that just a few months ago you thought that you would finally be able to tell him, to open up your heart and let him look into it like a kaleidoscope. Hard to believe that there was once a time when you thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved you back. It feels like it was eons ago. Like it was another universe entirely. 

You know that it’s not right for you to do this to Taehyung. He’s still your best friend. He always will be. He has no idea. He’ll never know. 

But sometimes—

Sometimes he comes home love drunk, wasted on kisses, splotches of pink lip gloss decorating his skin. 

Sometimes he spends dinner telling you all about the date he went on, the amazing vodka shrimp linguine he had, as the two of you eat Kirkland spaghetti in your dinky apartment. 

Sometimes he tells you that you’re his best friend, and that he misses you. 

Being in love with Taehyung had always been easy. It was being best friends, and making sure to keep the feelings a secret, that was hard. 

Taehyung isn’t home tonight. You hadn’t asked him where he’d be. You didn’t think that it mattered. 

And you tell yourself, over and over again, that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t need to know where he is every second of every day. He’s got a life outside of what exists in your stuffy apartment, a whole world of people craning to see him. He has reviews written about him in  The New York Times and people lining up outside the theater for his autograph on their Playbill. There’s so much more to his life than what he has with you. 

It’s better this way, you tell yourself, even if it’s not. Even if every time you step into your apartment, glance over at the vase on the kitchen table, you are reminded that it’s worse. Every time you see a damn carnation, daffodil, chrysanthemum, you can’t help but wish that things were different. You’re even starting to avoid Namjoon. 

That night finds you at a small Italian restaurant in a tiny alley off of Ninth Street. You’ve never been, but it had good reviews on Yelp and you could do with spending some time alone, wallowing in your feelings somewhere other than your bedroom. You’re starting to feel suffocated just being there. It would be good for you to get out. 

It would be good for you to get out, because the apartment reeks of what ifs, of what could have beens, and you can’t spend more than five minutes inside without throwing yourself your own personal pity party. You hardly see Taehyung nowadays because you can’t bear looking into his eyes anymore. Everything is awful, and you wish that it wasn’t, but you don’t know what to do to fix it. 

But Fate seems to love doing that thing where it’s out to get you. From the moment you met Kim Taehyung, Fate decided that you would be her next target. That no moment with him would leave you unscathed. And tonight is no exception. 

It’s just your luck that, ten minutes after you’re seated, the bell above the door rings to signal another customer, and you look up to see Taehyung and his girlfriend strolling in, glowing under the warm yellow light. You’ve never been more thankful, in that moment, to be seated right beside the bathroom, just out of sight of the booth that the hostess leads them to. It’s terrible, and it’s terrible, and it’s terrible. You watch as they order two glasses of a fancy rosé and giggle as they cheers to their show, to their lives, and to themselves. They spend the evening in the light of a single exposed bulb above their head, laughing and smiling and talking. 

The craziest part is that once upon a time, that would have been you. You and Taehyung would have decided that the night was a restaurant day and not a stay-at-home-and-cook-meal day. You would have found a quaint little place on Yelp and gotten the cheapest food on the menu. Once upon a time, you looked like that. 

[April 17th, 7:34PM]

Taehyung: [image sent] Taehyung: MMMMM look at this yummy yummy fish that I had tonight!! Taehyung: We should go here sometime!! I think you’d like it hehe

You look down at your plate. The food in front of you tastes like ash. 

“Congrats,” you say when you hear Taehyung leaving his bedroom, feet padding against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Huh?” Taehyung asks, eyes wide. It’s almost as if he’s surprised to see you out here, sitting on the couch, answering emails. Like he can’t believe you’re in your own home. You can’t blame him. “What are you talking about?”

“The review on The New York Times,” you tell him distantly, switching over to the tab on your computer where you read it. There’s a picture at the top of Taehyung and his co-star, front and center, holding hands as they look off into the distance, staring into an unknown future. “It’s your first five star review, isn’t it? They even listed it as the Critic’s Pick.”

“Oh, I… uh,” he begins, “I haven’t seen it yet. Been too busy.”

Bitterly, you wonder why. Even when you two are further apart than you have ever been, even when he spends all day out of the apartment and you spend all day inside, even when you barely fucking see each other, you can’t help but click on the articles that mention him, scroll through every review that mentions his name. 

Things might be different now, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t be proud of him. Of what he does. Of who he is. 

“Well, they said great things,” you tell him, sparing him the trouble of looking. “You deserve it.”

“You’re coming tonight, right? You have to, if the play is getting such good reviews,” Taehyung asks, an olive branch. You’ve spent so much time doing everything you can to keep your relationship as distant as possible, hiding in your bedroom and eating dinner at odd hours. But this is the one thing that you both can still hold onto. Taehyung’s shows, his performances, and you, in the audience, always finding his eyes. If everything else is in shambles, at least you will always have this. “I think you’d like it.”

“It sounds very Matrix-y.”

“Well,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “It sort of is. But it’s also about love. You’d like that, right?”

You suppose you’d like it a little more in another timeline.

Taehyung continues, barely giving himself time to catch his breath. “Basically, these two kids are playing this life-simulation game where every move they make directly corresponds with the actions of the characters they’re playing as. Cue me and Lancaster. And we meet, and slowly fall in love, over a series of chance encounters. You know, a coffee shop, the bank, a restaurant.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowed. 

“Why?” Taehyung’s eyes widen in concern, smile downturned ever so slightly as he takes in your expression. 

“I don’t know—” you begin. There’s just something about the storyline that rubs you the wrong way. “Maybe I’m just being cynical. But is it really possible for two people to find love like that? Through chance? Luck?”

Perhaps, Namjoon would say. You can hear his voice echoing in your head now. After all, wasn’t it luck that brought the two of you together?

You shake his thoughts away. Namjoon’s got his own set of problems—he’s in no position to be the wise one in this scenario.

Taehyung shrugs, as if he’d never given that a thought to begin with. “I don’t know,” he says. “I think that love can blossom anywhere. Just so long as you nurture it, water it and give it lots of sunlight. I just—I think that if you look hard enough, you can find love anywhere.”

You turn to face him, blinking up at him as you stare at each other, sitting on this damn couch in the middle of your apartment. Taehyung waxes poetic in front of you, tells you that if you just fucking look for love, you’ll find it. But he doesn’t know—and he never will. You’ve been looking for love for the past four years, you’ve been searching in all of the nooks and crannies of your body, and the only place you’ve ever found it has been in the deep pit of your heart, dusty and quiet and forgotten. Even now, staring into his eyes, scanning every bit of his irises for even a sliver of it, a spark, you come up empty. 

How could he say something like that, when he lives with you? When he looks at you while you’re eating takeout or sitting and watching a movie together. Does he just not see it? Or worse—does he know, and just refuse to say anything?

Suddenly, your body turns cold. It’s hard to believe that someone as hopelessly romantic can’t see what’s right in front of him. 

“I wish that was how it worked,” you say sourly, the words leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. You snatch your laptop from the table and head into your room, leaving Taehyung alone on the couch, speechless.

He may be the one with flowers blooming in his heart, but you have been drowning for the past four years, and never have you felt further from the surface than right now. 

You don’t go to Taehyung’s opening show that night. 

Taehyung leaves to get ready at the theater at three in the afternoon, and you bid him goodbye before holing yourself up in your bedroom and keeping yourself busy. You start watching the newest season of Stranger Things and tidy up the knick knacks you have scattered all over the place. Anything to keep your mind occupied. 

Taehyung texts you during intermission.

[June 3rd, 8:55PM]

Taehyung: Hey are you here?

You don’t respond. 

By ten at night, you end up with the cleanest room you’ve had in years and half of the season left to watch. It’s not a great kind of busy. The red carnation atop your dresser stares into your soul and you nearly throw it out three different times. But it’s an okay kind of busy, because you don’t know if you could have beared to see Taehyung on stage tonight. See him dancing around with a beautiful girl on his arm, confessing his love for her and pulling her in for a kiss. 

Over the years, you have seen Taehyung kiss so many people. From the shy freshman boy cast next to him in a student-written play in college to the model-esque women on stage in an off-Broadway play with him. And it never used to hurt—not like this. You saw him lock lips with another and you supposed that that was just show business. 

But it’s not show business anymore. It stopped being show business that night, when he came home to an apartment lit up with candles, the sweet scent of macarons wafting through the air, and told you he had found someone. It hasn’t been show business since, not when Taehyung is looking for love and finds it everywhere except where you wish he would look most. 

Maybe you’re just being selfish. Taehyung doesn’t have to love you for you to love him. You knew that. You lived with that. He’s your best friend. He always will be. You can’t do anything to force him to love you back. You had always been fine with just being friends. 

But just—knowing that he doesn’t feel the same. Having that certainty rooted deep within you. That’s the part that hurts the most. 

Taehyung comes home earlier than he normally would on a day like this, catching you in the kitchen as you brew some chamomile tea, hoping that it will calm the waves that crash against the pier inside you. You turn to meet his eyes, and suddenly, you feel like you can’t see anything in them at all. 

“Why didn’t you come tonight?” He demands. “I looked for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“Here,” you tell him. “I was thinking maybe I would go tomorrow.”

“But you’re always at my opening show,” Taehyung says, like you don’t know that already. “Why didn’t you come? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” you tell him. You don’t think you’re drunk or tired enough for this conversation. At ten at night, you’re still cognizant, aware of what consequences this conversation might have when you wake up in the morning. 

“Then why weren’t you there? You know I need you there,” Taehyung pleads, coming up to you as you stand in your kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.

“No, I didn’t know that,” you tell him firmly. You went to his opening shows because it was tradition. Not because it was necessary. 

“You’re my good luck charm, for god’s sake, Y/N,” Taehyung says, fists curled up at his sides. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to burst at the seams, like there are so many things he’s holding at the tip of his tongue. “I did such a shit job tonight without you there. I spent the entire first half of the show looking out into the crowd so much that Lancaster asked me if I had taken anything before we started.”

“That’s not my fault,” you tell him. “I didn’t know that you thought I was your good luck charm, or whatever.” And, because you’re bitter and petty and heartbroken, you add, “I would have thought that would be something your girlfriend is.”

Taehyung loses it. “What’s been going on with you, Y/N? Why are you being like this? Ever since my first show, I feel like we’re drifting further and further apart. You never want to spend time with me, you never want to come to my afterparties, you barely spare a glance at my girlfriends when I introduce them to you, and now, you’ve stopped coming to my shows. All of these things that I thought that we shared, ever since college. Tell me, Y/N, am I doing something wrong? Is there something that I’ve missed? Because it feels like we’re fucking strangers.”

The water finishes boiling, the kettle whistling on the stovetop as steam billows from the spout. “I’m not obligated to do any of those things, Taehyung,” you tell him harshly. “Just because we did them in college doesn’t mean I have to keep doing them now. What, did you think we’d still be doing that sort of stuff when we’re thirty? Forty, fifty? They were just college traditions.”

“‘College traditions’?” Taehyung asks, astounded. “Were all of those nights that we spent together just college traditions, too? Are we not allowed to do those things anymore? I miss you, Y/N. I hate not having you around and tonight was the worst it’s ever been. I don’t know what to do or say, I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t even fucking know what’s broken.”

“I just need space, Taehyung,” you tell him, hands gripping the edge of the countertop as you stare at the laminate, eyes tracing the lines to keep you from meeting his own. “I just need some time to myself, that’s all.”

“But why, Y/N?” Taehyung pleads, He reaches over to grab your hand, holds it in between the two of you like a lifeline. 

“‘Why?’” You echo angrily. “You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?” You tug your hand from his grasp. It’s clear you’re beating a dead horse. You wonder why you even tried in the first place. How naive you were, standing in the kitchen surrounded by scented candles and flowers and macarons, dreaming of a life with him by your side. Foolish. 

“Realized what?” 

“That I’m in love with you!” You shout, and the world goes silent. The kettle stops whistling, the water having evaporated into nothing, the packet of chamomile tea left, forgotten on the countertop. You stand there, breaths heavy, chest heaving, as you look at Taehyung, angry and mad and in love, all at once. 

“You’re what?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” you hiss. “I already know that you don’t feel the same.”

“Y/N, wait—”

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” You turn on your heels, storming into your bedroom and collapsing against the door. Finally, finally, finally, you let the tears wrack your body, sending shivers down your spine. There’s salt on your tongue and smudged liner beneath your eyes. 

You thought pressing flowers makes them last forever. But even the red carnation is starting to shrivel. 

Subject Title: New Project????

From Park, Seojoon, to me

Hi Taehyung,

You did a great job last night in Chance Card! Really proud of you for accomplishing so much. Pretty soon you’ll be on Broadway and be too big for a small manager like me. You’ll need an agent, and a publicist, and a stylist, and a dog-walker…

Anyway, just emailing to let you know that Hugo Cleveland reached out to me to see if you were interested in auditioning for his next play. He personally wanted to see if you liked the part, and would give you preference if you did want to audition. It’s called Cupid, and it’s another one of those modern-day retellings of an old tale. I thought you might like it. Attached is the script and a short description of the play. Let me know if you’d like to give it a shot! I think this might be the project that gets you onto Broadway!!

As always, contact me if you need anything at all.

Park

Taehyung, still in bed despite it being nearly noon, taps around on his phone, pulling up the description of the play. He hates reading PDFs on his phone, so he’ll check out the script on his laptop later. 

Cupid by Hugo Cleveland

Cupid chronicles the tale of the world’s most well known hopeless romantic—Cupid himself. Set in a world of magical realism, Cupid has the power to make two people fall in love with a single shot of his arrow, and spends his life walking around the city of New York, bow and arrow by his side. 

The only problem is that Cupid has no way to make people fall in love with him, because his magic operates under the assumption of soulmates—a single person meant for another. And as the years have gone by, he has searched and searched and searched over millennia, desperate to find love, but it’s almost as if everyone has soulmates except for him. 

Little does he know, he need look no further to find the person he shall spend the rest of his life with—not when his best friend has always been by his side. 

Taehyung glares at the description like it’s personally offended him. He knows that it’s just a coincidence that he happens to receive this email the morning after his fight with you, but he can’t help but feel like God is playing the world’s worst practical joke on him. 

Cursed with the memory of an actor, he replays last night in his head over and over and over again, looping the feed back and forth as your words echo in his mind. 

You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?

He never knew what he was supposed to be looking for. You were just friends, you had always been just friends. But then he looked out in the crowd and couldn’t see you anywhere, couldn’t make out your eyes even in a sea of hundreds like he always does, and it felt like there was more than just another audience member missing. He spent the rest of the evening getting his hopes up, thinking that maybe you’re just sitting somewhere else, maybe you put in colored contacts, maybe you’re hidden by some really buff guy in front of you. 

He missed you, last night. He’s been missing you a lot recently, missing the way the days you spent together would bleed into nights. Missing the way you wrap your arms around him and smother him in cuddles, missing the way you always remember his takeout order for the fifteen different restaurants you frequent. Missing the way he once thought that you could spend your whole lives together. 

Realized what?

He supposes that he has always been a bit foolish. All of his ex-girlfriends broke up with him, never the other way around. And while they all ended on good terms, they all said the same thing to him: it always seemed like his heart belonged to someone else. But he misread that, too. He just thought that he hadn’t found the right person, yet. He would keep searching until he did. 

That I’m in love with you!

The craziest thing about it all is that your confession didn’t even shock him that much. After the initial surprise wore off, it was almost as if the dust settled around you, the storm finally calming. Like finding the last puzzle piece after thinking it had been lost for days. Like feeling everything click into place.

Taehyung has been thinking a lot about last night, but his least favorite part is always this:

I already know that you don’t feel the same.

He wishes that he could have told you. He wishes that he could have been strong enough, could have realized what he had before it slipped through his fingertips. Wishes that he could have reached out and grabbed onto you and never let go. There’s nothing more that he wants to do than see you again. You live in the same tiny New York apartment, and you’ve never felt further away from him. 

Taehyung wills himself out of bed and washes his face, clearing away the leftover makeup and the sleep in his eyes. It’s a fresh start. It’s a new day. 

He sees you standing in the kitchen, making that tea that you had left forgotten last night. He catches your eyes for just a second before he loses them again, watches as you turn your back to him in a desperate attempt to avoid contact. 

“I got a new potential show to audition for,” he says loudly, breaking the silence. 

“That’s cool,” you say, emotionless. 

“Do you want to know what it’s about?”

You don’t respond. Taehyung takes this as a cue to continue. 

“It’s about a boy on a search for love,” Taehyung begins, rallying himself despite only being able to see your back. “And he goes out and sees all of these people falling in love and wants that for himself. And he wonders why nothing is sticking, why he can’t seem to fall in love with anybody. And then he realizes that the reason he can’t seem to fall in love with anyone else is because he’s already found his person.” A pause. He’s just summarizing a story, but this feels like a confession. “His best friend.”

You turn around sharply, tea sloshing in the cup in your hand. Taehyung inhales, then exhales. It’s now or never. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“Don’t you think I’d play this part well?” He asks. 

You shrug, closing your eyes and breathing heavy. He can tell that you’re holding something back, trying not to burst at the seams. “I’m not sure, Tae.”

“I think I would,” Taehyung tells you confidently. He takes a step closer to you, reaches over to take the cup of tea from your hands, placing it on the counter. “Because I’ve been doing it for so long, already.”

You gasp when he kisses you, a gust of air escaping your lips and immediately mixing with his, seize up at the feeling of his lips on yours. Immediately, Taehyung wonders if he’s overstepped a boundary, or two, or five, but then he feels you relax under his touch, feels you reach your hands up to cup his cheeks as you press against him insistently, drunk on the taste of his lips on your own. 

Taehyung’s kissed a lot of people in his day, but this one is different. He’s felt sparks, seen fireworks, but with you, it’s as if he’s sinking into a warm bath after a cold day. As if he’s returning to an apartment filled with the things he loves after a long day out. As if he’s coming home. 

All of these emotions, all of the little things tucked away in the corners of his soul, in the dark attic of his heart, come bubbling up to the surface, and all he can do is hope that you can feel them, swallow them up like wine, as you press your lips against his, grinning. 

Finally, you pull yourself away, almost as if you think you’ll get drunk if you keep going. 

“How long?” You ask. 

Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t know. A while now, definitely.”

“Really?”

“I think so,” Taehyung says. “I guess that I was wrong, what I said before about looking for love. I looked everywhere, I wanted to see it in every spark that was set my way, but I forgot the most important place. I should have known.” You curl into his touch, resting your head against his chest as his arms wrap around your waist. “How about you?”

“Forever,” you breathe out. “It started and it never stopped.”

Taehyung beams. The flowerbud in his heart had been shuttered for so long, hardly watered and never in the sun. And then suddenly, the curtains opened up and the clouds began to cry, and everything blossomed. You make him feel like he’s always home. You make him feel safe. 

You make him feel like a red carnation in bloom.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[effei-s]

anderson and his paradox:

about the duality of a man.

(aka see me rambling in this 1500-words long essay about how much i love him)

the first half of his paradox: he’s more than capable of love. i would even dare to say that love is a driving force behind 99% of his actions.

let’s look at examples:

adam’s mom (aurora):

i’ve said it before, i’ll say it again: he worshiped the ground she walked on. it’s a fact. it’s what adam said about him in unravel me: i know he loved my mom. it was always her, everything was about her.

her death was probably the worst thing that happened to him, the loss that made him truly suffer, hence him constantly talking about how he wants to shield warner from it. that whole thing with lena is not about control itself, it’s about warner not making his own mistakes. there’s a genuine desire to protect there.

evie:

considering how little information is given about them it’s honestly amazing how much there lies between the lines (can mafi write everything the way she’s written them, please?).

they’re the perfect example of my favourite type of soulmates. he’s actually second worst person on this planet, because first place is already taken by her. there’s no one who knows him better then her (she knew about adam = she knew about aurora). there’s no one who understands him better than her (them being two vital parts of the RE from the very beginning). it doesn’t matter how much they fight, he trusts her with his life no questions asked: he comes to her before ignite me and asks her to make him immortal. considering evie’s words in defy me about how she was ready to kill him for trying to kill juliette in unravel me it was very risky of him (because if there’s one person that could slit open his throat and kill him for good, because he let his guard down, it would be evie). he trusts her to do her job and has no doubts about her capability to succeed. his first reaction to her death is ‘what? it can’t be real!’ because evie for him is almost untouchable entity ‘if they couldn’t hurt me, they sure as hell won’t be able to hurt her’. when he realizes that it’s true he’s terrified.

and anderson doesn’t do terrified.

/i really don’t know what can scream LOVE louder than this/

warner:

we can’t not talk about warner here.

warner betrays him and he still saves warner life. you need to remember that the only reason why warner is still alive in defy me, after he committed treason, is because anderson protects him.

by that time in restore me/defy me anderson, who technically lost his position as a supreme, still managed to save warner’s life /because he’s cool like that/.

“I had to call in a number of favors to have you transported here unharmed. The council was going to vote to have you executed for treason, and I was able to convince them otherwise.”

even evie doesn’t dare to fuck with warner because she knows anderson will come at them with the wrath of god.

“If Aaron were anyone else’s son,” she says, “I would’ve had him executed. I’d have him executed right now, if I could. Unfortunately, I alone do not have the authority.”

anyone else’s son.

so yeah the problem here is not that warner is one of the heirs of the RE. the problem here is that he’s anderson’s son.

plus his entire conflict with juliette is rooted in the fact that she

a) tried to hurt warner

unravel me:

I cannot allow him to protect a person who has attempted to kill him.

restore me:

The monster we’ve bred has tried to kill my own son.

b) tried to take warner from him.

restore me:

Worse, she’s become a distraction for Aaron. He’s become—in a toxic turn of events—impossibly drawn to her, with no apparent regard for his own safety. I have no idea what she’s done to his mind.

and then in imagine me he declines warner’s offer.

“You would be willing to sacrifice yourself—your youth and your health and your entire life—to let that damaged, deranged girl continue to walk the earth? Do you even understand what you’re saying? You have every opportunity—all the potential—and you’d be willing to throw it all away? In exchange for what?Do you even know the kind of life to which you’d be sentencing yourself ?”

/i dare you to tell me he didn’t love warner, i dare you/

juliette:

as a cherry on top, there’s juliette, of course.

when we’re talking about hate we’re talking about juliette, no questions asked. i truly believe that his hatred for her was stronger than his love for aurora and evie combined. and still what brings him down for good is not hate for her but adoration of her (oh irony, my irony).

after 12 years of hatred, after 12 years of her being ‘the bane of his existence’, he still ended up spending his dying breath to make sure she will be safe.

“I ordered you to remain silent,” he says, glancing back at her. “And I am now ordering you to remain safe, at all costs. Do you hear me, Juliette? Do y—”

“Kill them,” Anderson gasps, blood staining the edges of his lips. “Kill them all. Kill anyone who stands in your way.”

just like defy-me warner, imagine-me juliette survives ONLY because of anderson.

he even apologized to her at one point.

“You know, I realize now that I’ve been too hard on you. I’ve put you through too much. Tested your loyalty perhaps too much. But you and I have a long history, Juliette. And it’s not easy for me to forgive. I certainly don’t forget.”

anderson??? admitting??? that??? what??? he??? did??? was??? wrong???

and not because he needs to get off the hook, but because he actually feels like it was too much???

ALERT THE MASSES, THE WORLD NEEDS TO HEAR ABOUT IT!!!

btw, do my eyes deceive me, or did this ‘not easy to forgive’ mean that he actually already FORGAVE her for trying to kill him?

anyhow if that wasn’t enough look at this:

“What could possibly go wrong?” Anderson asks. “She’s more powerful than any of them, and completely obedient to me. To us. To the movement. You all know as well as I do that she’s proven her loyalty again and again. She’d be able to capture them in a matter of minutes.”

do you see it?

it’s the same thing that happened with evie: no one here is strong enough to hurt her (oh, i can see some PROJECTIONS here happening).

it’s funny how the way Anderson acts is EXACTLY what I expected from Warner. he isn't just talking about how she can do anything, when moment comes he ACTS.

Anderson is guarding Juliette. The same Anderson who’s spent so much of his energy trying to murder her—is now standing in front of her with his arms out, guarding her with his life.

i’d still prefer for her or him to kill ibrahim but even without it... he says you can burn this place to the ground, I don’t care as long as you’re safe, he chooses her over not only the RE, he chooses her over WARNER.

/and you expect me not to ship this??? sure, jen, i’m not gonna/

conclusion number 1: yes, my beautiful people, everything Anderson does in one way or another tied to love.

the second half of his paradox: love doesn’t make him a better person, it doesn’t even make him fully human. you’d think that if person capable of such strong feelings there’s supposed to be something worth saving, just like castle’s said:

“Of course he’s a regular person, son. That’s exactly the point. We’re all just regular people, when you strip us down. There’s nothing to be afraid of when you look at Anderson; he’s just as human as you or me. Just as terrified. And I’m sure if he could go back and do his life over again, he’d make very different decisions.”

(castle is a fucking idiot, never listen to people like him or you’re gonna end up neck-deep in shit)

but at the end of the day anderson remains a fucking monster.

his love for aurora doesn’t stop him from marrying another woman and having a child with her because it’s the easiest way to social climb.

his love and devotion to evie and re (mostly evie, because evie is the reestablishment) doesn’t stop him from playing games with juliette and putting everything and everyone at risk just because he’s bored.

i won’t even start commenting on warner’s situation, because otherwise we’re gonna sit here for days and i’ll end up with 100k words essay about them.

and even his enamourment with juliette doesn’t actually protect her from his violent nature. even this perfect, absolutely perfect juliette still has to prove herself (cut off her finger to show her loyalty). it still very easy for him to hurt her.

conclusion number 2: him being in love, him caring about someone, him trusting someone doesn’t change his fundamental nature. he still remains a destructive force put into a human body.

he’s a fucking satan.

and that’s exactly why i love him.

[softjaehyvn]

[dusk till dawn ; w.yh]

[genre ; angst, fluff]

[warnings ; accusation of cheating]

- requests open ! check out this post !

You truly couldn’t believe that this was happening.

His eyes shining with tears; some of them rolling down his cheeks and softly landing on his neck and getting soaked by his shirt. This single moment was breaking your heart and you knew exactly that he was feeling the same.

“Xuxi, please, can you listen to me for a minute? Let me explain”, you told him. You trying to keep your voice soft and steady so he wouldn’t see how you felt at this moment. You weren’t fine and you felt like you had done the worst thing ever by making Yukhei cry. 

Yukhei always had been a very vulnerable person. Easy to break if you knew his weakness – his insecurity about not being good enough. The only people he truly trusted were his group mates, you and one girl from middle school back from Hong Kong. 

Now he – well more like Lihua, who was his best friend long before you knew Yukhei – accused you of cheating on him with some guy – more specifically, Dejun. That wasn’t true; all you were doing was secretly planning out his birthday party. 

Of course, Lihua had to ruin everything by taking pictures of you laughing with the young man at a coffee shop and checking some more ideas as inspirations for your boyfriend’s birthday party where all his members were going to be at. Now, when Yukhei showed you those pictures on his phone, you couldn’t believe that there was someone who wanted to ruin your relationship. Lihua was well aware of what was going on between Dejun and you – but she pretended like she didn’t. 

“What do you want to explain? Everything is obvious – you seem like having a lot of fun with Dejun, don’t you?” Yukhei’s voice was loud and angry… or was it disappointment?

“Baby, please listen to me”, you tried once again, taking the phone out of his hand to place it on the table. You finally put your hands on his cheeks, brushing his tears away. “If you listen to me, you’ll understand.”

Your heart broke into so many pieces when he backed off to grab his phone and jacket and left your shared apartment with no other word. 

If he just would have listened to you.

two days ago

“Alright, ready for more headaches and caffeine overdose because of exhaustion?”, Dejun asked you with a grin when you two entered the coffee shop you two loved to stay in and plan your boyfriend’s birthday. 

“Yeah, sure. Caffeine overdose – we love it”, you giggled and sat down at your usual spot. Dejun took out his MacBook and opened the website you two had last visited. “So, we just need to start ordering everything, right? Did you get the money from the boys?”, you asked him to which he nodded. 

“Everything on your bank account. I thought it’d be better if you’d have it to order everything. We’re going to get everything today, right?”, you smiled lightly when you nodded.

“I guess? His birthday is in two weeks and I think that’s enough time to prepare everything, right? I mean, we already planned everything out”, Dejun nodded as an answer, so you both decided to get everything already so that would be finally done as well. 

Then it was all simply about waiting for the packages to arrive. Dejun and you didn’t want to skip your little coffee meet-up’s so you continued going to the small shop whenever the young man had time to. However, little did you know that Lihua ended up going to the same café as you. 

now

“Alright, good, I’m glad that he’s safe at the dorm”, you sighed and nervously walked around the small apartment, trying to process what had just happened. It had been around an hour since Yukhei hurriedly had left the apartment, leaving you all by yourself there. 

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry about him”, Kun reassured you and the knowledge that your boyfriend was somewhere safe made you feel a little less worried. Of course, all you could think of was making him understand that you weren’t cheating on him with Dejun, however, you decided to let Yukhei just in peace for a few days and try reaching out for him then. 

You didn’t expect him to block you on every social media account possible so you just couldn’t reach out to him. It was a surprise for you – Yukhei never blocked you, no matter how extreme your fight was. However, you assumed that it was related to Lihua as the girl had recently moved to Seoul for her university and spent a lot of time with your boyfriend. 

You never had a reason to believe Yukhei might be cheating on you. You let him have his freedom and fun with his childhood best friend and members whenever he wanted and needed it – and it was making you mad that it only needed a picture where you were spending time with one of your closest friends to make him feel insecure about himself. 

You always trusted him, never doubted when he said that Lihua was just an old friend who needed to find a connection in a new city and country. 

A relationship was built over trust and love. 

You just weren’t quite sure what you could have done wrong that he didn’t trust you. 

Two days before it was finally Yukhei’s birthday, a lot of packages arrived at your place. Knowing that those were everything you needed for the small party, you called Dejun to let him know that everything arrived and that he should inform the rest to help you carry the stuff to the company.

However, it wasn’t Dejun who picked up. It was your boyfriend. 

“So, you still have the guts to call him? You’re so messed up, Y/N, I can’t believe I trusted you”, Yukhei said, his voice was so cold that it slightly terrified you. 

“Xuxi, love, it isn’t what you think it is… just give him the phone”, you asked him, but never got a reply. You then noticed that he had hung up and sighed. You had no idea who you could call when you remembered that you also had Kun’s phone number saved. 

You couldn’t call him, though. If Yukhei picked up on Dejun’s call, he most likely was at the company or in the dorm. You assumed that Kun was with him which is why you just texted Kun to let one of the boys know that you needed help with everything you and Dejun had ordered. 

He replied quickly that he would ask the younger members to come over and help you out, it would just take around two hours as they were recording at that moment. You felt a little sorry for stressing the younger ones out but it was necessary. 

“Thank you guys again. I’m so sorry for pushing your limits. As soon as we get to the company, I’ll treat you to some food”, you promised the young members of the group. 

“Sure!”, Jeno accepted for all of the six boys and continued walking carefully towards the car. “I hope this will make hyung happy.”

“Was he doing alright today?”, you asked nervously, you were constantly worried about him, especially after you had called Dejun which Yukhei had picked up. Jaemin shook his head, though. 

“Not really. He seemed so off today, always messed up the choreography and we just couldn’t get forward today. Seems like this whole thing burdens him. Taeyong hyung is all around him, though, don’t worry”, Jaemin answered. Knowing Taeyong, you breathed out in relief. 

“Thank you, Jaemin”, you thanked him with a soft smile, this one – unlike the ones before – actually reached your eyes. “I hope I can make him understand that Dejun and I have nothing going on… I don’t even know what made him lose his trust. I never did anything that could be the reason for him to doubt me.”

“I’m sure you will get through this… but I think you should try to keep Lihua noona away from him because I think she has something to do with this. She kept on coming into our practice room and interrupting him because she wasn’t sure about something? It was so weird, she kept on asking him but it was just weird that she didn’t ask anyone else like Kun was in his studio or Dejun was also there who could help her”, Jaemin explained. 

That got you into thinking. Lihua was the one who sent those pictures to Yukhei. She was all clingy to your boyfriend. You never said anything to Yukhei as you didn’t want to seem like a jealous girlfriend. 

“I guess, I never noticed that she was like this… I’ll see what I will do”, you told him and smiled before you got into the car. Then you started driving to the company building where everything would be stored until Yukhei’s birthday. When you arrived back at home, you just sat there, thinking about Yukhei and that was the only thing you did that day.

Finally, it was the day where you could go to the company building and would decorate everything like you and Dejun had planned everything out. Dejun had practice, so you purposely asked Lihua to help you out. Along with her, you had asked Kun to come over, so you could keep yourself from directly confronting her. 

“Thanks for helping me out”, you smiled; it was a fake smile, though. “I couldn’t have finished this all by myself.”

“No problem. Xuxi is my childhood best friend, I’d do anything for him”, Lihua just brushed it off. 

“So… anything?”, you chuckled but remained silent when you received a warning glance from Kun. However, you couldn’t hold yourself back and asked another question because you wanted to know. “Why did you send Yukhei those pictures of me and Dejun?”

Lihua widened her eyes, not expecting that question. She had thought that it was all over with you and Yukhei; she thought her plan worked out. 

“I just thought he should know that you two spent time together. He told me that he wasn’t sure where you went so when I saw you there, I decided to let him know so he wouldn’t be worried.”

That was a lie. You had told Yukhei that you would go to your favorite coffee shop to work on something for university. The university part was a lie, yes, but he did know that you were at the coffee shop. 

“That was none of your business, Lihua. You knew exactly that I was going to meet up with Dejun just for Yukhei’s birthday. However, you decided to be a little bitch about it and now my boyfriend thinks I was cheating on him, while I was just trying to make this day special for him”, you got mad with every single second you have been talking to Yukhei’s best friend and at some point, Kun just stepped in. The male suggested that you should check up on Yukhei and see if he still ignores you while he and Lihua would continue decorating the practice room. 

So, you did as you were told, still not calmed down while you walked through the whole building and searching for Yukhei. Your boyfriend was recording right now, so you decided to ask the producer if you could just sit there on the couch, to which he agreed. Most of the workers around knew you and you were comfortable with just sitting there with them, listening to your boyfriend practicing his lines before recording. 

When he noticed you, he didn’t react quite the way you expected him to. Yukhei was furious when he got out of the small room and you jumped up when you saw him walk towards you. “What the hell are you doing here?”, he asked; even the producer startled at his harsh, loud tone. 

“I just wanted to see you… you haven’t come home for the past two weeks so I was worried about you”, you murmured, but it was loud enough for him to hear. “So, now you were worried about me? You didn’t think of me when you secretly met up with Dejun!“

“It wasn’t… It wasn’t what you were thinking, Yukhei. Please just… listen to me and just come with me, yeah? I have to show you something, then you’ll understand”, you begged, taking his hand into yours. You had received a message from Kun that everyone had arrived at the practice room and decorating was also done, so you could finally take your boyfriend there.

“Please.”

Yukhei sighed and nodded then. You would never speak like this if you didn’t know what you were talking about.

You smiled lightly and took his hand to bring him towards the practice room. “What are we doing here, Y/N?”, he asked you and you just shushed him. 

“We’re comin’ in!”, you yelled and quickly pulled your boyfriend inside when everyone started yelling “happy birthday!” Yukhei was startled when the chaos broke off. 

“This… what?”, Yukhei just blurted out. “This was what you’ve been hiding from me?”

“And this was why Dejun and I always met up secretly”, you explained. “I couldn’t tell you because I still wanted it to be a surprise so… yeah.” You chuckled lightly. “Look, I never meant to do any harm. I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise and Dejun was so helpful with organizing and choosing everything for this because I wanted you to have a special day. I didn’t think that someone would just take our pictures and send them to you so you could find out. I’m sorry for lying to you and I’m so sorry-“

Yukhei interrupted you by placing his lips on yours, just stopping you from talking and you finally leaned into the kiss. Before he stepped away he softly murmured an “I love you” and finally turned towards his birthday cake and blew off the candles. 

Wong Yukhei finally realized that you would always love him unconditionally forever; be with him from dusk till dawn.

hi there! i finally managed to finish this one off! i really liked the idea of the plot i wrote for the song suggestion “dusk till dawn” by sia and zayn by anon! this also kind of is a late lucas day post which i didn’t manage to finish on time. so, i truly hope u enjoyed and please like, reblog and share! it would mean a lot to me!

tags ; @wownajaemin​ @n8dlesoupguk​ @hunjins​ (let me know if u want to be tagged to future posts!)

[sakusascandle]

hiiiiii! i hope you’re having a amazing day! could you please write hcs for akaashi, ushijima, bokuto, and atsumu with a s/o who has really bad social anxiety and how they help them with it? thank you!

a/n:  i hope you’re having a great day too! you have no idea how much i love this one :(((( i have rlly bad social anxiety too so this was another huge comfort for me to write 

⤿ characters included: akaashi, ushijima, bokuto and atsumu

⤿ contents: comfort, social anxiety, anxiety attacks

requests are opened!

masterlist

-ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ

- While he doesn’t completely understand your situation, he will definitely try to help you ease your anxiety in any way possible. If you’re anxious out of public and he notices, he’d typically hold your hand in his and rub his thumb through the skin on your hand.

- If you’re anxious about upcoming events, or thinking about all the terrible outcomes of a specific situation, because this man is direct and speaks the truth no matter the events, he’s able to easily reassure you. He sees situations in a literal way, so you’d never see him sugar coat your worries and then you feel much calmer compared to previous state.

- He’d rarely ever force things upon you, if there is anything regarding social activity that you were frightened of engaging in, he’d make sure that you wouldn’t feel pressure to say anything. If you were too disturbed to order somewhere he’d gladly do it no questions asked.

- He’s a very attentive and a great listener, you feel like you can talk about your problems without any worries dancing around in your mind. The amount of patience this man has is amazing, he makes sure that you’re doing alright and that your anxiety levels are at a stable level. 

- I don’t know why but I just know this guy is good with directions. If you feel like a public crowd is too overwhelming for you and that you need a quick escape, he will notice your distressed condition and whisper, “do you need to go to a quieter place? I know a route we can take from here.” 

- Overall, even if he doesn’t understand it too much, he will always make sure to treat you like a priority and take care of your anxiety the best way he possibly can.

-ᴀᴋᴀᴀsʜɪ

- He’d understand your feelings completely, he knows exactly what it feels like to have anxiety and is aware about how it’s stressing you out. Since he’s quite analytical about behaviors, he’d know immediately that you were uneasy.

- If you were anxious about a phone call, he’d make sure to hold your hand throughout the whole duration of that call. If your anxiety levels started to rise in a scary pace, he’d nod his head and silently inform you that you were doing a great job.

- In public, if you felt an attack coming up, Akaashi reminds you to squeeze his hands as hard as possible, he’d tell you, “breathe okay? You’re doing such a great job, I’m so proud of you.”

- He always wants you to know that if you ever feel anxious, you can speak to him about it, whatever time, whatever place. He wants to try solve your problems and ease your anxiety in the most effective way.

- Akaashi would give you a small, cute looking object. Just in case there are situations where he isn’t able to speak to you during an anxious period, he wants you to look at his gift as a reminder to breathe and as a reminder that everything will be alright.

- He’d never mind cancelling plans, ever. He’d simply just come over and you two could just spend the night at home. Your well being to him is so important and he wants to make sure that you feel safe and secure at all times.

-ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ

- Since Bokuto is a naturally outgoing person and incredibly social, he definitely would try make you feel as comfortable as possible. If you were anxious in a social setting he’d never force you to talk, but I can see him trying to mention you during these social settings so you feel like you don’t need to speak much. He’d always make sure that these social kinda greetings are not overwhelming for you and tries to make sure to let you know that it’s safe to talk. But of course he wouldn’t force you to do so.

- He’s an emotionally intelligent guy, even if he rarely gets anxious in social situations, he could tell when you were. He’d pull you into a warm hug, that feels so comforting and feels like a security bubble. He’d gently rub your back, reminding you how proud he is and that you’re safe with him,

- He tones down his bubbly and hyper self when he notices that you’re not feeling too good. He’s a highly empathetic guy,  he will talk with you and he’d try to distract you with conversation topics to make your mind at ease.

- He’d try to get you out of your shell from time to time, with baby steps. He’d do small things at a time, just to make sure that you were comfortable with the pace. If you called and were at an incredibly high level, if he could, he would come over to your home that instant and then would be ready to give all of his attention and try to lower your anxiety levels. But if he was busy and couldn’t come, he’d talk to you over the phone gently, and try to talk to you about your problem.

 -ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ

- It took him some time to find out about your anxiety, but once he does he becomes more protective and more aware about what triggers your distress. He wouldn’t ever mind about cancelling plans because you just didn’t want to go out.Like Bokuto, he’d also come over with your comfort foods and you two would just watch movies for hours on end. 

- He’d definitely tone down his teasing whenever he notices that you don’t feel too good. He’d make some lighthearted jokes, pull you into a hug and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, just to make you feel even a tiny bit better.

- He gets so soft when he’s around you, when he’s comforting you, he’d always try to reassure you that you’re not embarrassing yourself in public. If you weren’t comfortable with talking to people in restaurants and other situations like that, he’d make sure that he’d do most if not all of the talking. 

- Would make sure that your surroundings aren’t overwhelming for you, if you do get an anxiety attack in public he’d help you count and would help you with your breathing to ease your troubled state. 

- He’s aware that his fangirls will crowd him to an overwhelming and scary extent, it happens every now and then and it’s absolutely terrifying. But he’d try to get you two to a quieter area and if it gets out of hand he wouldn’t hesitate to harshly scold whoever invades your privacy. 

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Fred with a Malfoy reader:

Warnings: Angst, kind of sad, nsfw thoughts, set in a non voldemort world

Note: I KEEP THINKING OF FRED. HELP. ME.I’VE FALLEN DOWN A RABBIT HOLE AND I CAN’T GET UP

You were Draco's older sister

And already the family disappointment.

Do you know why?

Because you're the one Malfoy who isn't Slytherin

You're actually a hufflepuff.

Lucius clearly favors Draco and it gets to you sometimes.

You're very protective over your brother.

You constantly butt heads with Potter

Draco absolutely loathed it when you'd go all big sister on him in public.

There was one day where you had to separate Harry from a fight with Draco and who pulled Harry back but Fred.

Fred walked up to you afterwards saying "Hey. Sorry about Harry."

You chuckled and nodded. "Sorry about my brother. He tends to get on people's nerves."

Fred smiled "Mind if I sit here?" He asked.

You nodded and he sat next to you.

"So you're Draco's sister... And you're a hufflepuff?" He asked.

You sucked in a breath at that sentence, gripping your glass.

Fred noticed that look.

Pure resentment to that phrase.

"Do you enjoy hogwarts?" Fred asked, cutting your attention away.

"... It's my home." You muttered.

"it's that for a lot of people." Fred nodded.

You took a long sip of your drink.

"Why the sudden curiosity?" You asked.

"Well... I actually didn't know Draco had a sister until four hours ago." Fred admitted.

"Really? You didn't realize the Malfoy's had a massive disappointment?" You asked sarcastically.

"Why would they be disappointed?" Fred asked.

You gave him a "really?" Look before motioning to the table he was sitting at and then your robes.

"... They're upset over a factor you had no control over?" Fred asked.

"Pretty much." You said.

"That's rubbish." He scoffed.

"Try telling that to von douchebag-- I mean father." You said making Fred smile.

Fred finding his way to you was quickly becoming a regular thing

He'd usually sit with you at dinner getting to know the little of pieces of you that many people didn't even bother to see

Draco frowned noticing you and Fred

He pulled you aside.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing!?" Draco asked.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Father's already pissed about the house but friends with a Weasley!? Are you out of your mind!?" Draco asked.

"....I don't care." You said.

Yeah so your third year was the year you basically gave up trying to please your father

Draco was honestly anxious about it.

You were his sister. He might not say it but he loves you.

He definitely noticed the nights that you and Lucius would argue and you'd have meltdowns in the hallway.

The thing was: if Draco cried, you, Lucius or Narcissa would come running.

You had only Draco who'd be concerned.

So when you gave up trying to be the perfect daughter Draco feared that Lucius would be pissed.

Which he was when he caught wind of who you spent your time with.

He found out from Arthur that Fred had been spending a lot of time with one of his children.

And Lucius immediately knew who it was.

He came to you pissed.

"What in the hell are you thinking spending time with a Weasley!?"

You did something you never did before.

You actually rolled your eyes.

"You're acting like a child father." You said sharply.

"Excuse me!?" Lucius asked.

"You feud with them, yet you don't actually know them. Just because they have low status doesn't mean they're not worth your time." You snapped.

He threatened to send you to Durmstrang and you actually said "Oh I wish you would because at least I wouldn't be here!"

You went back to school and Draco was keeping very close to you.

He honestly wanted to spend enough time with you if you were really going to go to a different school.

Fred noticed you doing slightly self destructive things and asked Draco what exactly was going on.

Draco told him everything figuring Fred could talk some sense into you.

And Fred did.

He found you sitting in the astronomy tower one day.

"Hey." You said.

He sat across from you

"Hey." Fred said.

"What brings you to me?" You asked making him chuckle.

"I wanted to talk to you." Fred said.

He asked you what was going on.

You danced around the subject but ultimately failed.

"Y/n I know Lucius is mad." Fred said.

You dropped any fragments of a smile and looked away.

You two just sat in silence for a while

"Do you know what it's like to feel so alone even though you're surrounded by people?" You finally asked looking at Fred with this expression that honestly almost broke the boy.

"I feel that every time I have to go home. My own father is ashamed of me because I couldn't keep up with his standards, my mother doesn't even try to know me. My little brother is the one having to check on me when one of my parents gets angry." You said.

"I'm alone and that's terrifying." You whispered with tears falling down your face.

Fred said nothing, hugging you to his chest.

You just held onto him and that was when Fred gained this protective nature over you. 

You stopped the self destructive habits and relaxed a bit on the “Let’s piss off Dad” bit.

Draco eased up a lot on you hanging out with Fred and George now, seeing as Fred obviously provided comfort to you. 

George began to really love having you around, considering you called yourself “THE BRINGER OF CHAOS” But was too terrified to order anything in Hogsmeade because you were socially awkward

“Ah yes, the bringer of chaos seems to have had trouble yet again with her drink order.” George teased.

“Okay, first off: Fuck you. Second off: Ordering is hard okay!?” You said, earning snorts from Fred and George

Fred invited you to come over for the summer

You were determined to go but Lucius basically told you “If you go, the door here is never open to you again.” 

Draco gave you a look that just said “Y/n. Do it.” 

And you did. No hesitation as Lucius basically disowned you. 

So you left, family ring resting on the dining table along with a letter to Draco.

When you showed up to the Burrow the weight of what happened hit you as you walked in.

Fred saw you and hugged you and for some reason that made you breakdown sobbing.

The whole family was naturally concerned.

I mean, you did just show up and start crying.

Fred didn’t even ask what was wrong, he just held you. 

Then he noticed the absence of your family ring. 

“Y/n... Where’s your ring?” He asked. 

“I-I... I-I’ve been disowned.” You finally admitted making Molly exchange a look with Arthur that screamed “This is our kid now”

Fred was PISSED though at Lucius

When you went to bed Fred and George sat at a table with their parents and talked.

“I’m going to kill that man if I ever see him!” Fred snapped. 

“Freddie!” Molly scolded. 

“Oh come on mum, you have to admit, even for this man this is low.” George agreed. 

“I have to side with the boys on this one, there is no excuse to give up on a child.” Arthur nodded. 

“I cannot believe he did this! How can you not love Y/n!? She’s literally one of the sweetest people on the face of the planet.” Fred griped making Molly, Arthur and George all look at Fred

Did he just... Imply that he loved you?

“What?” Fred asked, noticing the looks. 

“Nothing! just... We’ve never seen you so focused on someone.” Arthur said. 

“Just makes me wonder if you like Y/n.” George muttered. 

“Wha-- no!” Fred denied

But that one little comment kept that boy up for days

He didn’t like you. Right?

Although... He did notice the cute little habit of biting your lip when you read

Or the fact that you always tucked your hair behind your ear when you felt someone watching you

Or that beautiful laugh that would make Fred smile every time he heard it

Or the smile that could light up a room

Fuck. Maybe he did like you.

George noticed the sleeplessness that started with Fred

He even commented on it at one point but Fred ignored it.

One night confirmed Fred’s thought on liking you. 

He again, could not sleep. So he sat outside.

You came outside with two mugs filled with hot cocoa.

“Saw you out here and figured you could use this.” You said sitting next to him. 

You looked at the stars with Fred and that was the moment that boy fell and he fell HARD.

The way your eyes just reflected the stars, the way your lips parted 

the way the braid in your hair, pulled it back so your face was visible

The look in your eyes when you looked at Fred

Oh that boy was HOOKED man.

When you went back to Hogwarts you ran into Lucius at the station.

The Weasley children all looked ready to straight up kill Lucius when he looked over at you. 

You expected Draco to ignore you but the second he saw you he hugged you. 

He was taller now. 

God you missed your little brother

The good thing about Hogwarts was: Lucius was no where near you, so you could spend as much time with your little brother as you wanted. 

Draco sat with you guys on the train, telling you basically what happened after you left

You were surprised to hear that Lucius actually couldn’t even look in the direction of your room

You were even more surprised to hear that Narcissa refused to let any house elves remove anything from it either. 

There was a part of you that wanted to return. But then you remembered that empty feeling of when you were there and you pushed it down. 

Draco was now more involved with the Weasleys 

They didn’t mind. 

At least someone in your family was actively showing that they cared about you. 

There were a lot more... Moments popping up with you and Fred though that were making everyone watch you two 

Specifically one where Fred grabbed a book you couldn’t reach and when you turned around you two were close

When I say close I mean you could feel his breath on your cheek close. 

You also had this cute little thing where Fred would steal your books and you’d have to jump on his back for them 

You could crawl up that boy like a God damn spider monkey 

A part of you wanted to climb him in a different way

He’d always make you smile, without fail. 

Sometimes you’d have these little moments where it was honest to God a wonder you two weren’t dating

Like the time that Fred almost had you pinned against a wall, faces centimeters apart as he handed you back your books after taking them

Or the winks he’d give you

Or the fact that he sometimes would just pick you up from behind and make you giggle.

Even Draco was waiting for one of you to FUCKING SAY SOMETHING

That day finally came when George had this funny little game to play

Ever heard of the game “Red light”?

Here’s the rules: You have to basically play the game to make a person feel uncomfortable enough that they say “RED LIGHT” 

Here’s the thing: You’re a spiteful bitch and so is Fred

Everyone else playing would crack.

So when it was just down to you two Fred had to make you uncomfortable

He leaned in, very close to you and kept a hand rested on your knee

Your face had this smirk on it as Fred inched closer to you

That’s when you pulled an uno reverse card on the bastard and kissed his nose, making his eyes go wide. 

Two could play at that game though.

Fred kissed your cheek

You kissed his cheek.

He kissed your nose, something inside you snapped and you yanked that fucker forward by his tie and kissed him. 

Everyone in the room was losing their shit as Fred parted with you.

The look you two gave each other when he parted was “Wait did that actually just happen?”

But to your surprise Fred actually kissed you again making everyone go ballistic 

When the game ended you had no idea if the events that took place were because of Fred actually wanting to kiss you or if it was just to win

Fred was going through the same thing

Finally you two talked after Fred ran into you in the library

You two talked while you were grabbing a few books for class. 

“About the kiss...” Fred finally said.

“What about it?” You asked, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice 

“I... I really meant it when I kissed you Y/n. I like you.” He finally said.

You turned around with wide eyes. 

“You do?” You asked

“How could I not-- Y/n you’re amazing. Truly captivating.” He told you. 

You turned back around to hide the blush on your face.

“I like you too Fred.” You said, a grin appearing on the boy’s face. 

You reached for a book and he picked it up for you, handing it to you.

You slowly turned around, again the boy’s face centimeters away from yours as you looked in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck it.” He muttered, dropping the book and kissing you. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and he swore if you two weren’t at risk of getting caught, chances are you two would’ve done A LOT more than just making out. 

You two dated though, Fred now never being seen without you. 

The group was relieved when you finally did start dating, honestly they were surprised that didn’t happen until AFTER the game

You absolutely loved Fred though, no question about it. 

Draco was glad to finally see you truly happy.

Was he happy you were dating a Weasley? Hell no. but if you were happy, nothing was going to be said about it. 

Summers were honestly a fun time. 

in... multiple ways... *cough* you two totally slept together *cough*

FAMILY FUN! WOOH!

But there was this one specific moment that Fred knew he was going to marry you one day

You were watching the sunset, wearing this yellow sundress

Ginny braided your hair that morning and it rested on your shoulder as you stared at the scenery

Fred was helping his mother with the laundry and he noticed you, smiling

You felt someone watching you so you turned around, a breeze kicking up as you turned

The sun on your face with stray strands of hair and that beautiful smile made Fred melt. 

He just knew “This is my future wife, I dare you to change my fucking mind.”

So graduation was approaching and Fred had already made up his mind, he was marrying you. 

But he wanted to play this right.

So he went to the crowned king of douchebag himself- Lucius Malfoy

He was so official, going as far to set up an appointment with this fucker. 

Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and him sat in his study in complete silence for a LONG time, mostly Fred resisting the urge to absolutely pop off at him

“Why are you here Weasley?” Lucius finally asked

Fred took in a breath. “I want to marry your daughter.” He said.

Draco looked at Fred surprised. 

“What?” Lucius asked. 

“I want to Marry Y/n. I know you hate me, I honestly couldn’t care less about that. But I hope you’ll set aside those emotions because I love your daughter.” Fred finally said. 

Draco looked at Fred and then Lucius. 

“Lucius.” Narcissa said. 

He seemed to be pondering before letting out a LONG sigh

“you have my blessing.” He finally said

“I’m willing to fight you on-- wait really?” Fred gaped

“Yes. While I’m not exactly happy about this, you’ve provided Y/n with a haven. You’ve made her happy. I can’t make up for the time I spent fighting with her but I can try to fix the bond now. Starting with this.” Lucius said making Draco gape. 

“Thank you.” Fred said relieved. 

“When are you proposing?” 

Shit. He hadn’t thought that out yet. 

“... I’m not sure.” Fred admitted. 

“Next week!” Draco said. 

Everyone turned to him

“You graduate next week, I have an idea for you.” Draco said

This kid’s idea was fucking smart too. 

Take you stargazing. Spend quality time with her. And then when it feels right, propose. 

And Fred took that advice to heart

After graduation you went back to the Burrow to find your father, mother and brother waiting

“Father?” You gaped. 

You two had a long overdue conversation. It was emotional and hard. But the words “I’m proud to see the woman you’ve become” Made you nearly break down

Was your relationship with Lucius fixed? Fuck no. You still had this piece of you that wasn’t ready to trust him

But at least now he was trying.

You all celebrated together

You found it strange that Draco and George seemed to know something you didn’t

You shrugged it off though and just spent the time laughing and smiling

When everyone tired themselves out Fred and you went outside looking at the stars

You had his arms wrapped around you staring at the stars with this peaceful smile. 

He let go of you at one point and you rose a brow turning around to see him on one knee

“Oh my god” You gaped

:”Y/n--” “Yes” “Would you do--” “Yes” “The honor of being my wi--” “Yes- sorry” “The honor of being my wife--” “YES”

you tackled him into a hug, kissing his face with a smile 

Everyone heard you make a loud noise outside, Draco and George both smiling because they knew exactly what just happened.

Charlie, Bill and Percy popped in confusing the fuck out of the rest of the family, what the hell was going on?

You finally walked back in and had this MASSIVE smile on your face. 

“I proposed.” Fred said making everyone else stand up.

“I said yes!” You squealed making everyone practically scream. 

lots of crying from Molly 

And Ron

You two got married soon after and the store was finally opened

You, Fred and George ran it together

The shop was always filled with smiles and laughter

Lucius and Narcissa would come over for the holidays

You swore once you saw your father smile.

He denies it even to this day

Draco always writes to his big sister.

ALWAYS MAN

He usually pops in too to say hi. 

George takes complete credit for getting you two together

Which... He’s not wrong but damn does he lord it over you two

So when your first son’s middle name was George he might’ve cried

a lot

You absolutely adored the life you made for yourself here

You loved to just stand in the doorway of your home sometimes and just watch Fred with Orion.

Because they were your entire world.

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 5

I.V

Masterlist

Content warning: smut, daddy kink... you've been warned

"You almost ready, Einstein?" Katie calls from the other side of the door. You hurriedly slather on another layer of concealer on the fading bruise on your neck. It’s still pretty god awful after your meeting with Hotch yesterday. The deep purple splotch is the only one visible because it’s right smack under your jawline. It’s been hell trying to hide it from Katie. If she saw it, she would inevitably get curious and since you spend almost every moment together, you couldn’t simply lie and tell her that you had hooked up with someone randomly yesterday.

"We’re going to be late! You’re just asking for the sexy professor to yell at you!" She teases and knocks again on your door. You roll your eyes at the nickname for Hotch and scramble to pick out some clothes.

"I’m coming, just one more minute!" You glance over yourself in the mirror. You smooth out your skirt. It’s the only other skirt you own and it’s definitely not daytime appropriate. It’s a matte black fake leather skirt. Turns out, you did indeed rip the seams in your skirt the other day when you were busy on your knees. You hurriedly pull on some sheer black tights, tuck your shirt into the skirt and slip on your boots.

"Y/n, I swear to god-" Just as Katie is about to yell at you again you swing the door open, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"No more yelling. I’m ready," You shake your head at her and move around her in the door frame.

"You look… nicer than usual," Katie teases and hands you a to-go cup of coffee. "Dressing up for someone special?

Your heart picks up in pace, thinking about how Hotch will react to your attempt to dress up for him. It worries you, how desperate you are to impress him. It’s not out of character for you to seek validation from respected figures, but you’ve never been one to seek validation through looks or appearance. That’s not to say you’re not good-looking, because you know you are. But you don’t pride yourself on being the hottest, most attention-grabbing woman in a room.

Just over two weeks ago, you were hoping for attention from Professor Hotchner, but not this kind of attention. You want him to shower you with compliments in relation to your hard work, your intellect, your drive. You want to know you’re the star student. It’s obvious, you’re the smartest student in the class. He’s made that clear to you. But he holds you to such a high standard. It’s as if your work will never be good enough for him. That would normally anger you, but this new, more personal kind of attention has distracted you from the intense standards he has for you. You love that he can’t get enough of you. He can’t keep his hands off of you.

Sleeping with your professor was never something you necessarily dreamed about or fantasized. You had exes try and role play with you but it never really turned you on. This new fling with Hotch has made you truly understand the appeal.

The idea that he can’t resist you. He’s so into you he has to have you. The stolen glances in class. He’s risking everything. His career, his job, his standing as a professor, all just to sleep with you. Just to have you. That’s how irresistible you are to him. And damn, that makes you feel good about yourself. But it feels as if you’ve sacrificed your need for respect for unbridled, animalistic passion.

"Huh?" You glance over at Katie, realizing you’ve ignored her question, losing yourself in your thoughts of Hotch, "No. No one special."

"Not even Charlie?" She smirks over at you, smiling behind her coffee cup like a giddy school girl.

You feel your face growing hot, "Charlie? No, I’m… I’m over that."

"Over that?" Katie stops in her tracks and latches a hand onto your arm, "When were you ever," She pauses, "On that?"

You laugh at her word choice and shake your head, "He’s cute! And really sweet to me and smart and we have really good conversations and—"

"So then why are you ‘over that’! He’s always finding ways to touch you casually," Katie throws an arm around your shoulders, imitating Charlie. You roll your eyes. If only she knew about your extracurricular activities with a certain ‘sexy professor.’

"I don’t know." You shake your head, "He’s just so… So unfocused. Don’t get me wrong, he’s smart, he really is. But I need someone driven like me. I need someone who understands my mind." Katie rolls her eyes and lets out a small scoff at you.

"I’m not saying you have to marry the dude, but you have an opportunity for a very," She wags her eyebrows as you open the door to the lecture hall, "Very fun time in bed with him."

You laugh boisterously at Katie as you step into the classroom. The class is loud, every student talking and socializing with those around you. Your eyes land on Hotch. He’s leaning against the whiteboard at the front. You swear you can see his eyes widen as they run up and down your figure. You give a smirk and turn your attention back to Katie.

"If you like him so much, you can sleep with him," You put your stuff down by a seat at the front. Katie takes the seat next to you like always.

Something about knowing you’ve caught Hotch’s attention is empowering you. You’re feeling bold. You keep your focus on Katie as she rambles on about your social activities. "This isn’t about me. This is about you, Einstein. And you? You need to get laid. I’m sure that Charlie would be more than willing to be that man for you."

"Katie!" You scold her and shove her arm playfully. You glance around to make sure that Charlie hasn’t heard any part of your conversation. He glances up from his friend to give you a small wink and a wave. As you take your seat, you bring your eyes back to Hotch. His brows have furrowed, his arms crossed against his chest. You give him another smirk and lean back in your chair, parting your legs just enough that it’s clear your actions aren’t innocent.

He clears his throat, "Alright everyone, quiet down. Time to get started." His eyes flick back to you. He gives you a glare that says ‘behave’ but you simply lean back a little more in your chair, parting your legs just enough to draw his attention. You see his line of sight travel down and you swear you hear him stumble over a word or two as he starts today's lecture.

——————————

Hotch has never been much of a fan of teasing. He likes to be in control. And looking at the way you’ve parted your legs, the black leather tightly clinging to your skin, and the devious sparkle in your eyes, he knows exactly what you’re attempting to do, and he’s not amused.

A mix of frustration, irritation, and desire bubbles inside of him with every passing minute he looks at you. He tears his eyes away from your velvety figure, pushing his attention onto the 50 other students in the class. He tries his best to hide the growing heat in his body but he practically lets out a groan when he looks back over to see the way that you’re pressing the end of your pen to your plump lower lip.

Hotch stumbles over his words for a second, seeing that damnable smirk of yours quickly growing as he does. There’s only one word he can think best describes you right now: wicked. Your whole demeanor, your outfit, it all reminds him just how much he hates being teased. He wants to grab you by the front of your shirt and take you over his knee, show you just how much he won’t tolerate such wicked behavior. He hates that he’s let you affect him, have some sense of power over him.

Just as he’s regaining his composure, you lean a little forward, flashing your cleavage in his direction. "Miss Y/L/N," He has to avert his eyes from you, not sure how he could possibly hold himself together while you look like that, "You mind giving a small summary of the facts of the case I’ve just discussed and its importance in the context of the history of criminal law and the state of the country at the time of the court’s decision."

"Oh not at all," You pause, "Sir." You give a small nod. He’s hoping to trip you up. Hopefully, you’ve been so distracted by your cunning little charade that you haven’t paid attention to his lecture. He’s hoping to regain some sense of power back. If he can remind you just how quickly he can embarrass you, he’ll feel less powerless.

To his surprise, however, you begin reciting an eloquent and complete response to his questioning. He mentally curses you. He’s not sure why he expected anything less from you. His mistake is underestimating just how powerful your mind is. You’re utterly intolerable. A wicked mind and a wicked little body. How is he supposed to remain composed?

"Was that enough? To your satisfaction, Sir? Or shall I go on longer?" That knowing little smirk hasn’t left your face and Hotch shakes his head.

"Good enough, Miss Y/L/N," It feels like the glow of his cheeks and the lustful look in his eyes will give him away to the rest of the lecture hall. He’s almost positive that every student can sense exactly what’s going on and that simply cannot stand. "Try to wipe that blank look off your face and at least pretend to be engaged in the lecture." He scoffs before forcing his attention back to the prepared lecture.

You don’t pull any more stunts the rest of class but just your appearance is enough to drive him wild. His head feels as if it's in a haze. Hotch isn’t even really quite sure how he manages to get through the lecture. He decides to dismiss everyone a few minutes early but he can’t let you get away with such utterly unacceptable behavior.

"Miss Y/L/N," Hotch calls from the front of the room as the entire class begins to pack up and file out. He gives a small gesture of his fingers to tell you to come to the front before pointing down at the ground.

Katie gives you a confused look and Hotch sees you mumble something to her as she glances between the two of you, hesitating a little before finally leaving

————————

You’re not sure whether or not to be terrified or proud. It’s clear your actions have gotten your professor’s attention. It’s also clear that he’s frustrated and/or upset. You gather up your books and throw your bag over your shoulder, making your way over to Hotch’s desk.

His eyes dart around the classroom as the last few students file their way out the door. In a blink, his hand grabs at the front of your shirt, yanking you close to him, "What the hell was all of that?"

You smirk. As soon as he grabs your shirt, you know he’s not actually angry with you. "Have I done something wrong, professor?" You glance up at him. Your tone is innocent but your body language tells a different story. You press your pillowy breasts into his chest and place your hands on his shoulders, attempting to brace yourself.

"I can’t wait a full week to see you," He mutters under his breath. You feel his hands ghosting over your body. He wants to touch you. His hands are itching to feel your skin, to take your warm skin in his hands. He wants to feel your lips moving with his. You want his touch. The feeling of his rough hands running over your body. "Come with me to my office now," You hear an almost pleading tone in his voice.

You smirk, his lips inching closer to yours every second, "I have plans. Sorry."

A low groan erupts from his throat but he tears himself away from your tempting, enchanting form. You feel him slide something small into the palm of your hand and you glance down at it, his messy scrawl is a series of numbers.

He walks around to grab his briefcase, packing up the classroom, "It’s my number."

You’re a bit confused, assuming that your interactions wouldn’t be more than just the weekly meetings and every day in class. He’s not some schoolboy crush that you’re going to call on a Friday night, sitting on your bed, your feet in the air, giggling and laughing to yourself over the phone with him, arguing about who will hang up first. He’s a man. A much older one at that. He’s over 10 years older than you. This isn’t a silly little flirtation. It’s rough, it’s messy. It’s purely physical and animalistic.

When Hotch looks up at you, he can sense the confusion in your expression at the gesture, "I’m not saying we’re going to talk on the phone each night but you know… just in case I have to get in contact with you."

You almost laugh at the diplomatic way he’s going about this, "Right. Well, I’ll put the number in my phone in case of an emergency." Now your word choice brings you to the brink of laughter.

In case of an emergency? What kind of emergency? An emergency booty call?

You turn away from him with a small nod and walk towards the door but he calls out stopping you, "Miss Y/LN,"

You turn back and Hotch stands at the desk, running his eyes languidly down your figure, taking it all in one last time, "Pull a stunt like that again and you’ll be sorry." He quirks a brow in disapproval.

"It won’t happen again, sir," You grin.

"And wipe that smirk off your face," He rolls his eyes. You press your lips tightly together, struggling to hide your pride as you leave the classroom.

You meet Katie outside the lecture hall. She stands up straight, pulling away from the wall she was leaning against. Just as you open your mouth to explain to her you feel an arm swing around your shoulder, pulling you close to a warm body.

"You get in trouble again, Einstein?" You’re pressed close to Charlie and you can feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks.

"You know actually," You turn his arms to look up at him. He keeps his arm wrapped around you, holding you close so that when you turn, your chest presses against his. Your face is much closer to his than expected, "It’s none of your business."

Charlie glances down at you, a boyish smirk plastered across his face, "I like the new look," He grins and looks over your outfit. Katie lets out a small laugh and shakes her head at the two of you.

"Don’t be creepy, Charlie." She walks closer to the two of you.

"I’m not! I’m being genuine, I think you look really nice, Y/N," Charlie lets you go but wraps his free arm around Katie’s shoulder, bringing her in close to him as well. You laugh at the image of the three of you, Charlie’s arms around each of you, all laughing animatedly.

"Mr. Miller, I don’t mean to interrupt such an utterly enthralling conversation, but I do need to get to my office at some point." When you turn around you see Hotch standing in the doorway, that you, Katie, and Charlie have managed to block. His head is tilted slightly down as he scours at the three of you. Well, there goes his good mood.

"Sorry, sir," Charlie’s voice is soft and small as he releases his grip on Katie so she can move to the right, but keeps an arm wrapped around you, pulling you to the left so that you all move out of Professor Hotchner’s way.

You feel Hotch’s eyes linger on you for a second before he goes storming down the hallways to his office.

"I swear to god that man is the devil spawn," He shakes his head, twirling a ring around his finger.

"He’s not that bad," You roll your eyes, pulling your bag up on your shoulder.

"Not that bad? Einstein, I’m pretty sure he hates you more than me if that’s even possible." Charlie teases, dragging you down the hallway with him and out into the cold outdoors.

You shake your head with a laugh and lean into Charlie’s arms out in the cold, Katie trailing close behind you, "It’s fine. I can take it."

"So what are our plans for tonight, ladies?" Charlie glances back at Katie behind the two of you who simply responds with a little shake of her head.

"Our plans," Katie pulls you out of Charlie’s grip and you laugh, feeling a rag doll being pulled between the two of them, "Are to watch a movie and get drunk in our apartment."

"Sounds like fun," He grins.

"Aw too bad you’re not invited," Katie gives him a small little pouty face.

"I never agreed to getting drunk," You shake your head, "It’s a Thursday and we have class tomorrow. How do you expect me to get through the day if I’m hungover?"

"God you know sometimes you can be such a buzzkill, Einstein."

"Do you ever stop to think that maybe I’m so much younger and smarter and more successful than you two because I work hard?" Your words might seem harsh but it’s just how you interact with your friends. You all tease each other, make fun of one another.

"Yeah, yeah we know, high IQ, blah blah blah, you’re basically a kid genius," Charlie rolls his eyes.

"Well, kid genius," Katie chuckles, "Could you just humor me? One or two drinks?"

"The things I do for you."

————————

Katie was not joking when she said she was planning on getting drunk because she’s already finished off a bottle of wine herself and you’re barely halfway through the movie you two are watching together.

Your phone buzzes on the couch and you reach for it, flipping it open to see a text from Hotch. You furrow your brows slightly and read the message.

What are you doing tonight?

You bite your lip at the message, taking a second to glance over at Katie, whose eyes are glued to the tv screen.

Drinking, watching a movie. You?

The texting feels unnatural. Again, he’s your professor, not some cute 20-something-year-old boy that you casually text on a Thursday night.

Isn’t drinking alcohol illegal at your age?

You roll your eyes at his response. He has so flagrantly demonstrated a lack of respect for rules, aka, not sleeping with students.

Contrary to what you might think of me, I don’t always follow the rules

His responses are rapid. What happened to getting his number in case of emergencies?

I think I prefer you when you listen to instructions.

Where’s the fun in that?

There’s a long pause in which he stops replying. You let out a breath and turn your attention back to Katie, whose eyes are starting to droop closed, the wine bottle tightly wrapped in her clutches.

You reach across her body and pull the bottle away, "Okay drunk-o, time for bed for you. And time to drink some water," Katie lets out a small groan and rolls over on the couch a little. You grab the empty bottles and cans, carrying them to the kitchen to recycle them.

"Einstein!" Katie’s shrill, wine-soaked voice rings throughout the apartment.

"One second, K," You call back, dropping everything into the recycling.

"Who the fuck is A.H. and why is he texting you?" Your heart sinks into your stomach. You let the last few cans clatter into the bin with an aggressive clang before rushing into the living room to snatch the phone out of Katie’s hands.

"Do you have a secret admirer?" Katie wags her brows at you.

"No. You’re drunk. Go to bed." You point at her bedroom like a disapproving mother.

"No, I can’t let you clean everything up by yourself." She stands up, swaying a little as she does. She reaches down for an empty glass but you’re quick to scoop it out of her hand.

"Please just go to bed." You laugh a little, still clutching your phone tightly against your chest, out of her reach.

Katie grumbles out a ‘fine’ before turning and disappearing into her room.

You finally get a chance to steal a look at your texts.

I’m still at work. Meet me at my office. Now.

——————

You teeter back and forth on your toes, waiting outside Hotch’s office. You glance down at your phone again, checking the time. Hotch texted you nearly an hour ago. It’s only been one week and Hotch is already switching up your agreement. You’re not upset about it, you’re actually excited to see him more. You do wonder, whether or not this infatuation he has with you will soon fade. Will he get bored of you? Will he realize that the initial attraction was all physical, nothing more than a few slip-ups? You know there’s more to you than just appearances, but does he know that?

You let out a long drawn-out breath, flipping open your phone to look at the time again. If he wasn’t going to show, he should’ve let you know. You take one step away from the office door when Hotch catches your arm to stop you. You let out a small gasp in shock.

"Going somewhere?" Your eyes snap up to his and there’s a hint of a smile playing on his mouth, "You’re not going to bail on me, are you?"

"Me?" You shake your head, "You texted me nearly an hour ago! I’ve been waiting for you."

Hotch sighs and reaches for the key to unlock his office door, leading you inside, his grip still firm on your upper arm. In an instant, Hotch whirls you around, pressing you back against the door, trapping you between it and his body.

"Do you know how impossible it is to be around you all day without touching you?" He inches in closer to you and you can feel his hot breath fan across your face. His lips gently brush against yours. You instinctively lean your head up, wanting to press your lips against his fully. "That little stunt you pulled today?"

Your breathing stutters as his hands roam your whole body, squeezing. Your hot flesh in his hands is pliable and you melt under his touch. "You liked it," You pant out.

His hand comes up to your neck, wrapping around it tightly. He forces your face up so you look at him and he slams your head back against the door, "Don’t be so fucking snippy with me." He growls and yanks you by the neck to press his lips to yours. His mouth is hot and needy. The kiss lasts a long time, one hand still firmly wrapped around your neck, the other tangling in your hair at the base of your neck.

He kisses underneath your jaw before hooking his hands up under your legs and lifting you off the ground. You cling to him tightly, hoping he doesn’t drop you. He slams your back against the wall and you let out a small gasp, both out of pleasure and excitement. "This is what you wanted, right?"

You’re panting heavily already and he’s barely touched you, your skin on fire. "Mhm," You manage to moan out. You’re amazed at how Hotch is still managing to hold you up against the wall. You gasp out as he presses hard against you, spreading your legs widely, pushing up your skirt so it bunches around your hips.

His head buries into your neck, kissing and nipping gently. Both of his hands move to cup your breasts, his palms filling with your warm skin. You let out a loud moan at the touch and Hotch chuckles under his breath at the sound. You grip his shoulders tightly and only manage a small whimper as you clench your thighs together.

Hotch brings his mouth up to meet yours once again, hungrily devouring your moans. You want to tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at it. You want to cup his cheeks and hold him close. He presses even closer to you, leaving no space between his body and yours.

"I can’t stop thinking about this," Hotch groans, pushing your shirt open more, now only holding you up with one arm. You can see the muscles in his arms rippling, the veins protruding. He tugs aside your bra and palms your breast, his rough hands on your velvety skin. He rubs your nipple between his fingers, "Your mouth, your body, us together."

You rock against him, pressing the hardness in his pants against you, eliciting a loud moan from you and a small growl from him at the pleasure you send radiating through him.

Your hands drop to start to undo his belt. He pulls you away from the wall spinning you around to place you on the edge of his desk. You push the fabric of his slacks down and stroke his warm skin. He hisses and grits his teeth in response, pulling away from your kiss to throw his head back.

"Be careful," You smirk, "Someone might hear us, professor."

"Let them." He shakes his head. Hotch’s eyes snap back down to yours and he doesn’t care about anything but pleasuring you. He pulls your mouth back against his and he feels himself consumed by your scent. He reaches down, gripping your thighs in his hands, placing your feet on the edge of the desk, parting your legs wide, all for him.

You slide closer, rubbing yourself against him. You need him. You want him and you’re so fucking tired of waiting. His hand trails between your bodies, rubbing you slowly, dipping just one finger into you, thrusting it ever so slowly.

"Please," You whine and as you throw your head back, Hotch’s mouth clinging to your throat, sucking and biting, kissing over the fading marks from your last rendezvous.

"Please what?" He grumbles against your neck.

"Fuck me," You can barely get the words out before he lifts you up, flips you over onto your stomach and thrusts up into you, in one motion. He thrusts hard and deep and you let out a moan, louder than anything.

Your body moves with his, your hips going back slightly to meet his every thrust. He fills you in just the perfect way and you’re panting and chanting his name, "God yes, sir, just like that."

He reaches around to grab both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back. "You wanted me to do this. To get angry. To take you. Show you, you’re mine, right?"

You struggle to let out a throaty ‘mhm’ in agreement. He keeps your wrists pinned with one hand and grabs your hair, yanking you up.

"That’s why you put on that little show today, right?" He growls close to your ear. You grind your hips back against his, "Use. Your. Words." He demands. He yanks on your hair a little tighter, in an attempt to remind you who has the dominant position.

"Yes!" You whine out, "This is what I wanted!"

"Good girl," His voice has a malicious tone, but not in a way that scares you. It excites you. He’s rough. He’s wild. He’s uncontrollable. And you’re the one who makes him feel that way. That’s powerful.

You arch back, your chest pressing against the wood on his desk. Hotch keeps your wrists pinned tightly behind your back as he pounds into you relentlessly. He bottoms out with every thrust, which leaves you struggling to cry out with pleasure. You cry out senselessly, every muscle in your body trembling, "Fuck daddy!" The words tumble out of your mouth and you barely take notice of them, your eyes rolling back in your head as you do.

"Did you just call me daddy?" Hotch releases your wrists to bend down and grab your neck. He wraps a large hand almost entirely around the base of your throat and yanks you up, your back pressed fully against him.

"Sorry," You attempt to moan out as Hotch continues to fuck you harder.

"Don’t apologize, pretty girl," He groans against your ear, "Say it again."

"Fuck, daddy!" The pace increases into something animalistic. Your body is shaking wildly at this point and you feel the pleasure building steadily, surging through you with every thrust. You feel his grip on your wrists loosening as his palms grow sweatier.

It’s not long before you’re tightening around him, desperately wishing for something to grab onto. You’re squirming under his touch, the pleasure almost too much as he barrels into you. You come hard and fast and he continues to fuck you through it, yanking you up against him again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

He thrusts into you a few more times and you’re practically crying out in response, your eyes watering, tears running down your cheeks at the overstimulation. He soon comes to a halt, shuddering and groaning, throwing his head back as he releases into you. He lets you down back onto the desk gently, your overheated damp skin contrasting against the cold, smooth wood.

You lie there a second, attempting to catch your breath and steady your heart rate. You feel Hotch press a small tender kiss along your shoulder blades and spine and it’s oddly comforting. "That’s it pretty girl." He says against your skin. He helps you sit up, "I knew you could take it."

You wipe your face, attempting to clean any smudged makeup but you know you must look a mess. Your eyes are glossy and your face is flushed. Your hair is a knotted mess from where he’s tangled his fingers into it. You right yourself, fixing your skirt, tucking your shirt back in.

There’s a long drawn-out moment of silence where you glance at Hotch awkwardly, not sure what you would say to him now. It’s odd how you two are so intimately equated with each others’ bodies but you feel flustered just speaking to him. "I guess I’ll… head home." You smile softly.

You start towards the door but Hotch stops you, "You shouldn’t-" He sighs and grabs his briefcase from the desk, "You shouldn’t walk home alone. It’s dark outside."

"I live just one or two blocks from campus, I should be fine," You shrug, "Plus I’m sure you want to get home. You’ve been working all day."

Hotch rolls his eyes and practically pushes you out of his office as he shuts the lights and locks up, "Stop being so stubborn and just let me walk you home."

You simply shut your mouth and nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him over this. You walk out of the building, Hotch walking alongside you.You wrap your arms around yourself as you step out into the cold, a small shiver running through you.

"You should’ve brought a jacket," Hotch nods slightly at your shivering.

"I didn’t really think to grab one when I was rushing out the door," You tease. Hotch smiles in response and the conversation comes to a lull as you both walk alongside one another. You glance down for a second to see Hotch rubbing his fingers together at his side. It’s something you’ve seen him do a few times, whether it’s while he’s lecturing or when he's focused or when he’s reading. "You do that a lot." You uncross one of your arms to point down at his hands. "That thing with your fingers. You rub them together."

He glances down at his hands and gives a small shrug of his shoulders, "It’s just something I do, I guess."

"It’s how I know you’re really focused on something," You nod letting silence take over once again. You try to focus on the sound of your shoes on the pavement or steadying your breathing. Your heart is beating fast. It always is around Hotch.

"That’s good," Hotch speaks suddenly. It’s as if he was having a conversation with himself before speaking out loud, "Being observant. It’s a good quality for a lawyer."

"How so?" You glance over at him, eyes trailing over every single facial feature. You smile at the way the cold air has given his cheeks a slight pink tinge. The wind tousles the little hairs at the top of his head.

"Being able to observe and understand your opponent’s behavior. The jury’s behavior," He nods, "you need to know what flusters people, what trips them up. You need to know their tells, their weaknesses, their strengths. If you can understand and observe the behavior of all the people in that courtroom… you have full control over them."

"So by analyzing behaviors… you gain some sense of how to control people," You nod, reciting back to him. There’s a pause in conversation again. "Do you know my behaviors?"

A wide smirk starts to spread across Hotch’s face, "Yes. I know when you’re angry, or when you’re focused. I can tell when you’re…" He trails and glances down your figure, "Excited. I know what makes you feel good."

You feel the heat rising up your neck and into your face. Suddenly the cold air isn’t as biting anymore. "Care to share any of these behaviors of mine?"

"I’m pretty sure you said it yourself earlier… something along the lines of ‘where’s the fun in that?" He laughs and you give his arm a nudge.

Another pause. You’re nearly a block from your apartment, do you just give up and resign yourself to silence?

"What’s your favorite color?" You blurt out and turn to look at him.

"My favorite… what?" He laughs and shoves his hands deeper into his pants pockets, "Are you serious?"

"Fine, nevermind." You shrug, "I’m just trying to get to know you."

"By asking about my favorite color?" There’s a judgmental tone to his voice but when you look over his face, that small hint of a grin lingers.

"I said nevermind," You stop in place and nod up at your apartment building. "Well… this is my stop." You joke. You feel a strong urge to stick your hand out to shake his which would be incredibly awkward, but you’re not sure what kind of send-off is appropriate. A goodnight kiss is simply far too intimate and a hug is too friendly. You settle for an uncomfortable nod and tight-lipped smile, "Good night Hotch."

"Aaron," He nods, "You can call me Aaron."

Your cheeks ache from smiling so hard. You give one last look before walking up the steps to the front door of your building.

"Hey, Einstein," Aaron calls out and you freeze in your place a little. Something about hearing that nickname come out of his mouth is incredibly endearing. You turn to him, "Blue."

"What?" You furrow your brows at his words.

"My favorite color. It’s blue." He smiles. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing your smile.

"Good night, Aaron," You repeat and open your door.

"Good night, Einstein."

Chapter 6: I.VI →

[softlilacmoonlight]

Lucifer x Reader - Need You

In personal chat

Lucifer: (Y/N), are you awake?

(Y/N): Yeah, Mammon barged in here not that long ago and woke me up. Why?

Lucifer: Since you are conveniently awake, come to my room the minute you get this message. Understood?

(Y/N): Lucifer, what is this about?

-

-

-

(Y/N): Lucifer? Ugh, fine I'm coming.

Third-person pov:

After your mysterious conversation with Lucifer, you turn off your DDD and stumble out of your bed. The minute the cold air hits your skin, goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. You can't help but be slightly annoyed with the request, more like the demand, of the eldest sibling. Deciding that you weren't getting any warmer wishing you were in bed, you start to make your way towards the eldest's room.

Slowly as you make your way through the corridors of the old house, the dark wood doors leading into Lucifer's room appear in front of you. After a deep inhale, you place two gentle knocks on the door. What happened next came as a surprise to you. You were expecting a "come in," or "the door's open (Y/N)!" Never in your wildest imagination did it ever cross your mind that this would happen.

Suddenly, and with no warning whatsoever, the door is yanked open with enough force that your hair moves forward with the door's airflow. Before you can even process anything else, you're grabbed by the hand and pulled into a pair of arms as the door closes, just as quickly as it opened.

(Y/N) pov:

I'm quickly greeted with the smooth feeling of a satin dress shirt and overcoat buttons against my skin. I can smell the very subtle aroma of mint and musk. The vibrations of his heartbeat through the shirt are fast. His shoulders are trembling, and every breath is rushed... scared.

"Lucifer?" I ask.

He just pulls me tighter, and that's when I feel it. The wetness seeping through my hair and onto my scalp. It's cool and the liquid slowly drips its way down onto my neck. Worry slowly creeps up onto me. My back shivers in anticipation of whatever bad thing could have happened and my gut fills with a sense of dread. Before I can even say anything else, a warm coat is draped over my shoulders.

Lucifer's smooth voice trembles as he talks. "Many pardons (Y/N). I pulled you out of your warm bed at this ungodly hour, not that anything down here is godly. I could feel you shiver, so you must be cold out of your blankets. You, humans, are so delicate. I apologize for asking you to come and have to put up with this wash-up of a man."

Wash up! I quickly plant my hands against his chest and push him away from me. Now that I have a full view, I can clearly access the whole situation. The red-rimmed eyes, trembling shoulders, messed-up hair, undone clothes, and the terrified look on Lucifer's face show no indication of his usually calm and composed self.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry. You obviously don't wish to be here with me. You may leave, and return the coat as soon as possible. Many pardons for bothering you." he whispers.

Lucifer's pov:

Her face slacks with shock as I turn her away. What was I thinking? Did I seriously think that she could help, no love, me even when I'm a mess? No, she probably only likes me when composed. I'm too ugly when I'm a mess.

"Lucifer, what makes you think that I don't want to be here?" her gentle voice asks.

Does she not even understand her own actions? "(Y/N), you pushed me away, so that leaves the conclusion that you do not wish to be here. You may leave, I'm not keeping you here."

I turn around so that I can avoid the pity in her gaze. I don't need any pity, and I was stupid to want help. I'm the Avatar of Pride, and I don't need help. Do I?

Suddenly, two arms wrap around my waist and pull me back. My whole back feels warm, (Y/N)'s body heat warming me up. They grip their hands behind my back so tightly that I know, I'm not escaping this hug anytime soon.

"Lucifer. Listen. Here. Now." she whispers, calm and low. "You are not a wash-up of a man."

I let out a harsh laugh as she comes around to meet my eyes. "I-"

"Absolutely not! Not one more word out of you!" she says sternly. "You're a very smart, hardworking, talented, and handsome man! You are anything but a wash-up!"

Tears well up and gloss over my eyes. "Handsome? You really think that?"

It's rare to see (Y/N) blush, but right now she's the most beautiful thing alive. Her blush has spread, and now it covers her beautiful and full cheeks and her cute little nose. Her hair frames her blushing face, and slowly her beautiful eyes look up and meet mine.

(Y/N)'s pov:

Looking up, I meet Lucifer's glossy ruby eyes. From the moment I first saw them, oh how they captivated me in their depths of wine red. There's a noticeable pain in my chest at the sight of them coated in tears.

He's too afraid to take the first step. "Lucifer... I love you."

Lucifer's eyes widen as he just stares at me. His mouth is even comically hanging open, and for once he's letting me see his cute side. I take in everything once more and even when he's a mess, he's the most handsome being I've ever laid eyes on.

"Lucifer," I whisper. "Even as a fallen angel, you deserve the title Morning Star. You're perfection in a person. Your appearance is always perfect, along with your behavior, and social image. Sure you slip and have a hard time with your brothers and you could learn to be a little more lenient with them, but you are still an amazing brother. They are all very lucky to have you as the eldest. Now, I'll leave you be, because I'm a hundred percent certain that you could use some sleep. Goodnight, Lucifer."

Turning, I head towards the door. Before I even take a step, I feel Lucifer pick me up and lay right down on the bed with me. He pulls me close and lays his head on my chest, snuggling in and positioning himself until he is satisfied.

Suddenly, I hear his gentle whisper. "My love, please stay."

I feel my heart swell with love. "Anything for you, my dear."

"Mmm. I don't want to be your Morning Star. Those days are long gone. Will you give me a different nickname? Please, my goddess?" He asks. I can feel my entire face heat up from his tired and gentle praise.

"Lucifer, my Evening Light. How about that?"

"Perfect, just like you. I promise you, my goddess. I can't wait to spend eternity with you..." and with that, he falls off to dreamland, and soon after I join him.

In the morning:

I can feel a gentle pressure on me and without thinking, I grab Lucifer's hair and pull him back down next to me. The tension quickly leaves his body as he lays back down by me. Gently, I run my hands through his hair.

"Goddess, I have to get ready for work," he whispers, his voice a deep growl. I could get used to his morning voice.

Except, he's not going to work. "No."

"Love-" he starts.

Raising an eyebrow, I caress his cheek. "Don't make me call Lord Diavolo for you. You know that he's been trying to get you to take off some time for quite a while now."

Suddenly a sound pierces the silence. "SSSCCCCRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

Lucifer and I look to each other in question. "Was it just me..." I started.

"Or did that sound like Levi?" Lucifer finishes.

Rushing out of bed, still, in our pj's, we run to the source of the screaming. All of the brothers are outside of the kitchen, except for Levi and Satan being inside the kitchen. The others turn to us in shock when they see us running up in our pj's-. Thankfully, Lucifer had the foresight to throw a shirt on himself. He also threw one of his shirts over my shirt and his only explanation was "mine."

"What is going on here!" exclaims Lucifer.

I run over and start to check all of them for any injuries, Levi and Satan specifically. "Are you both alright? Anything broken? No one impaled? Did any of you burn yourselves?" I ask, fretting over them like a mother hen.

"No, the Great Mammon had everything covered. Being the amazing person I am, I quickly made the smart decision to stop everyone else from entering the kitchen," explains Mammon.

Belphie rolls his eyes high enough to touch the ceiling. "I'm surprised you even managed to form a complete sentence Mammon. I thought you didn't have the brain cells to do so."

"What'da ya mean by that!" yells Mammon.

I feel Lucifer hug me from behind. "You know what, I don't even want to know. I think I'll ask Barbatos to discipline them, and then we should escape to anywhere you wish to go after I ask for a leave. What do you think about that?" he whispers.

"Mhm, sounds lovely. I've always wanted to see more of the Devildom. Somewhere warm, with history, and just the two of us." I respond.

Quietly, the two of us sneak away while the others are arguing about what happened, and quickly pack our bags. Even as we sneak out of the front door, we can still hear them arguing inside the House of Lamentations. Heck! We're still in our pj's!

Bonus:

"Hey!" hollers Beel above the noise of all of the fighting. "Where's (Y/N) and Lucifer!"

All of the brothers quickly look around, and upon not seeing the duo start to get incredibly worried. It's highly unlike Lucifer to not serve a strict punishment, yet he hadn't even asked what happened. A frantic search is quickly underway to find the two, but they were nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, the front doors are whisked open. Looking at the front, the six brothers quickly rush to the door only to be greeted by Barbatos. He walks into the house with a slightly sinister smile on his face. "I sure hope you intend on fixing the kitchen because for the next week I'll be in charge. By the time I'm through, you'll be begging for Lucifer and (Y/N)'s return."

The End

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Hello loveys! Here is chapter four of

‘Tis the Damn Season

~Let It Snow~

Thanks to @dirtystyles for the beta and late night video mining thanks it Night Niki!

Enjoy! Reblogs are Love!!

"We have a problem," Harry states as he comes in the room. Emma's heart nearly stops and she feels exposed. Not just because she is naked, though she is literally bare, but because he's just been downstairs to talk to the landlady and Emma is terrified of what the hell the problem could be.

He was just downstairs, while she was luxuriating in the sheets scented like them. What could he have encountered there that would lead to this deadpan voice and monotone face?

Emma's mind is good at this, at possibilities, it's why she's good at her studies and internships, she can run through lots of scenarios in her head and then plug in logistics and costs and benefits. She doesn't even need a spreadsheet unless you get beyond a handful of variables.

Variable one - she's gonna think of them as variables because problems are more nerve wracking - there are fans outside. They've heard from someone, through a grapevine or hedgerow, that Harry stays here a couple days each Christmas.

Emma can see a way out of this, though it requires sending Harry to be the sacrificial lamb. He will have to go to the altar and sign things, which is better than being beheaded, and take pictures and give hugs and lead them away. Then Emma can linger, maybe eat lunch in the pub garden and leave when the coast is well and truly clear. It's not how she wants to spend their last day this break together, but it gets them both out of here unexposed, if not totally unscathed.

This is the best case scenario.

Variable two - while he was downstairs Gemma texted. She's cottoned on. Well, Emma is totally afraid and halfway sure her friend can sense that she's sleeping with her little brother every chance she gets and hasn't been honest about it. Emma knows Harry has not been forthright either. The puzzle pieces can't be hard to put together. They've gotten lazy. No, the word is addicted. The fact that they both always disappeared and went dark for the same number of days was more than noticeable the first time, it wasn't a pattern yet thought. An easy to recognize and predict four three year old pattern. Emma is good at those too, patterns. So is Gemma, all those themes, all those books.

They'd talked about it, she and Harry, that second year, their first meet up with intent. Agreed they would be limited, controlled, discreet. They would meet late, after pub crawls, and only get together after Gemma went back to London.

She's not sure who they were fooling.

Because then, instead, they just holed up, skipped social events, turned up moments apart from one another and left the same way. Basically they'd ignored every one of their rules, the ones they'd designed to keep their secret. They couldn't help themselves, nor stay away. She had to sit on her hands and never look at him to keep from touching or kissing in public. Harry didn't even bother.

Last year, Gemma had made a few comments, about them flirting, about Harry peacocking around Emma, about them leaving at the same time. About his hands on her.

Emma remembered when they'd pulled themselves out of each other's arms, him to go home, her to a meet up with Gem and some others. He was definitely less stealthy, not sleeping at home and all, but he insisted on holding her while he fell asleep and waking up to her kisses. What was she supposed to do but melt?

Emma had been late, because of course she was, she'd almost been out the door when he'd asked to be kissed goodbye. "I just put on lipstick." She'd shaken her head, and then his face had taken on that impish hue and he'd kissed her lipstick and clothes off. The waiting Uber had left without her and she lost her perfect 5 star rating.

She'd come in, flushed apologizing and lying about her mother needing her to go to the shops. Gemma had pushed her a drink and given her a look. Like she knew, why Emma was late and Harry was sneaking out to sleep in a shitty pub bed. Then later, she'd said, "Harry's up to something, someone, he's been staying out all night again. My mum isn't that bothered, but I just want to know who." The look she'd turned on Emma was nothing short of an invitation.

Emma could have confessed. But it felt like a final chapter, a bookend she wasn't ready for, so she'd shrugged and suggested maybe he had a girl in Manchester, or a boy. It had been a joke, but Gemma hadn't blinked, and Emma wasn't surprised either, so that seemed interesting. Luckily the conversation flowed beyond that when a new old friend arrived.

Gemma kept giving her looks though.

Emma did feel like she was wearing a scarlet H.

And she'd come to the party with it two days ago. The letter may not have been apparent on her sweater, the kinda ugly but also perfect Christmas sweater she'd found at the thrift store one day. It was red, the threads of it shot through with silver, like it was made of tinsel. And it was big, she was wearing it as a dress. The expediency of last year's dress fed her lunacy this year. They should definitely control themselves this time. Thank god the door had been locked.

The big H over the heart of her sweater cum dress was probably only visible to her.

And possibly to Harry, from the way he had zeroed in on her. He'd greeted her when she came in the kitchen door with a lingering kiss on her cheek. She was totally breathless just from seeing him. He had grown. He was a bit taller and seemed to have slimmed down. And his hair was brushing his shoulders in this way that could only be described as princley. She was waiting and hoping for true love's kiss.

That was probably why, when he looked around naughtily and scooted her over 5 steps to be under the mistletoe, she hadn't even been able to find an eye roll of protest. The kiss had tasted like home, because he was the best thing about Christmas and coming home to Holmes Chapel. He was what she longed for on days that literally didn't end in Iceland, cozy nights with him, under the blankets near a fire. It lingered, his lips on hers, the slick of his Christmas cookie scented tongue. He held her a moment later, the hug lasted too long as well.

"Oooh, Harry get off!" Gemma had harrumphed.

Emma had been sure her face was bright red, but Harry had just rolled with it, pointed to the mistletoe, and said, "Seemed more appropriate than a full make out!" He'd pulled back and tossed that comment over his shoulder but winked at her as his hands dropped. It had seemed to satisfy for that moment. That was before Emma had ignored rules and definitely fallen into her pattern. The Boar's Head on Boxing Day and maybe a few more. Hell, even the landlady recognized them and told them she'd saved their preferred room for them. Gemma was quick, sharp as a knife blade and could cut like one too, when hurt.

Maybe Gemma had gotten sick of the unexplained sober night disappearing acts and called him out.

Would they come clean? Did that mean this was over? Did that mean this was beginning?

Emma wasn't even sure what she wanted. This was the worst case scenario, that those they loved and were deceiving knew.

Or, maybe they knew for an even worse reason.

Variable three - it had gotten out to the press. Someone had snapped a photo of them kissing before the "we were just hugging" excuse. Or got them together here in a more salacious situation. Going to a room together - no - that can't be right. They meet here, behind closed doors, no one can get to them here, it's like their fortress. Nobody knows. Would the landlady sell them out?

Emma takes a deep breath, she's just given herself some very rapid fire and escalating worst case scenarios. She needs more data. "What's wrong?" Her voice is steady.

Maybe not steady enough, he looks up with his brow quirked and his mouth a bit drawn.

He reads her, she feels him open her up like the spine of a book. She hopes he doesn't ask. How long would it take to explain the crazy journey her mind just took? Instead he just tilts his head and gives her a naughty smile. "We're stuck!" His eyebrows raise like he's just told her he found a stash of herbs that act like viagra.

"Huh?" For as quick a thinker as she is, she feels really behind. May have been that smile's promise, or that his news is simple, innocuous, not full of consequences.

"Come look." His head motions to the window he is standing in front of. He puts her in front of him immediately and hooks his chin over her shoulder. "We're snowed in!" He's gleeful.

"You'll miss your flight." She sounds worried. This would stress her out.

"I will, but I won't miss out on you! And I can't get my ass chewed because this is an act of God!"

"An act of God to get you laid!" She laughs. She's joking.

He doesn't look amused. "I already got laid." He tries for a playful eye roll, it doesn't land, like when you jump off a swing and miss, tumble over, twist an ankle. "I'm excited, how cozy is this! We get to hang out for at least another day. We can order food in and stay in bed and watch movies! Everyone else will be snowbound too so we won't have to put on real clothes or anything at all and go to the pub or family dinner or anything. Just us two with no obligations!"

He looks gleeful to have extra time off. She shouldn't begrudge him, he works hard and so does she. "What movie do you want to watch?" He's already digging for his laptop and sweats, he's down to a tee, tossing her the one she slept in.

There's a part of Emma that thinks she should bring up all the winding trails her mind just ran, instead, she smiles and catches the love bug he's infected with. "You pick, baby." Baby, wow, she thought she only said that in her head, or when she's under him. She'd be happy if he doesn't notice. He does, and the way he looks over it makes her happier.

Hours later, after he calls down for shepherds pie and tea he says, "We should get pints'"

"I don't like beer."

"Then wine!"

"Ok, wine." They usually only had tipsy tumbles at the party. This was intentional; on her part at least, she liked to remember their limited time together so she could live off it all year. "I feel like I need to warn you, wine makes me feel sexy."

"Oh, oh no, what will I do?" He put his hand to his heart then to his head and reclined in an arch that belied his 'I don't dance' claims. Maybe not yet, but one day he'd be a dancer. "I know you will launch an assault on my virtue!" He stuck his tongue to the cover of his smirking mouth. She'd take that invitation.

"Yeah. I should make a start on that job now!" She advances on him with all the moves she put into being the best footballer in sixth form. Harry runs from her, but the room is small and cozy and cluttered, so he quickly tumbles over. He groans from the floor.

"Oh, are you hurt babe?" She's on her knees looking his perfect face over for forming bruises when he laughs and pulls her down on top of him.

"Nope, fine and dandy!"

"Dandy is right!" She secretly loved his evolving look. But had to take him down a few pegs regularly.

"Heeey! I had to call a foul, you are way faster than you look!"

"How does one look fast?" She's talking, he's kissing.

"When you look like you have moves," he moved his eyebrows in illustration, "and I'm like a newborn gazelle."

"Bullshit, I think you just get distracted."

He blinked and just stared for a moment. "Nobody's ever said that but my mum." Emma wasn't sure what that meant, but it meant something. The deep kiss and eye contact said so. As did his downshift.

They'd been on 4th gear headed to 5th when she'd started joking. Now he was back to third and decelerating.

"Cmon," he broke the kiss to say and came back like her lips were honey to his bee. It took him three lip locks to get to the next words. "Let's go get cozy and watch something."

She barely remembers the movie he put on. But she'll always remember him narrating it in her ear and his comment on the aesthetic.

"Do you like the costumes and set design or the actual plot?" She tilted her head back to ask and found her lips had the same magnets in them his had earlier. Must be contagious like his glee for snow days.

"Both, but I guess ideally they are equally great, but I'd say the latter in this case."

"You know, pop star, for a boy who left school early, you're awfully cerebral." She meant this as a compliment.

He blushed and gave her a shy smile. "Nah, I'm a lad."

There was something about the way he said it, like this was one of those beliefs everyone had about themselves that they didn't really share, but affected them.

Emma climbed up over him. "Hey, you're not allowed to put yourself down around me, ok?"

"Being a lad isn't necessarily a bad thing." That rang true, he believed that.

"Yeah, I agree with you. But you aren't just a lad Harry."

He looks askance for a second. "I mean, I'm not like, a genius or anything," he nudged her, "not like some people."

"I'm not a genius." He made a face. "I'm not. I'm smart, but more than that I'm dedicated, and you obviously are as well. You work really hard Harry, and you make people really happy. You make great music. You know that, right? That what you do has merit? That it matters?"

"I'm not saving the planet." He looked deeply at her.

"Neither am I." He scoffed. "No, really. I'm just trying to do what I can to make things a little better. And you are too."

"Yeah, but I want to do more, like more good."

"And you will, you do know you're like 21 right." Sometimes she needed this reminder too. He was even younger than her.

"Not quite."

"Stop reminding me I'm older than you." She ruffled his hair.

"Older and wiser."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Styles."

Harry reversed their positions, she was under him, looming blue and beautiful above her. "I dunno, I like my geography."

The kisses he was applying to her collarbone were pretty compelling.

"I guess I'd have to see a little more flattery," she sighed.

"I think you're the smartest girl I've ever met." That kiss was right below her ear.

She made an encouraging sound.

"I love the color of your eyes when there is soft light behind you." That kiss was to the same spot on the other side. It was also very specific.

"I miss you and the way you smell 11 months out of the year." That one was on the hollow at the base of her throat.

"If I could, I'd just follow you from Amsterdam to Iceland so that I got to wake up to you every morning." That one she felt required a follow up, but that kiss was on her mouth and escalated to all of the other positions his held.

It wasn't until the next morning, when they we're still snowbound, cozy, and together that she thought to say, "You know you could do anything you wanted, be anything you wanted. You're limitless, Harry."

She didn't tell him she'd also love if he chose to follow her between her school and her hoped for career. Just like she hoped he would never tell her he wanted her to follow him on tour. It was too limited.

She wished they were limitless together instead of on the divergent roads they'd chosen.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 5

Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Pairing(s): Romantic Logicality, Background Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: Suicide Mention near the end, swearing, talk of death, anger issues perhaps? let me know if I missed anything!

–

Ever since the day he burst into a hysterical giggle fit out of the blue in the middle of his very first recess, Logan Faraday could tell his soulmate would be a handful.

Of course, this initial outburst had already cost Logan any chances of socialising; soulmate or not, it’s hard to convince other children that you’re not crazy when you very suddenly laughed in their face mid sand castle construction. Needless to say, the only upside to that first recess was that he could work on said sand castle by himself. Yes, that was an upside. At least, Logan convinced himself it was.

Logan preferred to keep his emotions rather modest, not initially to save his soulmate from a similar ostracisation as he had suffered, but simply because he preferred it that way. Were there moments that he felt intense emotions regardless? Certainly. For his ninth birthday, his fathers had caved and bought him a telescope, a gift he used to this day despite it’s child-sized inefficiency. At the time it was a fleeting thought, but as he watched the stars while his fathers both pointed out constellations - and occasionally bantered back and forth over any inaccuracies - Logan wondered if his soulmate felt his love and passion for the stars. If they could feel how much the gift had meant to him. The thought was one Logan allowed to slip away at the time, only to receive a feeling of pure joy immediately after. As much as his soulmate’s overly excitable emotions could cause him all kinds of trouble, Logan couldn’t help but hope deep down that his soulmate was so happy because he was happy. 

Logan went to sleep that night feeling like a bright newborn star…

-

Years of spontaneous happiness and excitement was something Logan was used to; sudden, unstoppable sadness was not. 

“Logan?”, his science teacher had inquired concernedly, “Is everything alright?”

Logan hadn’t realised he was crying profusely until he looked down at his notebook to be greeted by a wet splatter causing his notes to spread out in a blue flower of sorrow. He wiped at his eyes initially, ignoring the awful sad feeling in his chest, spouting a near monotone, “I’m fine.”, though the tears didn’t stop. Out of the corner of his quickly blurring sight, Logan could see his classmates talking. Whispering among themselves. About the situation. About him. 

His teacher hadn’t needed to ask again before Logan packed his bag, simply offering, “Actually I feel rather unwell. I’ll go to the nurses office. Excuse me.”, before he all but ran out of his classroom. 

Why? Why couldn’t his soulmate stop crying!?

Logan made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, locking himself in a stall to let his soulmate’s emotions pour out their sorrows in peace. Unwavering sadness, a cocktail of fear and helplessness stirred in there too for good measure. If Logan had felt more empathetic at the time, he’d have tried to understand his soulmate’s obvious distress. But he was only a teenager. A stupid, angry, hormone-addled teenager with more frustration than sense who lashed out instead. Why didn’t his soulmate understand what they were putting him through?! Why couldn’t they just stop making him embarrass himself?! Didn’t they understand how he felt?!

“WHY CAN’T YOU STOP MAKING ME FEEL LIKE THIS?!”, Logan yelled as he kicked at the stall walls and doors in frustration as the tears just kept coming. In fact, they seemed to worsen the angrier Logan got until he was a sobbing mess on the dirty bathroom floor. With no signs of the tears stopping, Logan wrenched his notebook out of his bag, flipping to the last page and scrawling out a quick note before he would leave to go be sent home by the nurse,

“Ask Soulmate About:

April 13th 20XX: debilitating sadness, unstoppable crying, demand explanation”

Logan never told his parents exactly why he was home early, brushing off his fathers’ concern with a simple, “I felt unwell and couldn’t focus”, as he ascended the stairs to his room to spend the rest of the night stargazing, hoping to drive away his earlier outburst. Instead, Logan felt overwhelming guilt. His soulmate was bawling their heart out and he’d answered them with anger. Irrational, illogical, rage that they didn’t deserve. Now Logan felt nothing from his soulmate as he lay in his bed and wished - oh how he wished - he could’ve relived the day just so he could properly comfort his soulmate instead of lashing out at them like a snarling animal. But he couldn’t. And he’d have to live with that forever. 

Logan went to sleep that night feeling like a monster…

-

Over the next three years, Logan had slowly become convinced that his soulmate was dead. He had heard rumours; people who found out their soulmate had died some time after they had stopped feeling anything from them. The thought was terrifying to Logan. Outwardly, he tried not to let the thought consume him; people die every day, they come and go, and no one has control over the how or when. There were times when Logan was sure he felt something. Just the tiniest twinge of an emotion, but the feeling would be gone so fast, he was sure he was just imagining things. By the time he turned 18, Logan had accepted that his soulmate must have died. And the last thing they’d potentially felt from Logan was his seething anger and resentment. 

What a goddamn fool he had been.

At nineteen, Logan had been accepted into his top choice college and quickly began establishing a routine; he’d wake up at 6 am, ignore his roommate, Roman, loudly announcing his love for his soulmate to the mirror, walk across campus to his classes, have lunch with classmates, then return to his dormitory where he would indulge in either more studying or the occasional movie or game night with Roman. It kept his mind focused and allowed very little time for him to dwell on unpleasant thoughts. 

Expectedly, his routine was shattered to pieces. Knowing Roman’s need to be spontaneous, he hadn’t expected it to take three months, but oh well.

“Let me get this straight-”

“Good luck with that!”, Roman had finger gunned back at Logan, who rubbed his temples like they could smooth out the stress that was building up by the second, “Let me be sure I understand you.”, he rephrased through gritted teeth, “You decided that, without my knowledge and completely throwing out any semblance of social etiquette, that you would not only invite your soulmate-”

“Boyfriend.”, Roman corrected, preferring that label for some reason. Logan rolled his eyes annoyedly.

“Your boyfriend, to come over and join in our game and or movie night and are just now telling me that I will simply have to, as you put it, ‘deal with it’?”

Logan watched Roman nervously rub the side of his neck, “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of? In what way has this ridiculous arrangement of yours changed to further inconvenience me?”, Logan snapped a little too viciously before he could catch himself. Roman was ready to answer him when a knock arrived at the door. Perhaps it was spite, perhaps it was to let the unwelcome guest know just how much he was intruding on Logan’s routine - though to be honest, Virgil was actually rather pleasant - either way, the enraged man stormed over to the door and hauled it open, “Greetings, make yourself-”

The words died in his throat.

The man standing at the door definitely wasn’t Virgil. Strawberry blonde hair, slightly sunkissed skin, round silver framed glasses, a baby blue polo and tan shorts… definitely not Virgil. Logan stared for probably a little too long before the young man spoke up,

“Um, are you okay? Logan, right? Virgil and Roman have told me about you!”, he held out a hand to shake Logan’s, his smile blinding, “I’m Patton!”

Logan ignored the tiny phantom emotion that poked at his soul and opted to step aside and let Patton in, “It’s nice to meet you, Patton. I apologise for my…. Aggressive demeanor.”, he admitted, ignoring Roman’s guilty glance to ask, “I was informed Virgil would be joining us?”

“Oh! He’ll be a little late,”, Patton sheepishly explained, “He’s uh, he’s still picking out a shirt to wear.”

Roman seemed all too eager as he valiantly proclaimed, “Then I shall go forth to my dark and stormy knight, and help him pick one out! Logan, be a good host for our dear friend Patton!”

Before either of the two could protest, Roman took off down the hallway. Logan sighed, “Please, make yourself at home, Patton. It may be up to an hour before they’re done.”

“An hour to pick a shirt?”, Patton looked so confused. Logan clapped a hand to his mouth. Oh this poor sweet innocent bean. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he needn’t have bothered as it appeared it had finally sunken in. “OH.” Patton flushed bright red, sitting on the sofa, mortified. Logan was stifling a chuckle so hard, he almost missed the foreign feeling of embarrassment growing within him. On a reflex, Logan tried to will the feeling away. His soulmate was dead, it must be his own embarrassment, therefore. It persisted for a moment until Logan was wrenched from his inner struggle by Patton, “Are you alright, Logan?”.

Ah, that’s right. He had company. Logan nodded and sat down next to Patton on the sofa. He would have sat on his own but he felt awkward doing so when it was just he and Patton alone. He didn’t want Pat to feel like he was avoiding him.

“I’m fine, Patton. Would you like me to play something on netflix?”, he offered, picking up the remote. 

Patton grinned mischievously, clearly about to make an awful joke. “Logan, are you asking me to netflix an-” “NO-!”, Logan’s face burned bright red, but he quickly rushed to reassure Patton as the shorter  man recoiled, “No, I mean, I’m not attempting to ‘netflix and chill’ with you. I’m-”

Patton stopped him, his expression unreadable for a second, “It’s alright! I understand, it was just a joke, I promise!”. Logan nodded, trying to power through the intense attraction he had begun to feel. It felt so odd being able to feel an emotion so strongly without his soulmate. Or perhaps…. Was he wrong? Had he been wrong the whole time? No. No, how could someone suppress intense emotions for almost three years now? He needed to stop betting against his logic just because an attractive man was staring at him.

…. Why was Patton staring at him?

“..... Do I have something on my face, Patton?”, Logan questioned. 

Patton bit his lip worriedly at first; apparently mulling over what he was going to say first, “This uh, might be a little bit personal to ask so soon, but...”, he paused, fiddling with his shirt, “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

Ah. Logan hadn’t anticipated that question, but he wasn’t surprised by it either. He eyed Patton for a moment, unsure as to whether he wanted to be fully honest with him. For some reason, Logan felt he could confide in Patton. 

“No. I haven’t. If I’m being entirely honest, I have reason to believe they may have...”, a deep breath, “...passed.”

The sorrow in Patton’s gaze could’ve put Logan in the ground with his soulmate. Such beautiful eyes shouldn’t be tainted by mourning. Before Logan could apologise, Patton took a sharp breath, meeting his gaze somewhat guiltily, “I… How can you be sure? Do you think...possibly... your soulmate might be alive?”. The insistence in Patton’s tone had Logan hoping he was right. Four years of convincing himself his soulmate was gone for good wouldn’t leave immediately, but for Patton, he wanted to indulge the idea.

“If they are, I owe them a rather lengthy apology.”

The young man in front of him tilted his head in confusion which prompted Logan to continue, he’d told him so much already, why not open up some more? “My soulmate was- is,”, he corrected, earning a petit smile of encouragement from Patton, “rather a happy soul. They’d burst into figurative fits of laughter and joy almost daily. As a result, I never made many friends. The other children found it bizarre, they treated me like an anomaly.”

He took a deep breath in. It took a second for Logan to take note of Patton’s hand resting over his; to encourage him, surely, nothing more… “I never paid my outcast status much heed, I..”

Patton leant slowly closer and Logan felt it again; that psychosomatic feeling of intense adoration. Or perhaps… “... I never realised how lonely I felt.”, Logan continued quietly, acutely aware of the emotions spreading within his chest as Patton’s fingers intertwined with his own, “Genuinely, I never thought about it, I was so content to just enjoy my happiest times for what they were. The first time I felt true happiness, I lay in my bed and I hoped. I hoped my soulmate could feel how happy I was, and I felt them.”. Logan was hit with a wave of overwhelming fondness mixing with his nerves. Patton looked so, so happy, but..

“... Then, I ruined everything.”, Logan continued somberly, attempting to slip his hand from Patton’s hold, but instead Patton held firm, anxious and eager to know what happened it seemed. “A few years after, I was sitting in science class when my soulmate felt this…. This unimaginable sadness. I couldn’t contain my tears, and no matter where I looked, my classmates were staring at me. Like I was even more of an oddity than they already thought me to be.”. While the feeling of deep affection flowered within his chest, Logan felt that same sadness sewing its seeds among the roots. Of all the times to potentially feel his soulmate’s emotions once more, that was the one thing Logan had never, ever, wanted to feel again.

“I lashed out, alone in the school’s bathroom.“, his hand slid free of Patton’s before the shorter man could react, threading itself in Logan’s dark hair as his anxiety grew, “I allowed my anger to warp my emotions and I lost control. My soulmate was-!”, his breathing hitched, “They were hurting! They were in pain, Patton! But I spent so long in that stall just, yelling such awful things-!”

As if he couldn’t further relive that same trauma, Logan hadn’t realised he was crying until Patton gently caressed the tears from his cheeks. He softly murmured, “It’s okay, keep going. Please. I think… I may need to hear this...”

Logan found that the words wouldn’t come. Perhaps he’d known since he laid eyes on Patton but was just so deep in denial that he convinced himself he couldn’t be so lucky. Perhaps he’d put it together when Patton’s reactions aligned with his twinges of emotion, but didn’t want to believe that he was facing the soulmate he’d so callously lashed out at in his time of need, and treated as though he had passed on to make himself feel better. Either way, Logan could no longer run from the facts; just looking into Patton’s beautiful eyes, those honey gold galaxies that complimented the deep cerulean of Logan’s own, he knew that Pat had already worked it out. With their close proximity, Logan rested his head on Patton’s shoulder, murmuring barely above a whisper,

“...Why?”, Logan’s dulcet tone came in softly, “Why were you crying that day? April 13th, almost four years ago...”

Patton’s voice was as gentle on his ears as his fingers threading through his hair, even as it sounded like his heart was breaking, “My cousin tried to kill themself.” Logan felt his heart shatter for good this time. He could barely stop his arms wrapping firmly around Patton as he reassured him. Reassured him. Like Logan had any right to be the one who needed comfort. “It’s alright, Logan, they’re okay! They’re fine now, but it was… I was really scared back then. I was the only one home at the time.”. Patton took a breath, “Like I said, they’re alright now. They’re married and everything-”

“I’m so sorry.”, Logan couldn’t hear it. No, he wouldn’t hear it. Patton was banned from reassuring him when Logan should be begging for Patton’s forgiveness instead. “You …. You needed me. And I repaid your cry for help with such anger. You were hurting, Patton!”, his hands gently held Patton’s soft cheeks in their palms, “You were hurting-! And I-!”

“You couldn’t have known, Logan-”

“I knew enough! I knew you were in pain, for goodness sakes, Patton, I could feel it! I couldn’t stop crying for almost a full hour! I felt the same fear and sorrow you felt, but I-!”

Patton gently pressed his delicate fingertips to Logan’s lips.

“And I repaid your attempt to apologise with spite.” 

Met with a confused expression, Patton continued, “I… Your anger did hurt me. I won’t lie to you, I could never lie to you. But I was so hurt, by the time I could feel your guilt, I… I’d resigned myself to stop feeling intense emotions ever again.”. The sad smile Patton presented made Logan wish magic existed, just so he could banish anything that made Patton sad to the dark recesses of space forever. 

“At first, it really was just... sheer spite. You weren’t the only hormonal teenage disaster, Logan.”

The curt laugh that dragged itself out of Logan was so jarring, he himself didn’t know where it had come from, but Patton was just so happy that he felt comfortable enough to do so, continuing on, “I was only going to stop for a week at most really, but I got too inside my own head. Maybe I am a burden. Maybe I am just causing him trouble with all my emotions. Maybe I should stop causing trouble and being such a nuisance. But if I’d-... If I’d known you thought that I was dead-! That you thought all this time you were alone I-”

Logan didn’t let him finish. Gently silencing Patton with a soft tap of fingertips to lips so soft they felt how Logan imagined an angel’s would feel, Logan softly leant forward to press his own lips to Patton’s. While Logan knew nothing he did could truly make up for the pain he caused Patton, the very least he could do was show that he very much needed no apologies from his soulmate. 

Their kiss was shorter than either would have liked - due to the interruption of their roommates walking in to find them lost in the moment - but Logan couldn’t say it wasn’t as perfect as he’d hoped it could be. 

Hours later, as another game night drew to a close with both Virgil and Patton spending the night with their respective soulmates, Logan held Patton closer as the shorter man curled into Logan’s body heat. 

As he brushed a loving hand through beautiful strawberry blonde curls and admired the sleeping face of the young man in his arms, Logan went to sleep that night feeling happier than he had in years..

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

I’m ready for people to stab me for this one lmao.. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist [ask to be included]: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[benex78]

Forgive our Sins

5 years after the events of Immortality, Sara and Grissom are living back in Las Vegas when a ghost from their past reappears in their life forcing them to face some old decisions. GSR of course! Enjoy it! I hope you like it and please review it! (Sorry if there are mistakes but I'm not a native English speaker and a special thanks to my friend LuLu for reading it)

PART 1 They went through a lot together during their 16 years long relationship. She left him and the sin city, he went to Costa Rica for her, they got married, they got divorced, she went to San Diego and sailed with him. They hurt each other more than once, but their love never stopped. In the end, they gave up their carriers to stay together, got married again and now they were finally living happily together. Grissom and Sara are back in Vegas, living in a small house in the university district. While Sara works as a consultant for the crime lab, Gil is a part-time professor of entomology who tends to stick his nose in his wife’s forensic cases. 14 years have passed since the miniature killer events and Natalie Davis is still in prison. In her cell she keeps a collection of miniatures and she is now working on a new one. She interrupts her work on the miniature to write a letter. It’s a difficult one: she had tried to write this letter so many times without success, in fact there are a few ripped sheets of paper on the floor. This time is different, she manages to use the rights words and, once done, she sends the envelope to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. It’s addressed to Sara Sidle. What does she want from Sara? Does she want to make amends? Does she want to go after her again? PART 2 A car is parked outside Sara and Grissom's house and the driver is observing Sara. One day on her way to work, Sara notices him and tries to run away, but suddenly she’s caught in an incident. She is brought to the hospital where a frightened Grissom arrives. Fortunately, Sara is fine, she only has some bruises and she is soon allowed to leave the hospital to go home with her husband. Sara tells Grissom what happened and now they fear someone is chasing them. Thanks to the street CCTVs the police finds and arrests the stalker, however the man has nothing to do with the accident. Thus, he is released, but not after securing a conversation with Sara Sidle. He is a private detective and he needs to talk to Sara because his client, a woman named Kelly Ross, wants to meet her. Sara asks the detective the reason for this meeting and he responds that Mrs. Ross instructed him to reveal only in which part of Vegas she lives and, most importantly, that they have someone in common. Sara is caught off guard as she doesn’t know what to expect from this. However, she can’t help but feel curious. PART 3 On their day off Grissom drives Sara to Mrs. Ross, but he waits outside in the car. He is worried but he respects Sara’s decision to go in alone. When opening the door, Mrs. Ross welcomes Sara with a warm hug then she lets her in. Gil Grissom observes the whole scene speechless. When Sara comes back couple of hours later, she is in shock and immediately askes Grissom to take her home. He wants to know about the meeting, yet Sara begs him to give her some time to put her thoughts together. That evening in their kitchen Sara tells him a story she kept for herself for far too long. FLASHBACK:13 YEARS EARLIER The miniature killer had changed everything: the team had found about her relationship with Grissom, she had to join swing and above all she felt something inside her had broken and no one, not even Griss, could do anything to help her. She was so depressed that she decided to leave Vegas and the love of her life. She was in L.A. visiting her mom when she started to feel unwell. It took her a few days to even conceive the idea that she could be pregnant. She went to the nearest drugstore and paid for a test that she took directly in the customers toilet. She waited in there for almost an hour with the result in her hands: POSITIVE! How could it be? She didn’t want a child and Grissom neither. They talked about this at the beginning of their story and even more recently when he proposed. They (she and Griss) were the only family they wanted. How could she tell Grissom something like that? At least by phone she could avoid looking into his eyes and see his disappointment. She went back to her motel room and waited for the morning to come. She didn’t sleep all night, she kept looking at the clock on the wall. When she was sure Grissom could be home from work, she called him. He picked up almost immediately. She heard him giggling at the other side of the phone, but his joy faded at the news. Sara was so depressed; their relationship was stalling and surely, he wasn’t ready to be a father. Thus, they both agreed to end the pregnancy. Grissom offered to come to L.A. to be close to her, but Sara declined. She wanted to do it alone and he didn’t complain. She had just booked an appointment at a private clinic, when her mother got sick, so she had to postpone the whole thing. When she finally got there 3 weeks later, it was too late to proceed with the abortion. She had no another choice but to contact the social services to find a family for her unborn child.  She never told Gilbert she carried their baby and that he was put up for adoption. To him, this was a dead story. Just 10 days before Warwick’s murder she delivered a healthy baby boy who she held only briefly in her arms before giving him away. When she came back to Vegas, Grissom was so devastated he didn’t even notice her body didn’t have the usual silhouette and she kept the secret for herself. Until now. Sara’s confession is very painful, she fears Gilbert’s reaction. She fears he will hate her and never forgive her for taking his son away. However, Grissom isn’t angry. He seems quite relieved instead. Grissom reaches his hand out across the table and places it on top of Sara’s, giving it a gentle squeeze: - I don’t begrudge you honey. In the end, you did what we had decided. At the time we didn’t want a kid and you didn’t keep it. Honestly, I’m quite happy it went this way. – Sara raises her head: - Really? – Grissom admits: - Yeah, because now, 13 years later, we are talking about someone we created, someone who has our genes and who probably is still alive. Even if he is somewhere, we don’t know where and who raised him – Sara reveals: - Gil, his name is Dylan, he is here in Vegas and Mrs. Ross is his adoptive mother – Grissom is astonished: - What? He’s in Vegas right now? Did you see him? – Sara shakes her head: - No, he was at school - Grissom: - How did Mrs. Ross find you? – Sara: - I can’t explain it, but since I had decided for an open adoption, she must have assumed a detective to find me. - Grissom: - But why now? – Sara: - Because she wants to give us a second chance – Grissom: - Sorry I don’t get it – Sara: - She is dying, she has terminal cancer and her husband has died of Covid last year. She fears that once she’s dead her boy will end up living in an institute until his 18th birthday. -   Grissom’s heart starts beating fast, he can’t bear it any more. Maybe it’s his age but he wants to be a father now. However, he knows everything it’s up to his Sara: - Can we…? What do you want to do? - Sara: - Honestly… I don’t know – Grissom: - Sara, we are his parents! – Sara’s answer is firm: - No, we lost that right a long time ago Gil! – Grissom corrects himself: - You are right, but we have to do something. Don’t you want to get to know him? To see who he looks like? – Sara:  - Of course I want to, but I am also terrified. I abandoned him. For all I know he could hate me. – Gil replies: - He could love you. -   Sara gives Grissom a sad smile. Grissom tries to lift her spirit: - He could be a geek like us - Sara announces: - Gil, he is a special boy, he is not like the other kids – Grissom asks: -What do you mean? – Sara: - Mrs. Ross told me Dylan can’t hear, he has a genetic disease that made him almost deaf 5 years ago. Grissom is hurt, he can’t find the words to express his feelings. Sara notices his reaction and she gently touches his leg. Sara: - Are you ok? – Grissom nods: - I just don’t know how to feel about this: happy because I have something in common with my son or sad that I passed this pain to him It's all my...  – Sara raises Gilbert’s chin, she cuts him off this time, shaking her head: "No, it's not. and it's not right to put the blame all on you. We both made stupid decisions in our relationship that lead us to where we are now." She takes a breath and speaks again more softly. "Now, I just want to put all of that behind us and start over..." Grissom clears his throat and asks in a more serious tone: - So... what do you think? –   Sara takes both his hands in her and smiled a little: - I think we are going to speak with Kelly Ross and arrange a meeting with Dylan. Ok? – Grissom nods satisfied. Sara: - Let’s see what happens but we have to keep our hopes grounded – Grissom: - Ok… Come here – and takes Sara in his arms: - I love you, no matter what! – Sara leans towards him. She looks him in his eyes and responds with a tender kiss on his lips whispering against them "I love you too”.

PART 4 Sara spends the week working and thinking, thinking and working. Tension and expectations building up every day, more and more. In her mind Sara has imagined their meeting with Dylan at least 300 times, she has repeated all the possible things she could say to him, but every time his reaction is bad and the meeting goes wrong. Even Grissom is anxious; nonetheless he tries to distract Sara: he invites her to see one of his lessons at the university, he proposes a trip on a boat over the lake Mead and he takes her out to dinner. The Italian restaurant they go to is one of their favorites. They eat a very good lasagna and they drink a little more than they usually do, just to relax. Once at home, they go to bed. They face each other but, thinking of the day ahead, they can’t sleep. Grissom: - It’s gonna be fine – Sara: - You can’t know that – Gil caresses her hair: - No, but we have to stay positive – Sara takes Gil’s hand and brings it to her cheek: - I don’t know what to tell him – Gil’s finger brushes her lips: - The truth! If he asks, we’ll tell him the truth - Sara: - But? – Grissom: - Honey, if we want his trust, we have to be honest. We can’t lie. - Sara: - I am scared! -   Grissom: - Me too – and he slowly kisses her. She returns the kiss as they are taken by the passion of their bodies, entangled in one. Their minds are lost in the rhythm of that primordial act of desire, they know so well. They are just flesh and skin, sweat and moans. PART 5 It’s afternoon and they are sitting in a park near Dylan’s school. The sight of the boy approaching them with his mother takes their breath away. Kelly greets them from afar and points them to her son. They stand up and walk in their direction. Sara and Grissom stop when they are in front of Dylan and Kelly.  4 souls, 4 people meant to be a family finally together.  Dylan is a mini version of Grissom. He is not so tall but he’s slim. He has short curly brown hair. His eyes are blue and curios. Behind his left ear he has a hearing aid. Kelly addresses them to Dylan; she gestures in sign language and tells him: - They are the friends I was talking to you about. – Grissom takes courage and speaks first, gesturing his words: - Hi Dylan, my name is Gilbert and she is my wife Sara. We are happy to meet you. Your mother told us a lot about you. – Sara: - Hi, sorry but my sign language is a little rusty. I will try to improve. – Dylan: - Don’t worry, I can hear you (he indicates the implant to Sara). Moreover, I’ve learned to read lips. You, (he addresses to Grissom) on the other hand are very good. – Grissom: - Thanks. My mum was deaf, she taught me – Dylan nods pondering the answer. Sara tries to break the silence: - How was your day? Do you like school? – Kelly intervenes: - He is the best of his class – Dylan gives her a little buff on her right arm: - Mum please! – Kelly smiles: - He is shy, he doesn't like to brag – Grissom and Sara, grinning, exchange a look of complicity mixed with pride: - We can imagine – Dylan fixes them and he asks abruptly: - Why don’t you tell me who you really are? – Grissom and Sara almost choke: - What? – Kelly scolds him: - Dylan?! – Dylan continues: - You are my real parents, aren’t you? Sara feels responsible and wants to give him an answer: - You are right, I’m your birth mother and he is your father. – Dylan insists: - Why are you here? – Kelly: - I asked them to come – Dylan turns to his mother in shock but Kelly goes on: - I have to know that you would be safe, cared for and loved when I will be gone – Dylan: - How could you think that I would stay with someone who abandoned me? – Kelly interrupts them: - You three need to talk, you need to know each other. Dylan please, you have to listen to them – Dylan: - I don’t want to – and he runs away. Kelly touches Sara’s shoulder, she feels her pain and apologizes for Dylan’s reaction: - Give him some time.  He is a good boy… he’s very smart – Grissom sighs: - I see – Sara is ashamed: - He is right, I made a mistake. – Kelly tries to soothe her by saying: - We all make mistakes, Sara – Sara: - But he is the one who’s paying the consequences of that mistake – Grissom: - We had our reasons, dear– Sara locks her eyes on Gil: - and why does it all seem so wrong now? – Kelly: - Let me talk to him – Sara replies: - No, I want to try - Sara goes to look for Dylan; Grissom follows her but she turns and stops him: - Give me 5 minutes – Gil nods; she approaches the boy. He is sitting on a swing. Sara asks him permission with a soft voice: - Can I? – Dylan shrugs his shoulders and Sara sits in the swing next to him. The boy leaps down and faces her. Sara: - I’m so sorry for everything, Dylan. I’m sorry for your mum, for your dad, for your earing problems, and above all I'm sorry for what I did to you. – Dylan: - Why did you leave me? – Sara tries her best to formulate an answer: - It’s complicated.... I wasn’t feeling very well. Something bad had happened to me. – Dylan interrupts her: - My father? Did he hurt you? – Sara: - No, absolutely not. He has always been kind to me – she invites Grissom to join them and he moves in their direction. – I was, I still am a Crime Scene Investigator. Do you know what it is? – Dylan nods and Sara continues: - I was working on a case, and a serial killer kidnapped me and left me to die. I managed to escape, your father and other members of my team saved me – Dylan listens very carefully. – But after that, nothing was the same. I was broken and unhappy. I wasn’t myself anymore and I couldn’t stay there. I went away from your father, from this town, from my old life. I could not be a good mother for you, you deserved more. – Dylan looks at Sara and then Grissom and says: - You are married now – Sara declares: - We got back together 5 years ago. – Grissom kneels in front of Dylan: - We're not here to be your parents, you already have them – Dylan states: - My mum is great! – Grissom agrees: - It’s true. We just want to know you, Dylan! – Sara teases: - Can you give us a chance? – Dylan thinks and then asks Sara something that has always intrigued him: - Did you give me a name before.. you .. ? Sara affirms instantly: - Arthur, I named you Arthur –

LITTLE FLASHBACK OF 13 YEARS EARLIER Sara was holding her baby when a nurse entered the room to take him. The social assistant was waiting outside. The woman checked the papers she had filled in. On the birth certificate she had written her name, Gilbert’s, and a new one: ARTHUR. She gave her baby a kiss on the forehead and passed him to the nurse who left the room, closing the door to a crying Sara. Grissom turns towards Sara, surprised by her admission. Sara looks at him directly in his eyes: - It’s your father’s middle name! – Dylan chuckles, satisfied by the answer: - It’s my middle name too – Sara is grateful that the Ross in some way had kept the name she had chosen for him. Dylan remarks: - My father was a pastor, he always told me to forgive the others. I’m forgiving you! – They give him an appreciative smile before Grissom touches his head saying: - He’d be very proud – Dylan nods and walks over to an emotional Sara. He wipes a tear from her face, similarly to what Gilbert would have done. She whispers a thank you to him, then they return to the bench where Kelly was sitting, watching the whole scene.

PART 6 Grissom and Sara start seeing Dylan every day after school. Their bond gets deeper and deeper. Dylan looks more at ease with them. He loves spending time with Gil, making experiments, going fishing or sailing. They find a new balance in their lives. Every once in a while, he even spends the night with them. The guest bedroom has become his room now. Kelly’s cancer on the other hand gets worse and she ends in hospital. It’s a Wednesday morning when Sara picks up Dylan from school and brings him to the hospital to give his mother one last hug. Kelly Ross dies at 2.00 PM of that same day and Dylan cries in the arms of Gilbert.  At the funeral he stands between Sara and Grissom. He is brave but silent. Over the last year, he has lost both of his parents and found two new ones. It’s strange how life takes an unexpected turn sometimes and turns up the way it should have from the beginning.  In fact, before her death, Kelly had arranged things so that Sara and Gil could have full custody of the boy and become a family.

PART 7 Sara is in a hurry; she greets her boss and some other members of the team as she prepares to leave the office. The receptionist at the desk calls her back and gives her some correspondence. She doesn’t have time to read it, she will do it later with calm. All she wants to do now is to go home to her boys and to enjoy the evening with them. After dinner Dylan does his homework in the living room, Gil prepares his lesson and Sara tidies the kitchen up. She suddenly remembers the letters in her purse, so she takes a break to read them. An envelope without a sender attracts her attention. She rips the envelope and her jaw drops.

Dear Sara Sidle, I’m Natalie Davis, you probably remember me as the miniature killer. I’ve been thinking of you very often lately. I know, I don’t have the right to write to you after all this time, but my journey here in prison made me reflect on my actions and on what I have done to you and to the other victims. I’m so sorry Mrs Sidle, I can’t change the past and my apologies can’t relieve your pain or what you’ve lost. I was angry and I seeked vengeance for no real reason except because I couldn’t accept the daemons from my past. I should have known that that wasn’t the answer but I was too lost. I hold Mr Grissom responsible for the death of Arnie Dell and I tried to take you away from him because of his love for you. However, and now I know this, it was not his fault and you were a collateral damage in my inner war. I don’t deserve your forgiveness; I’m not searching for redemption. I’m just happy that you are alive. I also hope life has been kind to you and that Mr Grissom is still by your side.                                                                                                      Sincerely, Natalie Davis                    

Sara confronts Grissom about the letter and what to do next. They are concerned, still they decide to go to the county jail to see Natalie in person. As CSI they get a special permit to meet her in the interrogation room. The door opens and a guard escorts Natalie Davis inside. She is handcuffed and she’s wearing an orange suit. For the first time in 14 years she, Sara and Gil are in the same room. The guard moves to stand in a corner and Natalie sits at the table. Natalie is surprised by this visit: - I didn’t expect you to come. - Sara: - I didn’t expect your letter either. - They contemplate in silence for some time. Natalie clears her throat: - Anyway, thank you. Your presence here is very important to me – Sara replies: - I’m here because I wanted to look you in the eyes, to make sure your words were true and your regret sincere. Natalie: - Mrs. Sidle, I don’t know what to do to prove it to you - Sara: - You wrote you don’t deserve forgiveness… – Natalie: - No, I don’t. I’m a sinner and I need to be punished for my sins! – Sara: - Hmmm. It was not easy to understand it but now, now I’ve got it. We have different backgrounds, different stories but we have one thing in common – Natalie looks confused. Sara continues: - We are survivors, Natalie! We are women with physical and psychological scars. I could have surrendered to the difficulties that life put in front of me, as you did, but I decided to move on and I’m still doing it – Sara grabs Gilbert’s hand and squeezes it. They exchange a tender look. They both smile before Sara shakes her head and goes on: – Therefore, I forgive you! – Natalie is incredulous: - Why are you so good to me after all I’ve done? - Sara: - I’m not good, I just think this place and your sense of guilt are enough for me. We cannot live in resentment forever, and you know what? I’ve learned such an important lesson from a very mature 13 years old boy who has been through hell in such a short time. Goodbye Natalie. - Sara and Gil stand up and leave the room, Natalie and her nightmares behind. Dylan will be home soon with some of his friends. Tonight, they will go to the Luna park, they will ride the rollercoaster and then eat pizza. Their future is definitely bright.

THE END

[wallwriterstuff]

Teeth || Demetri Volturi x Reader ||

A request from @volturidoll13 that is continued from this headcanon right here ——-> Demetri Reacting to a Stimming Reader <——-. I hope I’ve done you justice once more with this one chickadee :D </b>

Part 2: This fic

Part 3: Control (fic)

Warnings: TW for anxiety. Readers stimming will stem from anxiety, if you are having a rough time with yours right now be careful reading this one, and please know you’re not alone! I guess maybe a warning for biting to? There’s some biting going on.

Words: 2620

Summary: It’s been a little over two months since Demetri discovered your stimming. He’s remained vigilant ever since, keeping your anxiety at bay with a whole host of tips and tricks he’s learned over the course of your time together. The one thing he cannot stop is the march of time, and yours is running out fast…

You weren’t sure what had made you so nervous back then, why Demetri finding about your autism was such a big deal, why you were so afraid your stimming would be an issue between you both, that your anxiety and it’s side effects would somehow ruin his perception of you. In reality, telling Demetri the whole truth had been the best thing you had ever done. His sensitivity was astounding to you, because he really was diligent in checking in with you and keeping things as calm as possible in your now shared room – your baths had become a now weekly occurrence. He never treated you like you were made of porcelain either despite all his little interventions, no, he whole-heartedly encouraged your every attempt to explore and integrate yourself into the Volturi with your new found confidence, but when you needed the support he was always prepared.

Your newfound confidence came with a price.

After just a week of venturing out of your shared room you had been called to the throne room, a terrifying moment in itself given you had met them only once before to explain why you hadn’t been bleeding out with the rest of your tour group on the floor, and Aro had taken your hand with a sickly smile before joyfully exclaiming something in Italian you had had no idea how to go about translating. That was two months ago, and now you had only a single month left to live before you joined them in their immortality, perpetually frozen as you were, never moving forward, never evolving. The concept was terrifying given the stories you’d heard of newborns. You didn’t want to hurt people or be that volatile little newborn who became violent on a whim. You didn’t want to feel the inferno in your throat begging you to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty against a race you were currently still apart of.

A month left of mortality.

A month left before you became someone entirely new.

Felix’s sudden grunt snapped you out of that particular reverie, and you blinked at the bright sunlight invading your eyes despite the shade you had situated yourself in under a twisted old red maple, planted in Didyme’s honour oh so long ago and still going strong thanks to Aro’s tender loving care. They had chosen to sit beneath the branches simply because it made their skin sparkle less, which was far easier on your eyes and far less distracting since you had a tendency to try and rub off Demetri’s sparkles, like they were glitter on his skin you could just remove. Jane was smiling at your giant friend, whose teeth were clenched tight before he suddenly relaxed and shot her a glare.

“Now now children play nicely.” Demetri chided from beside you. He’d been sat a while, smoothly redirecting conversation from you when he saw your attention falter. You had been zoning in and out a lot the past few days, your mind clearly elsewhere. He’d kept half an eye on you as the twins debated a book they’d been reading the past week, Felix teasing them as was his usual manner until Jane caved to the temptation to cripple him with her trademarked glare. You clearly were not okay, but you hadn’t come to him to say as such just yet, so he’d not pressured you into talking. Perhaps after this afternoon he should? You usually jumped at any chance you got to spend time with them all, enjoying the social interaction after the long days you spent either studying Italian or with them absent performing duties you would soon help them undertake.

“What do you think Y/N? You said you’d read The Hunger Games before, what do you think of the idea that the death of Primrose is symbolic of the death of the last of Katniss’s innocence?” Alec questioned. The boy was equally as perceptive as Demetri, having found himself insatiably curious since the day Demetri had quietly spoken with them about it to ensure they didn’t harass you, and consequently had gone on to read everything he could get his hands on about your condition. It was painfully obvious to all of them your head wasn’t in the conversation but none of them brought it up, instead finding ways to lead you seamlessly back into the group when you wandered off. Your brows furrowed as you tried to think over Alec’s question, but your mind was pulled in too many directions at once. You were so focused on the dark thoughts swirling around your future immortality that your mind struggled to conjure the image of the book cover, never mind its contents.

“Erm…I don’t really…she lost it way before that.” You stumbled your way through the answer and it was audible to everyone there the way your teeth clanked together when your jaw clenched. You did your best not to flinch as Demetri cast you a concerned glance. You’d been doing that a lot, your teeth gnashing and grinding as you clenched your jaw over and over. It was a tic he had seen before, though not quite as frequently as this, and it set alarm bells ringing in his head as a thousand articles and memories hit him full force. Alec hummed, not looking entirely like he agreed with you while Jane grinned, triumph in her eyes.

“Ha! See brother, I told you!” she didn’t seemingly notice the way you flinched, teeth gnashing audibly once more at her exclamation. Alec’s face was immediately taken over by a scowl, and the pair were bickering once more while Felix watched on with obvious amusement. Demetri had given you his sole attention instead, tuning out their argument to instead take notice of the way the muscles in your jaw moved, your gaze distant and entirely unfocused as you lost yourself to your thoughts again. He didn’t actually think you were aware of the way your hand moved until he gently snatched it mid-air. You blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the frozen fingers clasped around your wrist, centimetres from your open mouth that you quickly snapped closed. Demetri made no comment after that, sliding his hand up to intertwine your fingers together and squeeze your palm lightly.

You squeezed back with a weak smile, mentally already berating yourself for your behaviour. You hadn’t even noticed you were about to bite yourself but now you had you could feel the way your jaw ached, the entire lower part of your jaw tense from the amount your stimming had overworked it that afternoon. Demetri soothingly ran his thumb in circles over your knuckles but even his cool touch wasn’t enough to drag you from your misery today. You had less than a month to live and there was so much you wouldn’t get to do after that. You had always wanted to travel to try some of your favourite foods in their home contexts – you could only imagine how good authentic Chinese food would taste. You wanted to sleep in a five-star hotel just to see what a memory foam mattress might do to improve your sleep.

It was all trivial stuff (you were painfully aware since Caius had told you so when you’d brought it up) but they were simple things for your bucket list, you dared not even consider the big dreams you had because they would be impossible once you were-

“Ah ah ah.” Demetri caught your hand again. He still held one in his grip but the other had whipped up to make it’s way into your mouth. You completely disregarded his warning, a burning need inside of you driving your head forward in an effort to clamp your teeth around your finger, sure in the knowledge it would bring some relief if you could manage it. Demetri didn’t let you, and your head quickly turned for his hand instead. He didn’t comment when your teeth almost broke trying to break through his skin. You immediately recoiled, both horrified and mortified at what you had done, but despite the fact you wouldn’t meet his eyes, Demetri pulled you close to his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“What have I told you about apologising to me about this?” he tutted, lifting your chin with one of his index fingers. He quickly had to let go when your hand flashed up to your mouth again, desperate to chew down on something.

“To stop apologising. Sor-er…I…” you cringed, the apology ready to fall from your lips but your fear of disappointing him latching it’s claws into you and making you bite down on your tongue instead.

“You never need to apologise to me for this my love, I love every part of you, even the parts of you you struggle to love yourself.” Demetri assured you quietly. Your teeth began to grind once more because what if he didn’t see you that same way after your change? What if your crimson eyes and still heart were abhorrent to him since he revered your human-self so much?

“Can we go?” you mumbled, your head spinning with all the worrisome thoughts tumbling about it. Demetri searched your face briefly as he nodded, very well aware that this wasn’t something he could encourage you to keep fighting and you needed to tap out now and recover.

“Of course. Excuse us you three.” He glanced to them briefly, knowing they’d have heard your quiet conversation anyway so to lie would be pointless. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, too embarrassed by your stimming today to meet their eyes. You’d bitten your vampire mate in front of them, after all.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, keeping your head down as you walked along beside him. Demetri hadn’t let go of one of your hands, squeezing gently every now and then to try and encourage you to channel your anxiety into your hand instead of your mouth. Perhaps he ought to buy you a stressball? You’d liked the last one, though it had disappeared somewhere around the castle and sadly, his gift only worked on people and not tracking down inanimate objects.  

“Don’t thank me yet, might I give you some advice?” he enquired. You looked up at him, your expression inviting him warily to speak, though you weren’t sure what he could add since this was your lived experience, and one he had only read about. “As you go to bite down open your mouth a fraction wider, it will allow you to clamp your teeth into a wider surface area and hold your prey stiller.” He advised, half a smirk dancing on his lips. He was failing abysmally at trying to hide it.

“I – excuse me?” you were somewhat astonished he’d given you advice on how to bite yourself better. What happened to your caring mate? The one who did his best to help you calm your anxiety. The one who held your hand on nights it felt like you couldn’t breathe?

“I thought it would be sound advice,” he said, giving up on his efforts now to fight back his smirk, “As my little vampire in training, you need to know how to bite down properly. If I had been your prey just now I would have easily escaped, and you would be left hungry.” You stopped stock still, eyes bugging a bit in your head as your brain just…stopped working.

“What…did you just call me?” you asked. Demetri had walked on ahead as if nothing was wrong, but he paused to turn back towards you now with a shit-eating grin on his face, crimson eyes sparkling.

“My little vampire in training. Unless of course, you would prefer puppy? They chew on things to, no?” he tilted his head at you while your jaw dropped. Just for a brief moment there was clarity in your head, the sheer absurdity of his comment punching through all your anxious thoughts. You felt you should be insulted, was it an insult? Coming from someone other than Demetri maybe it would be but this was the man who listened to every little thought in your head, wiped away every tear and held you while you cried. No, Demetri could never do you harm, whether it was with words or fists he was bound to protect you always, he was incapable of insulting you meaningfully.

“Your little – Demetri!” you scolded. God did your jaw ache. He chuckled.

“Alright alright forgive me…though can I say, I feared your bite far more than Felix’s.” he held out his hand to you and you automatically sidled up to slip your palm against his, Demetri turning you both back in the direction of your shared room before you began to walk once more.

“Felix’s has bitten you?” you asked, your curiosity sparked.

“Oh yes. You see, when I first joined the Guard Felix was assigned to my combat training. He won every round. I, however, am a quick learner, and once I began to pick up his teachings I won my first spar against him quite easily…and the one after that, and the one after that…he gets bitey when he loses.” He revealed. You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you imagine the hulking man tossed onto his back by your own, lithe tracker. It was a funny enough sight in itself, but adding the image of him lunging with teeth barred to gnaw on your mate was even funnier. It should have been frightening but you knew the gentle giant too well to think he would ever attack his comrades with any malicious intent.

“Alec best watch his back then, he’s getting close to Felix’s high score on Crash Bandicoot.” You mused. Demetri snorted briefly.

“Yet another fun story…Alec once locked himself in his room for three whole days when Jane picked up one of his games and completed a level he’d been stuck on for weeks on her first try.” He told you. Your smile grew a little wider, stretching across your face as you imagined the calmer witch twin throwing said hissy fit. Demetri continued his stories long after you entered your room, laying on his side with you opposite him as he regaled you with one story after another. Aro had once dropped a book on his foot after a late night of studying, looked around to ensure nobody had seen, and stuffed it back on the shelf so fast he had placed it back upside down. Jane had a beautiful singing voice but had been startled so badly by Felix interrupting her once she’d slipped right up the scale on the last word and tortured poor Felix for a whole hour straight for ruining her song.

Story after story you listened, enraptured by his smooth baritone while he played with your hair, soothing your turbulent mind as you focused on his words and his words alone. You might wake up tomorrow and find you were once more trapped in the cycle of anxiety that you were hard-pressed to escape one it got you in it’s clutches, or maybe this blessed moment of relief would last and tomorrow you would be free once more for a little bit longer until the next moment something you felt was too big too manage came along. For today, Demetri had lulled you to sleep against his side, your breathing slow and even for the first time that day. Whatever you had to face next, whatever challenges might come your way, you knew on your worst days Demetri would always be with you to help you overcome them, armed with all the latest mummyblog advice for you to rebuke.

[princegeorgeofwales]

7 things we learnt from Kate Middleton's revealing motherhood podcast with Giovanna Fletcher

The Duchess of Cambridge preferred labour to pregnancy

"I got very bad morning sickness. I'm not the happiest of pregnant people. Lots of people have it far, far worse. It was definitely a challenge. Not just for me, but also for your loved ones around you and I think that's the thing - being pregnant and having a newborn baby and things like that, impacts everybody in the family. William didn't feel he could do much to help and it's hard to see you're suffering without actually being able to do anything about it."

"[It was] utterly rotten. I was really sick. I wasn't eating the things I should be eating and yet the body was still able to take all the goodness from my body and to grow new life, which I think is fascinating." Kate admitted that because of her difficult pregnancies, she actually preferred being in labour. "Because it had been so bad during pregnancy, I actually really quite liked labour… Because actually it was an event that I knew there was going to be an ending to! But I know some people have really, really difficult times, so it's not for everybody. No pregnancy is the same, no birth is the same."

The Duchess of Cambridge used hypnobirthing

Like Giovanna and other famous mums, Kate tried hypnobirthing too. When asked, "Am I right in thinking you did Hypnobirthing?" the Duchess replied: "Yes! Actually it was through hyperemesis that I really realised the power of the mind over the body because I really had to try everything and everything to try and help me through it. There are levels of it. I'm not going to say that William was standing there chanting sweet nothings at me! He definitely wasn't, [laughing] I didn't even ask him about it, but it was just something I wanted to do for myself. I saw the power of it, really, the meditation and the deep breathing and things like that that they teach you in hypnobirthing when I was really sick and actually I realised that this was something that I could take control of, I suppose, during labour. It was hugely powerful."

Standing outside the Lindo Wing was 'terrifying'

With all three of her children, the Duchess presented her newborn babies to press and to the world as she posed outside the Lindo Wing of St Mary's Hospital in Paddington, London. Admittedly, Kate revealed it was a "terrifying" experience. "What was it like knowing that so many people were outside, after you've given birth and you're in your little cocoon with your new family?" asked Giovanna.

"Yeah, slightly terrifying, slightly terrifying, I'm not going to lie (laughter)," said Kate. "Everyone had been so supportive and both William and I were really conscious that this was something that everyone was excited about and you know we're hugely grateful for the support that the public had shown us, and actually for us to be able to share that joy and appreciation with the public, I felt was really important. But equally it was coupled with a newborn baby, and inexperienced parents, and the uncertainty of what that held, so there were all sorts of mixed emotions."

Of the moment she held George for the first time, Kate, who didn't know the sex of her baby, revealed: "Amazing, amazing. It is extraordinary as I've said. How can the human body do that? It is utterly extraordinary, actually. And he was very sweet. And also sort of relieved that he was a happy, healthy boy."

Prince William and Kate struggled as new parents

The Duchess was very open in how she and husband William fared with their first baby. When Giovanna asked, "How many hours after giving birth did you come out?" Kate recalled: "I… Oh my gosh, I can't remember. Everything goes in a bit of a blur. I think, yeah I did stay in hospital overnight, I remember it was one of the hottest days and night with huge thunderstorms so I didn't get a huge amount of sleep, but George did which was really great.

"I was keen to get home because, for me, being in hospital, I had all the memories of being in hospital because of being sick so it wasn't a place I wanted to hang around in. So, I was really desperate to get home and get back to normality. But I think you think, particularly with your firstborn baby, you think everything is going to go back to how it was. I totally underestimated the impact and the change it had on us from that moment really and I think, unless you've got children, you don't realise. No amount of planning and preparation can get you ready for that moment."

Mum-of-three Giovanna mused: "When you leave hospital and get home [after giving birth], I remember that eerie silence…" to which Kate revealed: "It wasn't that quiet in our household! William was like, 'oh my gosh, is this what parenting is going to be like?' No, it took us a bit of time to get ourselves settled and going again, but that's the beauty I suppose of having a newborn baby. You are pulled to your toughest and most unknown places really that you hadn't necessarily even have thought about before."

The Duchess of Cambridge on mum guilt

When asked whether she struggles with mum guilt, Kate replied: "Yes absolutely – and anyone who doesn't as a mother is actually lying! Yep – all the time, yep – and you know even this morning, coming to the nursery visit here – George and Charlotte were like 'Mummy how could you possibly not be dropping us off at school this morning?' But no it's a constant challenge – you hear it time and time again from mums, even mums who aren't necessarily working and aren't pulled in the directions of having to juggle work life and family life… and always sort of questioning your own decisions and your own judgements and things like that, and I think that starts from the moment you have a baby!

"Also I feel huge responsibility because what I've learnt over the last few years is so fascinating and I definitely would have done things differently, even during my pregnancy, than I would have done now... Because you know - the science - and I found that fascinating to see the wellbeing of the mother – not just physically, you know there's so much information about making sure you exercise and making sure you have a healthy diet and things like that, which yes is definitely important. But the emotional wellbeing of the mother directly impacts the baby that you're growing."

The one piece of advice the Duchess of Cambridge would give her younger self

"If you could write a letter to anyone about motherhood, who would it be to and what would you say," asked Giovanna. "Can I write back to myself? Is that really weird? I think I'd have liked to have written to myself at the beginning of my pregnancy with my first child because I think through I have experienced – not only as a mother but also what I've learned on my journey through, digging deeper into the early years landscape – I've learned a huge amount but I'd really love to go back and tell myself at the beginning of pregnancy, right at the start what things I feel now really matter in terms of being a parent but also what really matters to the children and my children now.

"It's the simple things that really make a difference. It's spending quality time with your children. It's not whether you've done every single drop off and every single pick up but actually it's those quality moments you spend with your child when you're properly listening to them, properly understanding what they feel, and actually when things are going wrong, actually really taking time to think, 'how as a mother am I feeling? Am I actually making this worse for my child because actually this has brought up all sorts of things that I feel rather than just focusing on them and how they might be reacting or responding to certain situations?' That would be another piece of advice I would like to give myself back then.

"Someone did ask me the other day, what would you want your children to remember about their childhood? And I thought that was a really good question because actually if you really think about that, is it that I'm sitting down trying to do their maths and spelling homework over the weekend? Or is it the fact that we've gone out and lit a bonfire and sat around trying to cook sausages that hasn't worked because it's too wet? That's what I would want them to remember, those moments with me as a mother, but also the family going to the beach, getting soaking wet, filling our boots full of water, those are what I would want them to remember. Not a stressful household where you're trying to do everything and not really succeeding at one thing."

The Duchess of Cambridge's 5 Big Questions Survey

On her survey on early childhood, Kate said: "Hopefully it's the first small step into looking at prevention and it's not just about happy, healthy children. This is actually for lifelong consequences and outcomes. I was looking at one of the stats. I think there is £17 billion estimated in England and Wales alone that is spent on late intervention and it's crazy - not only because it's an economic cost but because there is a huge social cost to our communities and our societies. So that's really why I'm doing this. It's going to take a long time – I'm talking about a generational change - but hopefully this is the first small step: to start a conversation around the importance of Early Childhood development."

- Hello Magazine