#She's his best friend from the domes and he's so happy to finally be near her again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

exosmutfactory · 3 years ago

Text

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓ P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party.

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month."

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

Earth shaker 😝💞��

Ready as I'll ever be!

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

…

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away?

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you."

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking?

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?"

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20.

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow...

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?"

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester."

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes.

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes.

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight.

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all...

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me.

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please?

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center.

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

#baekhyun smut #bbh-net #supermwritersnet #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #Six Phases #let's go heartbreak and smutty town #with a surprise within ;)

84 notes · View notes

reidecorating · 4 years ago

Text

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.�� I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift.

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :)

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding.

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do.

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it.

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request.

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door.

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well.

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake.

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :)

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-”

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far.

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way.

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist.

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?”

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him.

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,”

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders.

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,”

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing, trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud.

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come.

225 notes · View notes

mardereads19 · 4 years ago

Text

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 3:

Azriel followed the carriage silently, winnowing from tree to tree, his shadows informing him Elain was in position and ready. He didn’t feel comfortable in letting her do this, but he also trusted her to do her part well. She was more than capable, more than prepared. He had trained her, after all.

Well, he hadn’t been the only one. Elain had revealed to him that she had been training in secret for a while with Nuala and Cerridwen. They’d done a good job. He made a mental note to give them a bonus come Calanmai.

Also to reprimand them for keeping secrets while being his spies.

The sun had already set and there was no moon tonight, giving Azriel the perfect cover from the males Elain had to distract and dupe into giving away what they knew.

“If these males are being controlled by Koschei, will it even make sense to kidnap them?” Feyre had asked on their meeting in Rhys’s study this afternoon. Azriel had been quietly observing and listening to the plans his High Lord had been piecing together. “At least, when Briallyn had control over Eris’s males—”

“And me,” Cassian had supplied from where he stood next to his mate, his arms crossed over his chest and face contemplative. Az had noted the way Nesta’s jaw clenched and her eyes shined silver for a second. The need to kill. The drive to eradicate the threat against her mate. Az had looked away.

Feyre had nodded. She’d looked tired, an expression that’d been mirrored in Rhys. The baby kept us awake all night. He wouldn’t stop crying, Rhys had told him earlier, but there had been light in his eyes, a quiet happiness even as he’d yawned.

Az had not seen his brother yawn in a while.

“And Cassian,” Feyre had added, a spark of anger in her eyes, “they would not talk.”

Az had agreed, “When we brought them to the Hewn City, they hadn’t given anything away.”

There’d been a silence for a moment. They had all, save for Nesta, witnessed Azriel’s administrations to the males of Autumn. No torture had gotten them to open their mouths, to reveal who had sent them after the mask. Feyre had pointed out how wrong it was to do that to them when they were not themselves.

Nesta had sat up straighter in her chair in the study before saying, “But what if they are being partially controlled?”

Rhys had raised his eyebrows.

Nesta had stood, Cassian reaching for her hand. Nesta let their fingers intertwine. It had brought a small pang of envy into Az’s heart. He’d pushed it away. “Bellius,” she said with disgust, “that male from the Blood Rite. He constantly mocked us, tried to rile us up. Sometimes I wonder if he gave too much away.”

Rhys had frowned. “Perhaps he wasn’t being controlled. He was only in on the plan.”

“He was being controlled,” Nesta insisted. Her gaze had been unfocused, as if lost in the memories. Cassian’s wings shifted. “He had that glassy look in his eyes that were on the Autumn Court males. I noticed it from the first time I met him. I thought he had been drunk at first.” She had blinked and, as if remembering where she was, had turned to Cass. He had pulled her closer to him, his eyes reassuring her.

Amren’s lips had twisted upwards in what might have been a smile before she turned to Rhys. “So there is a possibility that Koschei only partially controls these Fae, especially if they are far away from where he is located now. His grasp on them through his power may be less strong, perhaps allowing them the freedom to speak, like that male from the Blood Rite. What would you plan now?”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Feyre had contributed. “The Crown may not work the same way Koschei’s powers could. He could still have full influence over them.”

“Koschei is a death god,” Rhys had said, “I don’t think his power excels in controlling others more than it does in killing them. The crown’s whole purpose is to control living beings and, if it has that limit, then I’m willing to bet Koschei does, too.”

“I wouldn’t place a bet on a thought, Rhys.” It had been clear Feyre was worried. Her fingers had kept tapping on the table. Az wondered if it came as a result of being a mother, that worrying. That caring for the well-being of others. “If we brought them here, could you guarantee they’ll break?”

“I don’t think Azriel could get them to sing for us.” Rhys inhaled. His eyes roamed the map of the continent, focusing on the coast of the human territory. “If Bellius spoke to rile Nesta and her friends up, then only their own arrogant boasting will get them to talk. They have to feel like they are giving the information out of their own free will. That they’d be gaining something by it, even if it’s admiration or applause.”

Azriel had tilted his head, analyzing what Rhys was implying. “There is no one in this room that can convince those men to speak.” Feyre and Rhys were recognizable to all the Fae. Cassian and Az were Illyrian, which would raise suspicions. There was no reason for an Illyrian be on the mortal lands of the continent. And Amren and Nesta had as much chance of charming those Fae as Bryaxis had of calming people.

Mor would have been their best choice, but she was on the Fae side of the continent, too far away to reach in time for tonight.

Rhys had met Az’s gaze. There was a shine on them that often told Azriel that Rhys had an idea. Something in his gut had told him he wouldn’t like it. “No. No one in this room can do it. But I know who.”

“Stop your games and just spill it, boy. I don’t have time for this.” Amren had said, narrowing her eyes at Rhys.

Cassian had rolled his eyes, “What could possibly be more vital than this right now?”

“I have a date with Varian to taste different types of meat and I’m starving. If I stay here any longer, I might eat yours.”

Cassian had barked a laugh. “I wanna see you try, tiny ancient one.”

Azriel had kept his focus on Rhys. Waiting. Fear making his heart beat faster. He knew what was coming.

Finally, Rhys had asked, “How has Elain’s training gone?”

And now, Azriel was following the carriage to where she would be waiting for the Fae. Where she would pretend to be a victim of a robbery. A female riding a wagon on her own in the lonely road when a thief took advantage of the solitude to steal the resources she was on her way to sell in the market and make a coin. Az was to stay in the shadows. He was only allowed to be here in the case the Fae males wanted to take another type of advantage out of her.

Azriel fisted his hands. He had half a mind to destroy the males now and claim a freak accident had killed them rather than find out what they’d intend with her.

He stopped a second, telling his breathing to calm, waiting for his rage to subside. He couldn’t make decisions when his mind was violent, he needed a clear head.

He kept moving only because the carriage did, but he still wanted to spill blood.

A noise caught his attention. There, just beyond the curve of the road, was Elain kneeling on the floor crying as she held a few pieces of the wagon’s wood. Azriel fought the impulse to winnow to her, to console her, to hold her. Tell her everything was alright. That he was with her and no one would hurt her.

She’s pretending. Her cries aren’t real. She knows I’m here.

But it was difficult. His wings twitched, his shadows scattered towards her, but still hid from view. They were ready to strike at his command. Anyone who got near her.

Stand down, he said to them.

The carriage had gotten close enough to to see Elain on the road, see the mess of the wagon, and notice the horse that led it missing.

“Ho!” The rider called to his own horses while pulling on the reins. They stopped next to the wagon’s destruction. Pieces of wood lay around it and Elain. Rhys had taken care of that.

“Cover your face,” he had told Elain before sending a wave of his power to the empty wagon. Elain had covered her face, but noticed it hadn’t been necessary. Azriel had secured a dome of his own power around her. Wood struck a blue wall and jumped off harmlessly. Rhys had narrowed his eyes at him, “Disperse the wood, Azriel. Otherwise it will be weird indeed that the wood landed all around except for that clear demarcation of a dome.”

Azriel looked down. Right, there was a clear difference between where his power had encircled Elain and where it hadn’t.

She had sucked on her lower lip to hide her smile. Azriel felt hot in the face, but he didn’t care that he had made a foolish mistake to protect her. She met his gaze and he saw a promise there that he tucked away before his scent gave away the direction his mind had gone off to.

Elain turned to Rhys, her pale pink dress looking white in the dusk light. Rhys had estimated the Fae would take this road and would be here in half an hour. It was an isolated enough road, one Fae loved to use to stay hidden inside the mortal lands. It was surrounded by forest on both sides, the smell of pine was strong here, but it was a scent Azriel liked. The wagon was brought here by both males in their winnowing.

“Was it really necessary to destroy the wagon like that? Wouldn’t it have sufficed to simply break a wheel?” Elain had asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Rhys studied the mess in the road, his brow furrowed in thought. “A thief would have no need to go to all that trouble.”

“Perhaps not,” he had answered throwing her a wink, “but it just contributes to your woeful story. Make sure to cry extra loud.”

Elain had shaken with laughter and Azriel had taken a step closer to her impulsively. He wanted to lay a hand on her waist, to feel her laugh reverberate through him.

Now, he watched her shake in sobs instead. One of the males from inside the carriage stepped down and walked closer to her. He was dressed in cheap armor, dirty from use, and his brown hair was tied at his nape. The male surveyed the wagon, the destruction and lack of a horse, and finally glanced at Elain. His eyes roamed her body, but Azriel couldn’t tell if the glassy look in his eyes were from the control the male was under or for a different drive.

Azriel felt that hunger for violence stir inside him and fought with everything he could to keep still.

Stand down, Azriel repeated to the shadows when he noticed how they were risking exposure by getting closer to Elain. Hesitantly, they skittered back into the dark.

“What happened here, dear?” The male asked, though his voice didn’t drip kindness.

Elain put on a good show, sobbing and wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her simple dress. She had to look the part of a Fae in hiding, so the dress was akin to the human clothes this area donned, her hair was arranged over her ears, and the glow of her High Fae beauty had been glamoured to an acceptable degree.

“Good, Sir.” She stood and curtsied. “I was riding on the way to the market—” a sob “—when a thief came by.” Tears flowed down Elain’s cheeks so effortlessly Azriel wondered if she was hurt. Did she twist her ankle again while he was away? Perhaps with one of the wood planks he himself had dispersed.

Not real tears, one of his shadows assured him.

He didn’t relax.

“When were you attacked?”

“This afternoon.” She sniffed. “I’ve been here hours, seeing as how hidden this road is. I have no way of getting home.” Elain covered her face in her hands. “I live too far away, and I have an injury in my right leg that makes walking for long periods unbearable.” She wiped away her tears. “I stayed here hoping someone might come around and help me get to a place where I could sleep the night and hopefully rent a horse during the week.”

“Did the thief not take your coin?” The male sounded skeptical.

She nodded, “They did, of course, but I could work for a few days and make the money. I just need a ride.” Elain fidgeted with her dress, successfully looking devastated and scared.

The male gazed back at the carriage and the others, considering his options. Azriel held his breath as the male regarded Elain once more. His face revealed he felt superior, a male who knew he had control of the situation. Exactly what they needed him to think. He also looked like he wanted to impress this lovely female he happened to rescue.

He inclined his head to the side, a smile spreading over his face. “Alright, sweet face. We can take you.”

After a few teary grateful expressions from Elain, the male opened the door of the carriage for her with all the satisfaction of a savior. She climbed the first step, pretending a limp, and as she did so, she glanced over her shoulder.

To the male, she was looking back to the destroyed wagon and up to the trees in sadness. But her gaze met Azriel’s. She had know exactly where he was. He hoped she could read in his eyes what he wanted to tell her.

You’re not alone. I’m right behind you. You’re doing great, lovely fawn. You’re doing great.

Her head dipped in the smallest of nods and then she was inside and the male was closing the door behind him.

Azriel clenched his jaw.

Now the real work begun.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #elain #azriel #spy elain #spy elriel #elain archeron #elriel endgame #elriel oneshot #elriel fanfic #elriel fic #my writing

78 notes · View notes

mythicamagic · 4 years ago

Note

“you make me feel alive. for the first time ever, i feel like i can breathe”, I think this prompt is very SesshKag...🤭🙈💖 I hope you write something with this!🥰🥰💕💫

“you make me feel alive. for the first time ever, i feel like i can breathe”

This one is inspired by overplaying Hozier songs.

---

Spring

He’s a taciturn creature by nature; always had been. Since silver inuyoukai were so rare, many assumed him to be a staple of his kind- a representative for how all demons of his species and calibre acted.

Kagome knew that wasn’t the case, having gotten to know him. Having met the demons at his stronghold and witnessing their behaviour. Rather, Sesshoumaru was an exception to the rule, not the norm.

Sesshoumaru conducted himself rigidly in terms of confronting emotions. For everything else; killing, protecting, hunting he did so sharply, carefully. Perfectly. He was young and arrogant despite his age, unblemished white snow on red hydrangeas; unshakable in his beliefs despite the human children who adored him.

After coming to appreciate his straightforwardness and- most confusingly of all- befriending the unsociable demon, she’d sought to crumble that insurmountable wall. She wanted the glaciers to melt. To swim in those still waters that ran deep. Keeping himself at arm's length from everyone couldn’t be healthy, she’d wagered. He was surely missing out on the rich flavours of life, deaf to laughter and cold to gentle touch.

So she invites him to dance at a villager’s wedding.

Golden eyes narrow, flitting about the strangers making merry at the celebration. All so loud. All so human and abrasive in their display of feelings.

With a sneer, he dismisses her.

Summer

He is protective, even if he calls it by other, more respectable sounding names. Kagome feels his gaze on her back, warming it hotter than the sun beating down upon her form. Sesshoumaru is a silent sentinel while children play, the reserved, standoffish presence at gatherings. Kagome comes to realise it’s because he’s always watching, observing. Listening for danger. It made people uncomfortable.

She labels it as something affectionate, which he does not appreciate. When her bare skin pricks with the awareness of a honeyed gold gaze, her form barely concealed by a swimsuit due to the hot weather- Kagome feels a thrum sing down to her belly. It’s suddenly too humid, and that ice briefly melts, leaving something raw, passionate, fiery- until it's gone. The burning embers are snuffed out, mastered once more. He will not allow weakness in.

She invites him to dance at Inuyasha’s wedding.

The Daiyoukai looked at all the happy faces of her friends, finally landing on her. She can’t quite hide all the aches and pains of her failed first love; lingering there in her watery eyes, despite the brave face she’s painted on.

Sesshoumaru declines to join her.

Autumn

Blackberry juices stain her lower lip and fingers purple like bruises. Brown leaves crunch beneath her boots as Kagome helps villagers prepare for harvest.

Sesshoumaru slinks on the outskirts of her vision, ever unchanging as her hands become rough with peasants work. Modern life seems so far away now. Cool air renders his immortal breath visible, and on more than one occasion Kagome discovers his true form huddled inside a cave, sleeping the days away. Battles have all but stopped- warring people and demons alike too preoccupied with preparing for Winter's bite to engage in needless fighting.

Without the bloodshed, the Killing Perfection is at his most vulnerable. Exposed to ridicule. Unnecessary. Purposeless. There is no need for him in peacetime.

Kagome makes a place for him. She requests a hut be built within Inuyasha's forest near the Bone Eater’s Well and takes it upon herself to live outside the comforts of the village, if only to better bridge the divide between himself and others.

Sesshoumaru frequently haunts her doorway the second it's built. He stretches out by the fire to warm his chilled body like the domesticated dog he wasn't.

The children are all grown now. Kagome pines for some of her own.

She invites him to dance at Rin and Kohaku's wedding.

With a conflicted, confused look, Sesshoumaru quietly tells her 'perhaps another time.’

Winter

Getting snowed in by herself causes Kagome's heart to shake and horror to freeze the blood in her veins. She tries her best to cope with the conditions alone, preserving food and keeping wrapped up. But surviving alone isn't what she's built for.

Luckily, it's what Sesshoumaru excels at.

He finds purpose again through killing, though not in a way that he expects. Dead animals are dragged to her door, skinned. When their furs aren't enough, Sesshoumaru sighs and invites her closer.

They make love during a snowstorm, their auras rising. Inside his dome of youki, Kagome hears all the things he could not speak of out loud- like he knew foreign words but could not piece together the language.

‘You make me feel alive,’ he panted, teeth bloodied from burying into her shoulder in a hard bite. ‘For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.’

He’s gone by the morning, and she feels all the colder for it.

However, she finds he returns like the ebb and flow of the tide. With each glide of the surf landing upon the rocks, the wild demon lingers just a little longer in her bed, until her stomach is round with their child.

She invites him to dance at their wedding.

Sesshoumaru meets her gaze, as unblemished as the day she’d befriended him so many years ago. It’s she who has changed- the proof of it kicking inside her. However, when he smiles with his gilded, golden eyes- she knows the insidious effects of change are there, hidden in plain sight like the coming touch of Spring melting Winter anew.

The demon accepts her hand with a tight grip.

#sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome

73 notes · View notes

ednacrabapple · 3 years ago

Note

Tell me what you think/hc Enda and Seymour 's relationship history and future is starting with their friendship

I know you wanna

Okay okay okay so - I’m convinced that they were attracted to each other basically from the moment they met, but neither one of them ever said anything or acted on it

They met when Seymour was interviewing Edna for the open 4th grade teacher position, he hired her almost immediately because she was by far the best person for the job, and they just instantly became really good friends. He loved her sarcastic sense of humor and how she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and how she would always stand up for him to Chalmers, and she loved how despite everything he had been through, he still had this sense of innocence and wonder that she found really charming

They had a really good friendship and they would spend a lot of time together - and there was so much sexual tension between them that literally the entire faculty of the school could see - but they never did anything about it, partially because Edna was married and partially because Seymour is Edna’s boss

When Edna found out her bitch ass husband Ken was cheating on her and they were going through their divorce (which was super, super messy) she ended up leaning on Seymour really heavily for support - and he was there for her through it all. At one point, Edna wanted to sleep with him, but Seymour managed to talk her out of it because he knew she wasn’t really thinking clearly. She was really angry at first, but later on, she was glad that he didn’t take advantage of her when he so easily could have

Their friendship continued pretty much as normal until they were hiding out in Martin’s playhouse together to avoid Agnes when they finally gave in and kissed. They quickly ended up dating in secret, and they slept together on the first date - and then the next day at school Miss Hoover took one look at them and was like “oh my god you didn’t!” And they basically had to bribe her to stay quiet lol

At this point I don’t really imagine anything that different from what happens in the series - their relationship is kinda ruined by Agnes, Seymour’s fear of commitment delays their engagement and their wedding, Edna ends up leaving him at the alter, and then they have an on again off again relationship that drags on for a really long time

And then after that I chose to ignore canon entirely - and I think the traumatic events of the movie - with everyone being trapped in the dome and thinking they’re all gonna die - end up bringing Edna and Seymour back together. It makes Seymour realize how much he loves Edna and how afraid he is of losing her and is finally able to put her first and stand up to Agnes. And it makes Edna a little more willing to compromise over certain things

Then they finally get married for real - and they’re just so in love with each other that it makes all the students at the school gag any time they’re near each other. Seymour finally moves out of his mother’s house and he and Edna get a small house of their own. They have three cats and contemplate getting a dog - but I’m not sure they ever do

… and then I’m gonna leave it here because I don’t want to make myself sad - so I’m just ending with them being happy and together and so in love

#edna krabappel #seymour skinner #I just want the two of them to be happy okay #they are in love #and they deserve each other #the simpsons #my hcs

18 notes · View notes

j-amespotter · 3 years ago

Text

★ epiphany – r. l.

"with you, i serve. with you, i fall down."

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Nymphadora Tonks (if you squint)

x. x.

Summary: Throughout his life, Remus fought many battles. Only once was he ever on the brink of victory.

Genre/Warnings: angst, war, death, torture, mentions of lycanthropy

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: i'm officially on summer break, so expect more writing from me!! this one actually took a lot of time and effort so please share your feedback. not a reader insert, just some canon character insight. i think about remus's last moments a lot :( let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

masterlist

1978 - With you, I serve.

The moon was bright but not quite full. It shone on two boys, both fresh out of school and on the precipice of becoming men. As much as they tried to deny it, there was an aura of naiveté surrounding them, one that would soon deteriorate beyond their imaginations.

“Come here,” said Remus Lupin, a tall, tired boy, tugging his companion’s sleeve. “Behind the bushes.”

“It’s child’s play, this job. What’s Dumbledore playing at?”

Remus was paired up with James Potter, who was growing more and more impatient by the second. “Prongs, we are trainees. We’re lucky to have an assignment at all.”

The two friends were seated on a small hill overlooking a large, dreary house. It belonged to the Travers family, a family notoriously pureblood, notoriously Slytherin. A family most likely in league with the greatest threat to the Wizarding World in several decades—Lord Voldemort.

The severity of the situation remained unspoken between them. If caught, James and Remus would be killed within seconds. Remus silently wished he shared James’s conviction regarding the ultimate invincibility of the right cause. But there was something inside of him that would remain unconvinced for a long time.

“There’s no way Travers isn’t a Death Eater,” said James. “I say we attack. They know we’re careful. They’ll never see it coming.”

“Perhaps,” said Remus. “Although, I doubt they are unprepared. Stealth is the only path to success.”

James snorted. “Okay, Professor Moony.” Years later, the same voice on a nearly-identical face would be addressing him in the same manner, with an amount of long-faced sincerity that would destroy him. But Remus did not know that yet.

After a while, Remus broke the comfortable silence between them simply because of a lingering curiosity manifesting within him. “Do you really think we can win this?”

James turned toward him. When he spoke, Remus thought he sounded a little scandalized. “Of course I do. And even if we don’t, there isn’t a single part of me that won’t die trying.”

Remus hummed, though he could feel the hesitation brewing inside of him, the same hesitation he found himself constantly suppressing around his friends. It was not as though he didn’t share the same sentiment; that wasn’t the case at all. It felt blasphemous to let his thoughts wander at times, but he couldn’t help himself. The truth was loud and clear. Remus was fighting this war for those who wouldn't do the same for him.

Something about the setting and the shape of the moon kept him lost in his muddled thoughts. “Why did you become an Animagus?”

James looked slightly taken aback, running a hand through his hair. “You know why.”

“Indulge me.”

“Because, Remus, we care about you. We wanted to help you,” said James. “We still want to help you.”

“You have done more than enough, James.” And it was true. James Potters didn’t exist in the real world, and that was a fact that was becoming blazingly clear the longer Remus spent in it.

There was nothing more to be said after that. James only sighed, staring out with a strangely thoughtful expression. “You know something?”

“What?”

“Think I’m going to ask Lily to marry me.”

Remus swallowed. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” said James. “I haven’t told anyone.”

Remus found that hard to believe. “Not even Sirius?”

“No, not even Sirius. Just thought of it, actually. Besides, something tells me Sirius would laugh in my face.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” said Remus, though it was always hard to tell with Sirius. The idea of James getting married sounded so far-fetched, and yet, made more sense to him than anything ever had in his entire life.

“So, what do you think?”

What did he think? Honestly, he felt a twinge of envy that James had someone to propose to, that he didn’t have to think twice about it, that in all likelihood, when this war ended, James would live a long, happy, healthy life with his wife and enough children to form his own Quidditch team. “I think that you definitely should.”

James’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that made Remus feel warm inside. One that told Remus that it wasn’t actually a whim, that James had been thinking about it for weeks, and that when it came to Lily, he always seemed to turn to Remus. It was a bittersweet sentiment, but one that he had come to appreciate.

“Guess I’ll need to figure out who my best man will be,” mused James.

Remus rolled his eyes. “She hasn’t even said yes yet, Prongs.”

James harrumphed. “Of course she’ll say yes to becoming Mrs. Arrogant Toerag.” He puffed out his chest dramatically, only to lose his balance and fall forward into the bushes. “Wow, we really suck at this whole ‘stealth’ thing, don’t we?”

“Shut it, will you?” whispered Remus, though if he had known how few moments he had left to share with James, he wouldn’t have reprimanded him at all.

Suddenly, a scream coming from the direction of the house interrupted them.

“What was that?” asked James. Both boys had their wands at the ready.

“They’re torturing someone,” said Remus, suppressing a shudder. He winced at the sound of another piercing scream, one that shredded his insides with every resounding decibel.

James began to rise. “We have to go in and help them.”

Instantly, Remus grabbed his arm and pulled him down. “James, we can’t. We will blow our cover, we’re likely completely outnumbered, and we were told to call reinforcements if anything got serious. We are trainees, remember?” When James begrudgingly slunk down next to him, Remus nudged him again. “Send a Patronus to the Prewetts.”

As James retreated several yards into the woods to conjure his great silvery stag, Remus turned his attention back to the house in front of them. After hearing another scream, he was beginning to lose his nerve. We can win this, Remus chanted to himself like a sacred mantra. We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

Three years later, wizards all over Britain would celebrate their victory over the Dark Lord. But with three dead friends and one a murderous traitor, Remus Lupin would have nothing to celebrate. And he wouldn’t for a very long time, not until he stared into a pair of startlingly green eyes in a train compartment several years later.

1998 - With you, I fall down.

His heart raced as he watched the silver dome shatter around the castle. A swarm of dark, hooded figures made their way towards them. With one hand over the photograph in his pocket, Remus thought of Teddy—his vibrant, turquoise hair, his soft coos, and the sparkly eyes that looked just like his own.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

It is different now, he thought to himself, I have Harry. A son. A wife. For the first time in his life, Remus Lupin had a proper family.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

He was able to see his reflection on a window. Under all the worry pooling his features, Remus saw the ghost of a smile that looked so achingly familiar— the weary but indestructible smile of a new father, the one he last saw during his final moments with James many, many years ago.

He thought of Dora, who, despite his desperate pleas, followed him to Hogwarts to fight what was beginning to feel like the end. After he righteously begged her to return to safety, she scoffed teasingly. “Honestly, Remus. You should know better.”

She was right, and there was nothing more to say. She kissed him hard before they went their separate ways for the last time. Remus weaved through crowds of warriors, gaze wandering from time to time for a glimpse of either his wife or his young protege. Any sign that Dora and Harry were alright would ease his ever-growing nerves.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

He thought of a late-night in his dormitory. It was the end of his seventh year. The four Marauders were sitting on each of their four-poster beds, picturing this moment, having no idea what was to come, just the confidence that it would and that they would win.

“I think it’ll be at the Ministry,” said Sirius.

“Or Diagon Alley,” said Remus thoughtfully.

“With Dumbledore leading the charge,” added James, a note of excitement in his voice. “I’d give anything to see the end of him.”

“Me too,” grumbled Sirius, struggling to hide the bitterness lacing every word. It had only struck Remus then that Sirius would be fighting his own flesh and blood on the other side. He knew better than to mention it.

“We could die,” said Peter quietly.

“We could,” affirmed James. “But I have a good feeling about it. It’ll be our moment, lads.”

Remus had only heard of Wormtail's death from Bill, who heard it from Harry. Peter, so afraid of death, so willing to do anything to avoid it, killed by his own hand. The last of his friends to go. In his wildest dreams, Remus would have never thought that he would be the last Marauder standing. Alone.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. He had Dora, Teddy, and Harry. Harry, brilliant Harry, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who, unbeknownst to him, changed Remus’s life. The boy who would carry out his father's dream. The boy who would win this for them all.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

Remus heaved a tired sigh. His legs felt as though they were about to give out. Despite his unique set of skills, Remus spent more time sickly than able. Especially now, nearing the age of forty. No longer did he have the agility or stamina of his youth.

He was in the center of the fighting in the courtyard. Suddenly, Remus felt a sinking, silencing feeling inside of him. Swallowing it away, he turned around, grip on his wand accidentally loosening for the quickest second.

The man in front of him was smirking, a forthcoming light blinding any identifying features. Remus's wand slipped from his fingers.

The last thing he saw was green, consuming his vision like a swarm of Dementors closing in on him. The spell hit him squarely in the chest.

He always wondered what death would feel like, often equating it with the debilitating pain of his monthly transformations. But it wasn't like that at all. Death was like falling. An eternal, endless fall into nothingness.

Moments away from victory, Remus Lupin fell down.

Mischief Managed.

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @sheismadness @she-seeks-magic @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @queenofblacks @duckie-dunham

31 notes · View notes

theemptyskies · 3 years ago

Text

Ok I'm posting this first chapter a little late haha. It was for @azulaweek for Day 2 Rare Pairs and Day 4 AU.

It's going to be a Buffy the Vampire Slayer and AtLA crossover.

Hope y'all enjoy! Shout out to @juniperhillpatient for motivating me to give this a shot. You're awesome 🙂

Any feedback is appreciated ❤

Displacement - A New Beginning

Content Warning: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore

Summary

The rise of Vaatu leads to unprecedented darkness falling upon the world. Unexpected events lead to Azula learning to live in an unknown world, preparing for an uncertain future.

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

A spell to close the Hellmouth in "The Zeppo" has unexpected consequences. With no way of sending the newcomer home, Buffy, Faith and the Scoobies do their best to help the young girl adapt to her new home.

While facing the possible end of the world, Azula finds herself transported through the newly created hellmouth, ending up in Sunnydale. Watch as she grows and adapts in this new world, learning to overcome the pain of losing loved ones, finding a family, and starting to see this as a new opportunity at life.

Anyone who thought the Fire Nation was evil was a fool. At least they should feel they are, given the darkness that has enveloped the world in the four years since the war has ended. It all began last year when Avatar Roku warned Avatar Aang that there was a risk of a dark spirit breaking free. He called it Vatu. It was the spirit of chaos and darkness, the antithesis to the Avatar spirit.

The spirit had a sort of cult worshipping it. Avatar Aang tried to stop them himself, not wanting to involve their friends and risk our safety. That was his first mistake. It left Katara and myself woefully unprepared for the cult's ambush. We fought them off as best as we could, but there were far too many. In the end, our cottage was left in ruins, dead waterless foliage caked in our enemy's blood, I was nearly beaten unconscious, and Katara was taken.

They times the kidnapping perfectly, just a day before their planned ritual to free Vaatu from his imprisonment. Avatar Aang, the foolish child that he is, refused to leave Katara's rescue to Sokka, Toph, and myself. His inability to let go of the infatuation he holds for Katara gave the cult enough time to break Vaatu's bindings. It was then the darkest days came.

Upon its release, Vaatu, with the help of its cult, performed a ritual. Black tendrils erupted from its body, tearing across the skies and burrowing into the earth, its physical dorm dissolving in the process. Agni's light was blocked by shadows stripping bending from Firebenders across the glow. From the five largest points, great beasts emerged. Enormous, otherworldly, monstrosities that the worst of nightmares couldn't compare to. Following their emergence, a diverse horde of smaller, equally horrid, creatures poured from the openings.

There was no time to prepare. Within hours the largest cities were reduced to unrecognizable ruins. Formerly bustling streets were transformed into rivers of red. Body parts left strewn across the rubble. Images of beast feasting on children still haunt my mind. Even our own friends weren't able to escape the carnage. We managed to find Ty Lee the last of the living Kyoshi Warriors, just as she was impaled on the claws of a bald, gaunt humanoid-looking monster. It managed to rip an arm from her body by the time we closed the distance enough for Katara to decapitate it with a disk of ice. Her last words will forever be seared in my mind.

"I'm happy you're ok 'Zula."

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

Over the two weeks, since The Emergence began, Aang was almost non-stop searching for and rescuing survivors. We established a temporary refugee camp at the unoccupied Southern Air Temple. Like an endlessly erupting volcano, the creature continued rising from the pits Vatu created. Isolated locations like the Air Temples and Water Tribes were the only places still safe, for now at least.

Knowing that allowing events to continue unimpeded, Aang turned to the spirits for guidance. The Air Temple's sacred grounds made the transition from the mortal world to the spiritual plane much easier. Sitting in the temple powerless as Katara held me, waiting for Aang to return from the spirit world, listening to the distant roars of monsters below the clouds, I don't think I ever felt so terrified.

Almost like she could sense my fear, Katara held me tighter, softly kissed the top of my head while gently running her fingers through my now unkempt hair. It's strange how the moment I felt the most fear was followed by one where I felt incredibly safe. As her gentle caresses lulled me to sleep, I heard a whisper from my lover. A hope a clung to until the very end.

"Everything will be ok Zula. We'll make it through this."

Two days later, Aang returned from the spirit world. With the help of Avatar Roku, he had managed to make contact with Rava, the spirit of light and the source of the Avatar's power. With the information she gave us, we were able to come up with a plan. Vaatu's ritual tore open portals that were connected to another dimension. They were directly connected to the five largest beasts that first erupted from them. While the portals themselves couldn't be closed, the pits that housed them would be sealed, finally stopping the endless stream of monsters from pouring into our world. All they had to do was kill the five great beasts.

Admittedly, it wasn't much of a plan. As Sokka had put it "So all we have to do is take out monsters the size of small palaces? Great! You know, for once, why couldn't the world-saving plan be easy." I rolled my eyes at his remark at the time but didn't make a retort. The small smiles that our friends held were worth dealing with his rather poor sense of humor. Besides, he was family after all, and if he said something too stupid I'm sure Katara would've happily frozen him to the ceiling.

Rava's power, being the opposite of Vaatu's, would lure the massive beasts to Aang, acting as a sort of beacon. The general plan was that Aang would activate the Avatar State, he would kill the beasts near the pits, we would keep the army of smaller monsters away from Aang while he fights the bigger ones, don't die. Said like that, the plan sounded risky but simple. Unfortunately, it was anything but simple.

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

There were a few Earthbenders among the rescued survivors that volunteered to help. We knew we couldn't hold back a never-ending army. After talking with Sokka, rapidly formulating and dismissing plans, the best we came up with was having the Earthbenders create a dome over the pit. This would grab the attention of the surrounding creatures. While they focused on not letting the army break through the barrier, the rest of us would protect the Earthbenders until the beast was slain.

Naturally, it wasn't that simple. Rava failed to mention that as each beast died, only some of Vaatu's energy returned to the pit, sealing it. The rest dispersed to the remaining beasts, making them stronger. The first there battles went relatively smoothly, the growing strength of the beasts was more and more apparent with each successive fight. We experienced a handful of losses but nothing unexpected. Merely some inexperienced volunteers. It was the fourth battle that hit our group the hardest.

The battle started just like every other, sealing the pit and fighting the surrounding beasts. However, due to the strength of this beast, this fight lasted far longer than the last. With our growing exhaustion, it was only a matter of time before someone made a mistake. As Sokka slew one of them, another managed to catch him off guard from behind. Faster than anyone could react, the hairless humanoid snatched his wolf-tail, yanking him back, and sunk its fangs into the side of his neck. Within seconds his skin lost all color and he was left hanging limp in the thing's arms, his sword slipping from his hands and his vacant eyes forever left wide in horror.

That fight ended soon after, with the Avatar finally defeating the creature. I had to nearly rip Katara away from her fallen brother, the last of her biological family. I held her as she cried during the entire flight back to the Southern Air Temple. Upon our arrival, Aang approached us after climbing off of Appa.

"I'm sorry for what happened to Sokka, Katara." He began. At the sound of his voice, I felt Katara stiffen in my arms.

"You're sorry..." It was a whisper I barely heard as she pulled away, her face displaying a hatred I didn't know she was capable of. He began to speak again but she cut him off.

"How dare you come to me and say that!" She growled at him. "Like I'm sorry will make it all better! You could've stopped all of this! You could have prevented Vaatu from breaking free and none of this would've happened! Now SOKKA IS DEAD!" A loud slap echoed across the now silent temple as she struck Aang across the face.

Her voice lowered to a whisper as she continued, tears freely falling from her eyes. "S-s-sokka is d-dead and it's all your fault... Just stay away from me..." Finishing her quiet statement, Katara ran inside the temple, away from the sympathetic stares of the gathered survivors.

Aang watched her go, holding his own tears back before turning to me. He unfastened the strap holding Sokka's blade across his back. With both hands, he held it out to me. "Will you please give this to her. He would want her to have it."

I accepted the blade and he turned, beginning to walk away. "She didn't mean that you know. Katara's hurt and angry."

I don't know why I felt the need to offer him that small comfort. Maybe it was because Aang had taken the time, despite his exhaustion, to do this for her fiance. Regardless of the reason, he paused, shaking his head.

"Doesn't matter Azula. Even if she apologizes, we both know she's right." With that statement, he walked away. Turning, I walked in the direction Katara had run. I knew I wasn't the best at providing comfort, but that's all I could do for her now. I don't remember ever seeing her so broken, and I don't think there's anything I could've said to help.

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

Katara squeezing my hand pulled me from my memories. "Are you ok?"

I turned to look at her, seeing the concern reflected in her eyes. I looked over the edge of the Bison's saddle, noting that the sea was replaced by land below us, before responding "Ya, I'm fine. Was just thinking about everything that happened. What brought us here."

Katara stilled, appearing to look at something that wasn't there. She was probably lost within the same memories I was moments ago. I squeezed her hand softly, wondering for a moment how her hands remained so soft after the countless battles they've been through. She jerked slightly, her eyes regaining focus before giving me a small smile. It was a rare sight in recent months but still as beautiful as the day she proposed.

"Despite everything that's happened, I'm glad you've been here with me Zula." Katara said softly before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss that left my heart stuttering. It's amazing that, after all this time, she still has the same effect on me. It faintly reminds me of how nervous I was when I admitted out loud to Ty Lee and Zuko that I wanted to marry her. Though the nervousness I felt that day grew to be far greater when she walked around the corner in the palace hallway, clearly having heard what I said.

I couldn't stop the small smile from forming on my face as the memory washed over me. Leaning my forehead against hers, I recalled her walking up to me, her wide-eyed, surprised, expression shifting to one of pure happiness.

"Ya know, I've been nervous all week about giving this to you, but suddenly I feel a lot more confident." She had said jokingly, a smirk plastered on her face as she pulled a small rectangle box from her robe. She opened the box, standing barely a foot away, revealing a blue necklace, simple in design. The pendant had the symbol of the Fire Nation in the center. Only, instead of black over a red background, it was ivory over a pale blue. It was simple but perfect.

"In the Watertribes, we use necklaces to propose. I wasn't so sure before, but something tells me I can guess your answer. Will you marry me?" Her eyes twinkled in amusement as I nodded dumbly, too shocked over what had just happened. It certainly wasn't my most elegant moment. It had taken me a few moments to process what had happened before I launched myself at her, pulling her into a searing kiss which she smiled into. Pulling away from me, with eyes full of joy and a smile lighting up her face, Katara asked "Can I put it on you?"

I nodded again, not trusting my voice. Katara pulled the necklace from its case and walked around me as it looked over at Zuko and Ty Lee both wearing equally large smiles. As soon as it was fastened, Zuko pulled us both into a large hug, quickly followed by Ty Lee, who couldn't contain her excitement. "Oh my gosh Azula! Congratulations! You're getting married! There is so much planning we have to do! The decorations, oh you know there has to be music..."

I looked into Katara's eyes, not pulling away from her, returning the smile. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." I said softly so only she could hear, before closing the distance for another kiss.

We were pulled from our moment by Appa beginning his descent, and Aang jumping off, unfurling his glider and flying away, creating distance for his battle. Looking back towards the rapidly approaching ground of the western Earth Kingdom, I could see the sea of black dots below us start to become more defined, revealing the mass of creatures we'll soon be fighting. Appa landed with a massive gust of wind sending monsters flying, giving us a few moments to disembark and fall into formation.

As soon as Toph landed, she quickly entombed the pit in a think earthen dome, soon backed by two other Earthbenders, preventing the swarm of monsters from continuing to grow. Katara, myself and the other volunteer survivors formed a protective perimeter around them. I quickly unsheathed Sokka's black blade instead of using my dual tanto. Katara handed me the sword before we left the temple, saying Sokka would want to be here fighting with us. Looking at the gleaming dark metal, I knew she was right.

The luminous light of the Avatar state in the distance, shortly followed by a deafening roar and rumbling earth signified the start of the battle. The monstrosities surrounding us, the same kind that butchered Ty lee, righted themselves before charging. There was a vindictive pleasure in cutting them down, watching their bodies crumble into dust as their heads rolled. The creatures were stronger and faster than normal people, that was unquestionable. However, for a veteran of the 100-year war, their attacks were laughably easy to read and counter.

As the battle drew on, the quakes from Aang's battle with the giant, snake-like beast continued, and exhaustion slowly began to seep in. There was a yell to my left followed by a sickening snap that drew my attention. The limp body of a survivor was held by one of our enemies, head twisted to an unnatural degree. It carelessly threw the body into another ally that was attempting to flank it before running towards the earthbenders.

"Katara!" I yelled, directing her to the monster. She quickly launched a disk of ice, decapitating the beast.

"Fall in!" I yelled, causing our allies to move closer to the earthbenders, closing the gap in our defense.

I risked a glance towards Aang's fight to see the serpent falling from a newly formed mountain, who's shadow covered our battlefield. The end of its tail was coiled around the light of the Avatar State. Not a moment later, a massive quake tore across the Earth, the impact echoing in its wake. Chaotic black and red energy tore through the air, washing over us, blasting through the cover of the pit, and, for the first time in ages, I felt my Firebending return as Agni's light shined once again.

Unlike before, when the energy entered the hole it pulsed. Before I could react, some of the energy solidified, wrapping around my waist, before it began to drag me with it.

"Azula!" I heard Katara yelled as she raced towards me, skating across her ice. Using it, Katara launched herself off the ramp, rapidly closing the distance between us. Her left hand gripped mine as she used the last of her water to freeze her feet to the ground, stopping the energy from pulling me further.

I smirked at the display. "Very impressive Master Katara." I said causing her to roll her eyes.

"Only you could brush off nearly dying so easily." She said, her light tone trying to hide the strain of fighting the pulling tendril of energy. Her expression softened before she looked me in the eyes and said "I told you we would make it through this remember. I'm not gonna let you make a list out of..." Her words abruptly stopped as warm blood splattered across my face. "Zula... Your face..." Her voice was weak, words barely audible. My mind shut down, a sinking emptiness filled me as I started at the now crimson fist sticking through my fiance's chest. I couldn't help but look into her wide, horrified, blue eyes as the first extracted itself. Her grip on my hand didn't lessen as the bloodied hand gripped her hair, pulling her head to the side.

Gaunt, bald, fanged monsters peered at me from over her shoulder, giving me a sickening, malicious, grin before sinking its teeth into the side of Katara's neck. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, the grip on my hand weakening. The slick blood coating her front caused my hand to slide out of hers within a moment, my grip causing her ring to slide off with it. I watched, unable to speak, as the tendril of energy pulled me into to pit. The last thing I saw being the light leaving Katara's beautiful eyes as it tore its fangs from her throat.

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

"For untold eons, demons walked the Earth. They made it their home, their, uh... their hell. But in time, they lost their purchase on this reality, and the way was made for mortal animals, for-for man. All that remains of the old ones are vestiges, certain magicks, certain creatures." -- Rupert Giles

#azulaweek2021 #azutara #kazula #azula x katara #atla ships #azula/katara #katara #princess azula #atla fanfic #buffy the vampire slayer #crossover #alternate universe #fanfiction

23 notes · View notes

everdreamart · 3 years ago

Text

How I Gravitate Towards You

Rating: Teen and up

Relationship: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widowgast

The Mighty Nein return The Blooming Grove. Essek takes time to think about the events that happened and has a talk with Caleb. Things slowly escalate from there ;)

~~~~~~~~~~

The grove was beautiful. Vines intertwined and tangled with the colorful blooms dotting the landscape. You would almost forget that this was, infact, a graveyard with the amount of life around it. Essek took a second to breathe in the nature around him. A very welcome change of environment compared to Cognoza.

Sighs and cheers of relief and triumph echoed around him as the Mighty Nein bathed in their newfound victory. The sight warmed his chest. His friends. Now there were actually nine of them.

How ironic. Essek thought to himself with a smile.

The Clays burst out of the moss covered temple and started to bombard the group with hugs. Caduceus was practically beaming with joy to see his family again. Jester rambled on about their adventure as the Clays eagerly rushed them inside. They gave curious glances to the two new members, but decided not to say anything about it at the moment.

Within moments food and tea were being prepared. Fjord asked to help with the cooking but was promptly shut down by Cornelius.

"Look at you all! It looks as if you have been through hell and back! Rest. We will take care of it," he said.

The food was delicious. Reminiscent of Caduceus' cooking from that one night in the Xhorhous. He smiled fondly at the memory. Essek's eyes drifted to each member of the Mighty Nein. How did this even happen?

His thoughts spiraled into an assortment of memories. Cold and alone in his study. Ambition gnawing at him as he struggles to progress in his research. Greed and selfish desire as he traded away his country's livelihood for knowledge. Fear as a bloodied human holds up one of the beacons he stole. Rage at the thought that his so very carefully planned espionage would be ruined by a bunch of sell-swords.

When had this ragtag group worn down his walls? Was it Jester's hugs? Or her consistently chaotic messages? Was it Yasha in her soft silence, or was it Beau in her harsh way of loving? Maybe Caduceus, with his gentle reassuring gestures. Or Veth, with her tough but kind way of showing care. Maybe it was Caleb. A mind that matches so perfectly to his own it was almost unsettling. Intellect sharp and piercing, with a gaze so intense he could melt under its warmth.

Essek found his eyes laid on Caleb. The strands of copper red hair falling partially over his eyes. A small part of him resists the urge to reach across the table and push the strands away. He studied his features, as if he hadn't already memorized them. The sharp curve of his jawline, his slightly tussled beard. Eyes so blue it almost felt like looking into the daytime sky. His mouth curved into a soft smile as he talked to Beauregard next to him. Essek lingered on that sight. The stress of these past weeks washed away as he focused on Caleb's smile. Then Caleb's eyes met his. Electricity jolted through him as the spark of whatever it was between them burned. Essek quickly looked away, a slight warmth building in his cheeks. He thanked the Luxon for drow skin coloration.

After food was had, the group gushed over their old (new..?) Friend. Poor man was probably so overwhelmed by the attention. Mollymauk - as Jester had told him - didn't say much at all in response to the Mighty Nein's questions.

"Empty… empty…" he trailed off.

As happy as they all were, exhaustion took over their senses. They were due for a much needed rest. Caleb did not have enough energy left to create the tower (Essek had quite a bit of thoughts he still needed to unpack about that place), so the group decided to sleep in the grove. Yasha lay with Beau snuggled up against her. They hugged and muttered sweet nothings to each other in low whispers. Molly was not too far from Yasha, and was quickly taken by peaceful sleep. Jester lay partially on Fjord's chest, talking about some new prank she wanted to try on her newly reunited parents. Caduceus lay back against the wall and was already passed out - his snore a rather loud one. Caleb lay next to veth, who was already out cold.

There wasn't really a need to be so close - they weren't in the confinements of the dome. And yet, they choose to drift near each other. Comfortable in the proximity. Essek felt very out of place. In the nights prior he could always stay a fair distance away from the cuddle pile, for the sake of keeping watch. But now, with the group all clumped together in the mass of life that was the blooming grove, Essek didn't know quite where to go. He fidgeted in his space as he debated where to trance. He can't go too far, but he definitely can't intrude on this intimate bond they all share. Eventually, Essek sits down a few feet from Caleb. He always seemed to gravitate towards him. Perhaps it was the similarities between them that made Essek feel safer in his presence.

Essek starts to begin his trance, and it is only then that the weight of the day's events crash onto him. The horrors of Cognoza will never truly leave his mind, but it is nothing compared to the absolute terror he felt when they were in that final fight.

The watch of one of the Somnovem caught him early on. The guilt of his actions surged into him tenfold. The lives he took, the families he'd broken, all for the sake of his selfish thirst for knowledge. It was all his fault.

He didn't catch sight of the tower hurled at him until it was too late. Caleb grunted as the weight of the rock (..flesh? It was very confusing) trapped him beneath it. Essek felt a surge of fear as he pictured the worst. He quickly scrambled over to where Caleb laid and desperately tried to pull him out. To no avail, it would seem. Those of his craft were not quite suited for these feats. Essek summoned the bead of possibility he had placed in himself beforehand. With a surprising surge of strength, he got Caleb to his feet.

In a rush of adrenalin,Caleb pulled him close and touched their foreheads together. If this was a different circumstance, Essek would be soaring. A small part of him completely forgot about the raging battle around them. That part focused on the presence of the man next to him. The wood burning autumn scent now mixed with the iron-y tinge of blood. That part of him noticed how close they were. Faces mere inches apart. Essek felt his heart jump into his throat. Then Caleb pulls back, the moment ending as quick as it began.

The ferver gained from this interaction was short-lived as Jester fell. Her bloody and broken corse strewn to the side carelessly. It was then that things started to go so very wrong. Jester was back thanks to Caduceus, mere seconds after she fell, but Esseks attention immediately went elsewhere. Caleb clutched at his torso with a grunt of pain as he fell, unconsciousness taking his form. Essek didn't even know he was capable of the rage that followed. He screamed and tore the very fabric of gravity itself around Lucien.

Then the battle field changed. It was no longer the fleshy horror of a city, but now a calming forest surrounding him. He looked forward to see the Mighty Nein - happy and smiling - with a hand outstretched towards him. It was Caleb. Caleb was calling him over to join them. Excitement burbled into him as he rushed towards the sight. It was only when he reached his destination he realized he had made a grave mistake.

The image of Caleb's torn and sundered body is one that will never leave Essek's mind. The sound it made as his lifeless corpse fell to the ground. The look he gave as the light left his eyes. It haunts him. The amount of terror, rage, pain and guilt he felt in that moment was immesruable. The world faded around him. Only being able to see the bloody shell of what once burned so bright. He fell to his knees, not hearing the final cries of battle around him. Essek's hands shook with emotion as he reached out to grab one of Caleb's. Those bright blue eyes he once knew were replaced by the vacuous expanse of emptiness and cold. He didnt hear the clerics rushing over and saying their prayers. He didn't hear the rest of the group trying to stifle their tears. He only stared into those eyes. Essek didn't breathe until Caleb inhaled once more.

Thoughts swirled around his head like an ocean of violent emotion. He can't trance like this. Essek stood up - trying his best to not wake his sleeping friends - and walked outside.

The calming reverie of the grove helped clear his mind a bit from these nightmares. He wandered around the exapanse, his hand tracing the occasional gravestone as he went. Eventually he came to the edge of the perimeter. Tall crystalline tree-like growths sprouted forth infront of him. Glowing ever so faintly. It was beautiful, the garden around him. So Essek sat and let himself soak up the tranquility of the nature around him.

It wasn't until he heard the rustle of footsteps that he opened his eyes.

"Its a bit late to be wandering the grove by yourself," Caleb noted, taking a seat next to Essek.

"Just… needed to clear my mind a bit." He replied.

"Ja, I get it. That was… a lot." Caleb laughed softly, a small smile playing on his lips. Essek found himself enraptured in the sound.

Caleb looked down, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if deep in thought. He turned to look at Essek with a burning intensity. "Thank you, Essek."

Essek was taken aback by this. "For what?"

"You didn't have to come with us. You didn't have to risk your life just because I asked. And yet, you came anyway. Thank you." Caleb spoke softly. Appreciative.

Essek's mind whirred with thoughts. He didn't know how to respond. "I…" he trailed off. "Of course I.." Of course I had to come. You asked me to. I would do anything you asked. He didn't say. Instead, settling upon, "Of course I came. I care for you all more than any Dynasty or Empire. And I owe you this much."

Caleb shifted a bit at that. His hands fidgeted for a moment as he looked away. He moved his hand to touch Essek's. The touch was minimal. Almost unoticable to anyone but himself. Essek nearly jumped at the contact. A familiar tingling setting into his stomach.

Caleb's hand slowly grabbed Essek's, calloused fingers meeting smooth ones. Essek tried to map every detail. Every little feeling of the other man's hand in his. Entirely focused on the heat covering his skin.

"What do you plan to do after this?" Caleb inquired.

That startled Essek out of his reverie. "I.. I honestly do not know." He mumbled out. He couldn't go back to the dynasty, not with his situation like this. Could he go back to the outpost? Would that be safer? He was still responsible for people up there. He hadn't noticed himself squeezing Caleb's hand. At least, until Caleb squeezed back.

"What about you?" Essek asked, trying to shift the focus. "What do you plan on doing now?"

Caleb pondered for a moment, before responding with "There is still a few issues I need to take care of. I still have to help fix my home. Remove a cancer before it can spread."

Then, silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, per say, but something hung in the air. After a few moment in this quiet, Caleb turned and placed Essek under the intensity of his gaze. Those blue eyes bore into him with such a warmth. And Essek craved it. He craved to feel those eyes wash over him. He needed to see those eyes, alive and burning with a fiery passion.

The immense gravity of what he almost lost crushes him. The man sitting next to him, tenitivly holding his hand, died. If things hadn't worked out so well, if something different happened, he wouldnt have Caleb here next to him. That thought broke him. His eyes dropped down to look at the ground. Apperently he wasnt doing a very good job at hiding his emotions at the moment, because Caleb's face fell. He frowned and scooted closer to cup Essek's cheek.

"What's wrong, Shaltz?" Caleb asks tenderly. His thumb rubbing Essek's Cheekbone.

Essek looked up at him, and put his other hand on Caleb's as if to confirm that he was really here. "You… died Caleb… you died and I couldn't do anything. What if Caduceus and Jester didn't get there so quickly? What if something went wrong? What if-"

"I'm here. I'm ok. Everything is ok." Caleb cut him off. His voice gentle and soothing.

It was only then that Essek met his gaze. Caleb smiled softly, and Essek realized how close they were. Caleb's breath ghosting over Essek's lips. Essek forgot how to breathe. He could only focus on the feeling of Caleb so close to him. So close and yet not close enough. If he could just close the few inches… It took every ounce of self control that Essek had to steady himself. His pounding heart, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He knew he was staring. How could he not? Small freckles speckled across Caleb's face, framed by vibrant red hair.

The hand placed on Essek's cheek moved to the back of his neck, and Essek froze. Caleb painstakingly leaned in. So slow, so excruciatingly slow. As if to give Essek time to back away. To leave. But he didn't. And their lips met. The kiss was so soft, almost featherlight, and Essek's mind went blank. He could only focus on the sensation of Caleb's lips on his, how they were chapped and warm and perfect.

Caleb pulled back, a breaths distance between them. In all of his study of time, all Essek wanted to do now was stop it on that moment. It was over far too soon. Just the smallest brush of lips. He wanted it to last longer. He wanted more.

Essek leaned back in, crashing their lips together. This time the kiss was more desperate. As if scared that the other would pull away. Essek relished in the feeling. The heat of the man so close to him spreading to every inch of his body. Their lips fit together perfectly. Moving together and pressing into eachother. Essek moved his hand to Caleb's head. His fingers combing through the strands of coppery red. It was perfect. He wanted to remember every little sensation. He wanted to chart every little movement. His heart was beating so hard in his chest. He wants this to last forever.

They separate after what feels like a lifetime to catch their breath. Caleb's mouth is still parted as he gasps for breath. Essek savors the taste of Caleb on his lips as his breathing begins to steady. Part of him wants to reach out. To take Caleb's mouth once more. But Caleb speaks before this is possible.

"That was…."

He doesn't need to complete the sentence. Essek already knew.

And they gravitated towards each-other once more.

#critical role #cr essek #caleb widogast #shadowgast #essek theyless #caleb x essek #This is my first CR fic pls don't judge #I just wanted the wizards to kiss #Almost canon compliant #don't forget to love each other

22 notes · View notes

bishwhatwhen88 · 3 years ago

Text

I can see through you ( Draco Malfoy x Slytheirn!reader

So this has been in my drafts for a LONG time and frankly i’m not used to posting the things i write ( this is my first time actually) So i’d be happy if you give some feedback and request ANYTHING you want . also i found the Gif on google credit to original owner

Summary: Short thing i wrote a year ago about reader knowing that Draco is secretly in pain because of his parents

The room had incredibly almost dome shaped ceilings , the rich green of house slytherin adorned many corners of the room , with the exception of silver and black where the green wasn’t suitable.

the clock upon the wall strikes three hours past midnight.

pale feet tap against the stairs leading down the boy’s dorms and into the room. A boy with pale hair and stormy eyes that hold a certain pride intertwined with pain . He slowly makes his way to the large dark green seating area near the crackling fireplace and then with a certain elegance-one inarguably taught in families of high status with much time and money on their hands-and then after many hours his shoulders relax and he allows himself to slouch.

“Draco”

came a soft , gentle voice of a girl.

The Lanky boy froze in place , pink lips slightly ajar.

“what do you want!?” he replied to the unknown voice

“I’ve seen you come here night after night, and each time you’re exhausted. I know we’re not friends but i’m worried for you .”

The voice finally found a body to belong to when Y/N stepped into the mild light

It was her.

He only knew her name even after three years of being in the same year and house. Though despite her slight presence her appearance made it difficult to be completely unseen , especially from someone like Draco of the notorious Malfoy family , trained to whiff out any Muggle-born or as his family enforced Mud-blood .

“What do you want from me L/N?” he said , trying to mask his interest

She gestured towards the seat infront of him , silently asking permission to sit .Draco swiftly nodded.

“Look I can sense how you feel , well not exactly but i know you’re not doing great, not that you ever were doing great”

The blond frowned , what she had said sounded like and insult though her tone was definitely not insulting , quite the opposite it was gentle.

whe he didn’t say anything she countinued “ Every bully has a reason Draco . And frankly calling people Mu-bad things isn’t the best way to deal with it .”

Draco paled-if even possible given that he already has Ivory skin-none of his so called friends ever saw through him.

“ You don’t know anything Mud-blood.”

as he was about to leave she caught his wrist with her warm hand

“ Draco i’ve been spending three hours after midnight in this common room for three years now . so when you come here and ball your eyes out while i try not to comfort you. you can’t tell me that i don’t know !”

Her orbs were diluted by tears

“ I know you don’t give a damn about blood status . you just need a socially acceptable way to insult others. “

Draco rose to his feet and came to stand infront of her, and with a swift motion he kissed her lips with his plump ones . Both could feel the exciting bubbling in their stomachs .

He suddenly pulled away , horrified.

“I-I my parents , my father will be furiou-“

she held his chin to look at her

“ Draco this is your life , not their and this one way street they’re on is gonna get them killed.”

She had no idea the greatness of the change she had made that night.

He will forever be thankful.

#draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter #slytherin #random #draco lucius malfoy #draco fic

19 notes · View notes

with-love-anu · 4 years ago

Text

Stunning

Pairing: James Potter x Zookeeper Punk!Reader

Summary: James visits the zoo everyday to talk to you.

Warnings: none that I could find, swearing, maybe?

Word Count: 1,133

Remus sighed. Taking James and Sirius to a muggle zoo was not a good idea. Being brought up in the wizarding society they had no idea whatsoever about muggle creatures.

“So wait, muggles trap the creatures in a cage, and people pay money to go see them?” Sirius asked with widened eyes.

“Yes, it helps to preserve them and provides jobs for a whole lot of people.” Remus informed.

“Can we go?” James asked.

Now as he looked back to the decision of agreeing he found, it didn’t make much sense. Sirius and James looked wide eyed at every single creature, reading every single information plate.

“Mate these lions are so cool in real life!” Sirius squeaked.

“I know right? So majestic! No wonder they are the symbol of Gryffindor.” James said jumping.

James and Sirius continued to gawk and get thrilled to see all kinds of fishes and water animals at the aquarium and Remus felt himself smile at them. Sure, they might be a chaotic group, but they were his best friends, and they were so happy to come here. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“What’s that?” James asked at the rail guarded dome.

“Oh, those must be the places where the birds reside.” Remus said.

Sirius and James gasped when they entered the dome. It was positively cooler and there were even more trees around. Everyone could hear the squeaks and the chirping of the birds as they flew over their head. Remus noticed the staff handing out pellets and worms to people.

“Mate it’s feeding time!” Remus said pointing towards the area where the staff was distributing bird food. The three of them excitedly took in the food in their palms as birds rushed in sitting on their arms, eating. James and Sirius squealed like children.

James turned around seeing different birds sitting people’s arms, heads and shoulders. He noticed a bright blue bird sitting on a low tree not eating anything. He went towards it, taking some pellets. Just as he came close a voice came behind him.

“He’s shy. Don’t go too near, you’ll scare him.” you said looking at the man who went joyously towards Evan.

James turned around to see a girl with bright lavender hair and dark eyes.

“What?” he asked slowly.

“He was just rescued from illegal traffickers. He is new here.” You said smiling.

The man stared at you. You were used to the staring. People always did that. But there was something in his gaze that made you blush.

“I’m James.” he said offering his free hand.

“(Y/n)” you said shaking it

James felt like he was in a trance, she was so beautiful.

“Wait. I’ll get him, don’t do anything until I tell you to, okay?” you told him.

“Okay.” James said nodding briskly.

You went towards Evan, cooing at him gently. You offered your arm and he hesitantly stepped on it.

“Good boy” you praised taking him slowly towards James. As you came towards him, he suddenly felt nervous. What if he scared the bird or did something wrong?

“Okay, Evan. This is a nice man. He’ll feed you okay.” You said pointing towards James to feed him. James slowly offered the pellets in his hand and to his surprise Evan started eating.

“He likes you. He usually refuses to eat from visitors” You told him softy.

James smiled.

“So, what do you do here?” he asked curiously.

“I take care of the more exotic birds, around here. Most of them feel scared. I try to make them at home.”

“That’s cool.” James added with bright eyes making you laugh.

“You could say that.”

“Mate!!!! Did you see that bird?” Sirius said jumping in making Evan startle and fly away.

“Shit! I’m so sorry.” James said before glaring at Sirius who looked confused.

“That was a shy bird and had finally started eating!” he groaned and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he eats something later” you said leaving behind a swoon James. Sirius noticed his staring and smirked.

“You like her, huh?” Sirius asked wriggling his eyebrows. James blushed.

“Very much.”

***

James went to the zoo the very next day, heading straight to the bird dome. He saw you standing near a flight of birds talking and feeding them.

“Hi!” he greeted. Your eyes flicked over to him. There was a moment of confusion before you remembered him.

“Hi! You’re here again!” you asked smiling.

“Yeah, I wanted to make friends with Evan. You don’t mind, do you?” James asked hesitantly, making you giggle.

“No, of course not. Come on” you said taking him to Evan. He was sitting, eating a grape. You cooed at him before he sat your hand and you brought him towards James.

“Evan look! Someone’s here to meet you.” You said pointing towards James. James looked at Evan and chuckled.

“Heyyy there little fella! You got scared yesterday.” He said pointing a finger. Evan hesitantly grabbed it with his claws and you smiled brightly.

“He is happy! He always does that to me when he is happy!” You chirped making James smile.

***

James visited you at the zoo, everyday after that. He would help you and talk and pet birds. He was cute. You had started to like him. He would flirt with you always leaving you red faced. There was something about him that just seemed to draw you towards him. His bright hazel eyes, dark brown hair. And he was smart too. He told you he worked at a foreign agency. You slowly started to open up. You told him about your life and how you always got a lot of stares because of your appearance.

“Wait, what?” James asked furrowing his brows.

“Well, I mean most people don’t like a girl with bright colored hair, dark clothes, which according to them are ‘Band costumes’. And I always get judged for you know, my piercings and stuff, some don’t say it out loud and would just not talk to me based on how I look.” You shrugged.

“I think they are just jealous. They don’t have the guts to rock the look you have, and judge you to feel better. I mean look at you! You’re stunning! I still can’t believe you bear with me everyday.”

You blushed.

“I don’t bear with you, I quite like having you around. I…” you chuckled. “I like you.”

You saw James face break into a big loopy smile.

“Go on a date with me.” He blurted. “Like not a zoo. Some place fancy, where I wear a suit and you are hand and hand with me leaving me speechless at how I got to go out with someone like you.”

You smiled and your eyes crinkled.

“I’d like that.”

A/N: This was written for the lovely anon. Here is the request. I would love it if you could tell me whether I did it right.

#james #james potter #james x reader #james potter x reader #the marauders #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #Anu writes

187 notes · View notes

lysjeon · 5 years ago

Text

— sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When your boyfriend is late for your valentine’s day date you never thought it was because of a book he wanted to read to you. You would be mad for his tardiness, but how could you be when he comes running to you, chocolate-covered strawberries on one hand and a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the other and a big warm smile on his face as his twinkly eyes look back at you?

— ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: namjoon x reader

— ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff, smut, valentine’s day au, college au

— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fingering, dirty talk, sub/dome themes, chocking (tie and hands), creampie, namjoon has a big cock lol, unprotexted sex (stay safe pls), lots of sex jokes, namjoon being a cute ass bad boy boyfriend.

— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.7K

— part of the Bound In Love collab!

header credits go to @tokyoscript

Namjoon’s fingers gently ran along the spine of the books in the library, his eyes scanning all the titles quickly, stopping every once in a while to take one that seemed familiar out but shaking his head in defeat when he realized it was not what he was looking for. This had been the third aisle he had been searching and if it wasn’t because he was doing this for you, he would have given up two hours ago and gone somewhere else to find a last minute gift for you before he had to leave for your date.

“Hyung, what are you even looking for?” Jeongguk asked, plopping down on a bean bag near Namjoon as he mindlessly skimmed through a magazine.

“For a book.” He answered matter of factly.

“Oh, really? I thought you were looking for the ice cream truck.” The younger answered sarcastically. “Just tell me the name of the book you’re looking for so I can help you find it, or else we’ll be here for another three hours and we both have dates to go to.”

“I don’t know the name of it.” Namjoon answered, not even turning around to look at Jeongguk. “I just remember reading it in my lit class like two years ago around the time I met her.”

“Why are you so fixated on finding this book, anyway? Can’t you just choose one of the other thousand books you read to gift to her?”

“No, because in it there’s this part where it says what love is and I remember thinking I wanted to feel those exact words some day and now that I do I want to read them to her.” Namjoon explained, walking towards the next aisle, Jeongguk following close behind.

“I never thought you were the romantic type.” Jeongguk teased his hyung, laughing when he slapped his chest and rolled his eyes. “You know, when you two started dating I never thought it would work out.” The younger admitted, earning the older’s attention, who turned his head to look at him. “Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled at Namjoon’s furrowed brows. “I don’t think anyone expected you two to work out.”

“What do you even mean?” Namjoon asked, slightly offended at his friend’s words.

“You two are so different, aesthetically at least.” He shrugged, “You wear black and leather jackets. You smoke cigarettes and intimidate people with how quiet you are most of the time.” Jeongguk started, “And she wears dresses and light colors. She’s a social butterfly and everyone knows her as the cute girl on campus.” He shrugged, “So it was weird seeing you two together at first and we all thought your personalities would clash just like your looks did, but then when I got to know her better I realized you two were actually pretty much the same.”

Namjoon couldn’t deny that. You and him were completely different, but that’s what made you feel attracted to each other in the first place. You were attracted to his tough boy image- that proved to be just a facade because once you started going out with him more and more you realized how nice he actually was, always listening to you intently and making sure you were comfortable with each of his advances on you- and the way he always looked at you as if you had put the stars in the sky. And he was attracted to the way you, unlike every other girl he had tried to talk to, didn’t seem to be intimidated by him, staring back every time you caught his eyes on you at a party before you had even started hanging out, always shooting him a smile that had his whole world shaking from the moment he met you.

“I guess you’re right.” Namjoon shrugged once again, focusing back on searching for that one book.

Without any other words the both of them went back to searching for the book Namjoon was so desperately looking for, giving a quick description of the book to Jeongguk so he could help him find it. Only now, just a couple hours before your date, he damned himself for putting it off for so long and not starting to look for it before, then again he never thought that it would be so hard to find it.

Almost an hour later, the maknae had left Namjoon to search on his own, as he had to get ready for his date and unlike his hyung, he wasn’t risking being late, mainly because his girlfriend would kill him if he was. Don’t get me wrong, Namjoon knew you would kill him if he was late, especially today because not only was it Valentine’s Day but it was also your second anniversary, but he wanted to find the book and give it to you today, and he wasn’t going to stop looking until he found it.

He checked the time on his phone as he walked to another shelf of books to continue his search. You had agreed to meet two hours from now, so if he found the book in the next 45 minutes he would have enough time to get ready for your date and not be late.

Of course, that didn’t happen because two hours later, when he finally checked his phone again, he saw the time and below it the multiple calls and messages you had left asking him where he was and if he had forgotten about your date. Heart racing with panic and book in hand he ran as fast as he could towards his dorm, where he took the quickest shower he had ever taken before he left to meet you.

Almost thirty minutes past the time you were supposed to meet your boyfriend you still stood there, small gift bag hanging from your wrist as you wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes of blocking the cold air that had your body shivering every now and then (you should have worn a thicker coat, but you made a sacrifice for the sake of the cute outfit you had planned days ago).

Once the initial anger of him being late for your date, worry started to settle in the pit of your stomach because it’s Namjoon, he had never been late to a date in the two years that you had been together and he wasn’t answering your calls or messages (of course it was because he was too busy rushing over to where you were to do so) so something you thought something must have happened.

In no time you were calling one of his best friends and roommates, Hoseok, but he didn’t answer. Next, you tried Taehyung, because you remembered him mentioning that he didn’t have any plans for tonight, so unless that had changed he should be in their dorm.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to where the familiar voice calling your name had come from and saw your boyfriend jogging towards you, breathing heavy probably due to all the stairs he had to run up, bouquet of red tulips in one hand and a box which contents you couldn’t see in the other.

You quickly ended the call and turned fully towards him, your arms crossing over your chest as you watched him catch his breath. Now that he was there, seemingly unharmed, your anger was coming back.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I-”

“Thirty minutes late.” You add, cutting him off.

“I know baby, I lost track of time.” He confessed, looking at you with an apologetic smile, his dimples prominent. “I got you these,” He said, handing you the flowers “And these.” He showed you the inside of the box, revealing a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries.

You looked up at him and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cliché his presents were, his smile getting bigger when he heard you. How could you be mad at your giant boyfriend when he was always so cute and soft? Shaking your head slightly, you went on your tiptoes to leave a soft peck on his lips, making him hum in content.

“Baby, I’m really sorry for being late, I just got caught up trying to find this.” He said, shrugging off his back pack and looking through it to take out the book.

“A book?” You asked, looking up at him with a puzzled look.

“Yeah,” He laughed. “I was reading it for a class when we met and I wanted to show it to you.” He smiled down at you shyly, making your heart melt.

You both put down the blanket he had brought on his backpack and sat down on it, strawberries between the both of you waiting to be eaten as you watched Namjoon go through the pages of the book with a soft smile. He did a little victory nod when he found the page he was looking for and looked at you, only to find you already looking at him.

With one last quick look at you, he started reading the passage and it wasn’t long until you started getting emotional, his soft voice reading to you about what love is making your eyes fill with happy tears.

You loved this man, more than you could ever explain with words and sometimes you worried not being able to express to him how much he truly meant to you, but at the same time you just knew he did. You were sure that he knew that he was the one for you and that this was it, the would never be anyone else like him for you.

He knew because he felt the exact same way. Before heet you he had never wanted to spend his life with anyone. Date? yes, but actually imagining a future where he grew old and shared every single moment of his life with someone else had never crossed his mind until he met you.

“When we started dating I knew that I would feel these words for you some day,” he confessed, referring to the book. “And of course I’ve felt them for a while, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you that you’re the one. I know you know, but I’ve never actually said it.” He smiled, his thumb collecting a few tears that fell down your cheek. “I love you, pretty girl, and I want to spend my life with you.” He whispered, leaving soft kisses all over your face as he spoke.

“Fuck, I hate you. I spent like two hours on my make up and you made me ruin it.” You say, making him chuckle.

“It was gonna get ruined later anyways.” He shrugged and winked as you hit his chest with your hand playfully.

You get up quickly and before he can even ask you what you were doing you sat back down on his lap this time, your legs on either side of him as your hands cupped his face to make him look at you.

“Joonie, I love you.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him softly for a few seconds. “I want to spend my life with you too, that’s why I got us this.” You say, handing him the small gift bag to him and waiting for him to open it.

"What is it?” He asks, taking a peek inside the bag.

You chuckle and shake your head. “You have to open it to see!”

He chuckled along with you as he took out the small rectangular box, giving you a quick curious glance before you urged him to open it with a smile that was making his heart race. When he finally opened the box, he saw two delicate gold rings that had both your initials engraved on the inside.

“Do you like them?” You asked with a smile when he looked up at you. “I know you hardly ever wear rings but I thought getting couple rings would be nice. They’re like unofficial promise rings.”

“Unofficial promise rings, huh? For a moment I thought you were about to propose to me.” You both laughed at that “Not gonna lie, I would’ve said yes.”

“I know, it’d be a blessing to have me as a wife.” You joke, making him snort as he leaned into you.

He pressed his lips against yours softly at first, but that didn’t last long because as soon as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him closer he left the rings on the floor next to him so his hands could wrap around your waist.

The kiss turned hungrier and deeper, and you patted yourself on the back mentally for just wearing a tinted chapstick instead of lipstick. Namjoon’s hands slid down your back until they reached your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you moan against his lips and him to chuckle at your reaction.

He pulled away from your mouth and started trailing kisses down your jaw, licking and sucking purple marks into the skin of your neck that you know would be a pain in the ass cover, but you were past the point of caring. His hands reached the hem of your long dress, that thanks to the way you were sitting on his lap was scrunched around your knees, and rand them along the soft skin of your thighs until he reached your pantyline.

“Joon,” You whined, already worked up by his touch.

“Hm baby?” He asked, lust clear in his deep voice. “What’s wrong, little one?”

You whined again at his words, slowly starting to grind against him for some kind of relief, making him look down and chuckle at you. You stopped and moaned loudly when his hand slapped your ass, and even in this position his slaps were sharp and hard.

“You’re being so needy.” He chuckled darkly, completely taken over by lust. “So, so needy.” He repeated, finally sliding his fingers inside your panties, his fingers instantly getting covered with your wetness. “And so wet already. You’re always such a good girl for me, and since today is a special day I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” He asked, one of his fingers pressing against your clit and making you jump up.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered as his finger started moving. “Fuck, p-please.”

“Please what, baby? What do you want?”

“Fingers. In me.” You simply said, sentences getting harder and harder with every flick of his skillful fingers against your clit.

“Anything for you, princess.”

The moment he said that, two of his long fingers entered you, the sudden stretch making you almost scream in pleasure. He quickly set up a fast pace, one that had you seeing stars every time his fingers curled inside you. His free hand joined his other one and started playing with your clit, the bundle of nerves sending strong waves of pleasure through your whole body.

The fire in the pit of your stomach was almost painful as you were getting so close to your release. Seeing how close you were to your high, Namjoon started sucking and biting once again on your neck, knowing how sensitive you were there.

“Hngg- gonna c-cum.” You say breathlessly, hands squeezing his shoulders tight for support.

“Cum baby, cum for me.” He whispered against your collarbone.

His words were enough to push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you were shaking against him as he helped you ride it all out. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist once you became too sensitive for him to continue fingering you, signaling him to stop.

As you tried to catch your breath, you watched him bring his hand up to his mouth, his fingers covered in your release. He licked them clean, the sight making you whine.

“You look so hot doing that.” You say breathlessly, making him laugh out loud at your comment.

“You good?” He asked you a few minutes later. “I wanna take you somewhere.”

Intrigued, you nodded, and soon you were leaving the rooftop everything had started in two years ago, hand in hand and shiny new rings on your fingers.

>> “Why do I have to wear this?” You asked, more like whined, as you clung to his arm for support.

“Because if you didn’t it would ruin the surprise.” He said, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smirking.

A few minutes ago, before you got out of his car, he had blindfolded you with a tie that he had brought on his backpack, claiming that he had a big surprise for you and that he didn’t want you to get any ideas as to what it was until you actually saw it.

You couldn’t see anything which only made you hyper aware to sounds around you, but nothing that you’ve heard so far had given you any clue as to where you were or what Namjoon’s surprise was. So far you heard a dog barking, your footsteps echoing loudly as you walked up some stairs, an elevator, hardwood floors and finally the jinggling of keys.

“You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” You asked when he left you standing there and you heard a door close behind you.

“Why would I have waited two years to kill you? It would’ve been a waste of my time.” He answered simply, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he came back to your side and made you walk a few steps more.

“I mean, maybe you wanted me to trust you so you could kill me without me putting up much of a fight?” You tried to reason. “Although that would be kinda stupid because usually the boyfriend is always one of the main suspects.”

“Babe, I’m not gonna kill you.” He laughed.

“I’m just saying you could, and I would’ve never suspected a thing.” You shrugged.

“Okay, I’m gonna take your blindfold off.” He whispered against your ear, shivers running down your spins at his soft voice.

You could feel him behind you, his chest was lightly pressing against your back as his fingers slid the tie that was blocking your vision down your head, leaving it hanging loosely around your neck. When he took it out, it took you a few moments to adjust to the lighting, but once you did you frowned, confusion taking over you.

As you looked around you started to recognize the place, it was the same as the last time you had been there, except for a mattress in the middle of the empty living room space and grocery bags next to the kitchen counter.

“This is the apartment we looked at a few weeks ago for you, isn’t it?” You asked, finally turning around towards him. “Did you get it?” You asked, excitement rushing over you when he nodded. “Oh my god! I’m so happy for you, Joon, this is the one you really liked!” You say jumping up and down and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He laughed at your reaction and wrapped his own arms around your waist before he spoke. “This is the apartment that we liked.” He corrected you, smiling brightly. “There’s a reason I wanted you to come apartment haunting with me. I wanted to get a place that we both loved because I want you to move in with me.”

You were clearly taken aback by his request, your eyebrows raising and your eyes getting big. “Really?”

“Yeah. We basically spend every night together already, whether it is at your place or my dorm and given that we both have roommates I thought it would be nice to have a space that’s just our own.” He explained. “Besides, here we can be as loud as we want.” He teased, squeezing your hips. “So what do you say?”

You smiled up at him and pecked his lips quickly. “Of course I say yes.” You answer, making him pick you up and spin you around, both of you laughing out loud.

When he put you down, he pressed his lips against yours, starting a kiss that once again started innocent but quickly turned sinful, tongues messily crashing against each other.

“I guess now we have to christen the apartment, don’t we?” You say teasingly, one of your hands coming down to squeeze his already hardening member.

He smirked at your words. “I guess so.”

As your hand continued rubbing his cock through the material of his jeans, he wrapped the long end of the tie around his fist to pull you in for an even hungrier kiss. As you kissed, you could feel his hands fiddling with the tie knot, wrapping it tighter around your neck and pulling you away from him when it was tight enough.

“Strip, little one.” He said, voice deep and tone demanding.

As you started stripping, first taking off your leather jacket- that he had gifted to you for your last birthday - and then slipping off your dress, you could feel his intense gaze on you, dark eyes scanning every single new patch of naked skin you revealed to him.

Once you were standing just in your underwear, you looked up at him with a smile, your eyes flickering to the now painfully noticeable tent in his tight jeans before locking your eyes with him and licking your lips. He knew exactly what you were thinking in that moment, so without saying anything, he pulled the tie down and in no time you were on your knees, hands quickly working to unbuckle his belt and take out his cock.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chuckled as he watched you pull down his jeans and boxers in one quick motion.

“For you? Always.” You answered with a smirk.

Your hand wrapped around his cock and slowly started pumping it, your eyes locked on his, watching the pleasure your hand only was causing him. When he had enough of your teasing, he pulled on the tie quickly, making you giggle and get closer to him, licking a long stipe up his dick and pushing the tip into your mouth when you reached to it.

Getting bored of just having his tip in your mouth, you started taking him deeper and deeper, until you could feel him in the back of your throat and you were struggling to breathe properly, and even then you couldn’t take all of him in. Namjoon was big, the biggest you had ever seen and you remember feeling intimidated by his size when you started dating him but now, two years down the road, you absolutely loved it.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” He groaned, the hand that didn’t have the tie wrapped around it going to tangle in your hair. “Do you think you could go deeper?” He asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes, but challenging yourself you nodded as best as you could. “Okay baby, relax your jaw.” And you did, little by little he started pushing deeper than he has ever been. “Fuuuck, shit, that’s it. You’re being so good. Stay there.”

When he saw that you couldn’t take him any deeper he stilled there for a few seconds, head thrown back as your throat squeezed his dick before relaxing again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He said, suddenly pulling all the way out of your mouth, making you start coughing and thick strands of saliva to dribble down your chin. “Baby, you’re so good to me, I almost came there.” He chuckled, pulling on the tie so you would stand up. “You okay?”

Without hesitation you nodded, the ache in the muscles of your throat the least of your priorities right now, and to be honest you could barely feel it with how turned on you were.

“Bed, now.” He demanded, letting go of the tie so he could take off the rest of his clothes.

You obeyed, turning on your heels and quickly walking towards the lonely mattress. You sat down on it and focused on how your boyfriend was taking his shirt off, seeing him strip was honestly one of your favorite parts of having sex with him. He always was so hot and sometimes it only took him taking off his shirt to have you wet beyond belief.

“Like the view?” He asked, walking over to join you on the makeshift bed. “You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I plan on it.” You answer back, making him laugh.

After that he wasted no time in more small talk, he hooked his fingers onto you panties and slid them down quickly, revealing your glistening pussy to him. He pushed your legs open and leaned down to lick a few long stripes up and down your slit, making you moan every time his tongue pressed against your clit.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispered against your thigh, lightly biting it before he went back to lick your pussy a few more times. “Look how needy your little cunt is, it’s spasming already begging for my cock, isn’t it?” He says as he kissed up your belly and unclasped your bra.

“Please, Joon, fuck me.” You whine, your back arching when his mouth started sucking on one of your perked up nipples.

He didn’t answer you, but you could feel him smirk against your breaks. One of his hands went down between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance, making you gasp when you felt his tip pushing into you. He started slow, knowing that even after all this time, you still needed a few seconds to adjust to his size.

When you tried to push him deeper, that was his confirmation that you wanted him to continue, so without warning he slammed the rest of his cock into you until your hips were flush together and deep moans escaped both of your lips.

“Fuck, faster.” You almost screamed, his cock grazing your gspot with every thrust.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His pace quickly fastened, making you scream his name and your vision to go blurry from pleasure. He pushed himself up with his arms, looking down between you to watch his dick disappearing into your pussy. When he looked back at you, your head was thrown back, eyes closed shut and mouth wide open as loud moans escaped it.

One of his hands wrapped around your throat, lightly squeezing so you would look at him, when you did he almost came right then and there, you looked so fucked out already. Your lips were bright red and swollen, your cheeks were flushed with pink and a thin layer of sweat covered your whole body.

Absolutely beautiful.

“Fuck baby, I-I’m gonna cum.” He warned, at this you opened your eyes and nodded, wordlessly telling him that you were too.

His thrusts became harder and sloppier, and it didn’t take much longer for both of you to come undone after that. Loud moans and curses were shared as both of you reached your highs together, Namjoon continuing to thrust into you to help you ride out your orgasm until you were too sensitive to handle his soft thrusts.

He carefully slipped out of you, watching his cum drip out of your pussy for a few seconds before he plopped down next to you, turning his head so he could look at you.

“You look so cute like this.” He commented as he pushed your hair away from your face.

“Like what?” You chuckled.

“Fucked out.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You probably ruined my make up.”

“I did, but you still look pretty.” He shrugged and leaned in to peck your lips. “Want one?” He asked, reaching over you to take out a package of cigarettes from the pocket of his backpack.

“Only if we share it.” You nodded, watching him light one up and then handing it to you.

“As long as you share those extremely overpriced strawberries.” He laughed, watching you exhale the smoke into the air.

“Wouldn’t share them with anyone else.” You kiss him. “Happy Valentine’s day and second anniversary, baby. Thank you for not killing me.” You whisper against his lips.

He laughed loudly at that and kissed you again. “No problem, babe. Happy anniversary.”

#hyunglinenetwork #moonchildnetwork #bangtanarmynet #thekimlinenet #kim namjoon #bound in love: the collab #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon au #namjoon college au #bts namjo #namjoon fic #lysjeon #bts rm #boyfriend namjoon #bts kim namjoon #rm

447 notes · View notes

moonlitdesertdreams · 3 years ago

Text

Judgement Call (Din Djarin x OC)- Chapter XVIII

CHAPTER XVIII: IMPROBABLE

They departed for Nevarro as soon as possible. Kuiil had pursuaded Din to allow IG-11 and the Bluurg aboard, both which surprised Zakia to no end. She was endlessly amused by the Mandalorian's body language as Kuiil brought his own crew aboard.

Zakia was in charge of the controls for the first part of their journey, and she lifted them off of Arvala-7 and into hyperspace with ease. She climbed from the pilot's chair and clambered below deck, kicking off her boots as she neared the cargo hold. The Child cooed at her appearance, but was more focused on the sight across from him.

Mando and Cara were seated across from each other, a crate in between them as a makeshift table. Their palms were facing each other's, and Cara counted down from five before they clasped hands. Zakia laughed at them, placing herself behind Mando as the arm wrestling competition got underway. Both parties grunted with the effort, but Zakia could see Mando's arm wavering.

"I've got you, Mando." Cara managed, hair falling over her face.

The Mandalorian was right behind her teasing. "Care to double the bet?"

Zakia cocked a brow. "I don't know if that's a smart idea, honey."

"The peanut gallery needs to hush." Mando snapped playfully.

Zakia huffed a laugh, watching both sides struggle to victory. As Cara pushed the Mandalorian's arm further down, her arm twitched and she hesitated. Zakia was focused on tha table, and wasn't paying attention when she spoke up.

"What's with the reluctance, Ca- Cara? Cara?"

The shock-trooper suddenly jerked away from their match, both hands coming to grip at her throat. She choked, unable to get any words out. Zakia gripped Din's shoulder.

"What is-"

"No! No, no, no!" Din scrambled out of his seat, darting over to the bassinet.

Zakia watched in horror as the Child sat with one hand outstretched, fingers balled into a tiny fist. It was obviously the source of Cara's peril.

"Stop! We're friends, we're friends!" Din shook the Child once, and Cara sucked in a breath. Zakia rushed to the Child, catching Kuiil's eye as she did so.

"Cara is my friend!" Din was still yelling towards the Child when Zakia approached.

"That is not okay!" Cara yelled when she got her breath back.

Zakia stared wide-eyed at Mando. "He froze me the other day. You think his power is growing?"

Mando shook his head, shoulders heaving. "I don't know."

"Hm. Very curious." Kuiil interjected, coming to stand next to Zakia.

"Curious? It almost killed me!" Cara exclaimed, weakly lunging out of her seat.

"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense." Kuiil ignored Cara's hostility,

"What is it?" Zakia asked, searching the Ugnaught's face for answers. "He did this to me yesterday. Not choking, but he used this power."

"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this... this I've heard rumors of." Kuiil tapped the Child's head carefully. Zakia took him from Din, though didn't coddle him as usual.

"What? When you worked for the Empire?" Cara spat, still clutching at her neck. Zakia whirled on her at the comment.

"We are currently running from the Empire!" The blonde said.

Kuiil held up a hand. "When I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude."

Cara managed to stand. "Yet somehow, you walk free."

Din tugged Zakia back towards him, and the Child squeaked. It could obviously sense the growing tension in the ship. "Stay out of it."

Zakia set her jaw and nodded, but didn't argue. It was no use making enemies with their allies.

"I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands. And the labor of three of your human lifetimes." IG-11 stepped into the room then, causing all of the occupants, sans Kuiil, to turn. "Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve."

Cara didn't respond to him, eyes fixed on IG-11's still form. The cylindrical head spun once, but made no other move. Din managed to break the tension, stepping forward and nudging Zakia with him.

"Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the Child can sleep better?" The Mandalorian tenderly lifted the Child from Zakia's arms and placed it in the bassinet.

Kuiil gave the container a quick once-over. "I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."

Din nodded, and reached for his partner. "Excuse us for just a moment."

"I'll be up top." Cara told them.

Zakia nodded before following Din to their small quarters. "What's wrong?"

Din waited until the door slid shut. "Have you seen him do it before?"

"The Child? Not until he stopped me yesterday." Zakia replied, leaning against the edge of their bed. "Why?"

"Just wanted to be sure. If something happens on Nevarro, I don't want him trying to attack." Din rubbed at the back of his neck.

"You're tired." Zakia observed, taking a few steps to close the gap between them. "Have you not slept since our nap before Sorgan?"

He shook his head. "No time."

"You can't govern your life on time, Din. You know this." Zakia tried her best to be reassuring, but the coming events hung over their heads like an anvil ready to fall.

"I can't let anything happen to you," Din looked up, "to the Child."

Zakia smiled, pressing into his chest. She wrapped a single arm around his torso, fingers knotting together in his cloak. Din's arms fell to wrap around her shoulders, and he tipped his helmet to rest in her hair. Zakia reached behind him to swat the lightswitch, and darkness enveloped them. Even with her eyes open as wide as they would go, there were no shapes or colors visible.

Din had beaten her to the punch for her next actions; Zakia heard the pneumatic hiss of his helmet's release before she could lift her hands. He leaned to the side to set it on their bed, and returned to her arms shortly thereafter. She closed her eyes when his nose nuzzled into her hair, moving gently down until he rested in the crook of her shoulder. Zakia brought a hand up to rake through his hair, dropping a kiss where she could reach.

"We should go above deck." He muttered into her shirt.

"I'm sure Cara won't mind if you take a minute to recover." Zakia stroked the hair at his nape, smiling when she felt his lips against her neck. She leaned back, and sighed when his lips found hers.

"I love you." He said, nipping her bottom lip gently.

Zakia smiled against his mouth. "I know. I love you too."

After a lengthy conversation with Din about the Empire remnants on Nevarro, Cara had descended into the cargo hold to prep for their landing. Zakia was sitting cross- legged in the co-pilot's seat, and stood when they broke into Nevarro's atmosphere. Din imagined there was little left except the nub of her fingernails, as she had been gnawing on them since they left their quarters.

Din couldn't fight the fact that his anxiety was high when it came to this mission. If Karga was lying- which was likely- there were a lot of Guild members who would be happy to pull the trigger on him or Zakia. He was grateful when she rested her hand on his chair, waiting patiently for the ship to land.

"You ready?" He asked, standing from his seat once the landing gear was stable.

"Yeah. Are you?"

The Mandalorian stood to his full height, dwarfing his partner. "As I'll ever be."

They descended below deck, where Cara and Kuiil had already mounted their Bluurg. Standing at the ready near the ramp, Din pressed the release and helped Zakia onto theirs. Shaking off the week's events, he hauled a leg over the animal and pulled himself up. The Child was in its new bassinet, which was rather reminiscent of the original one they found him in.

Nevarro was exactly as Din remembered, with rocky ground and a generally desolate atmosphere. They were in the middle of the flats, with the small bazaar far away in the distance. Zakia had a hand resting on his hip, hidden beneath his cloak. The new rifle he had purchased during their time in Mos Eisley was strapped over her shoulder, as well as her dual blasters and a spare on her ankle. Zakia was armed to the teeth, and it sent a wave of reassurance through Mando as they faced their old colleague.

"Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando. But things have gotten complicated since you were last here." Greef Karga was flanked by three hunters, all of which Din was unfamiliar with. Nonetheless, they didn't exactly exude amicability. "It appears that introductions are in order."

None of them replied. They stood as one silent front, and the intimidation factor seemed to be working as Karga continued.

"It seems we've both provided a security detail." Greef sighed, and finally lifted his hand to point at Cara. "I recommend the shock-trooper guards the ship. These lava fields are lousy with Jawas."

Zakia's fingers squeezed through his clothes. "She comes with us." Din asserted.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up."

"She's coming." Zakia reiterated Mando's words, glaring around his body at Greef.

"Fine. Fine. At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it." Karga opened his arms and made a hard left in conversation topics. "Now, where is the little one?"

Their alliance all traded looks before Mando deemed it their best move. He lifted his vambrace and punched in the bassinet's access code. The domed object hovered to Karga, and the lid separated to reveal the baby. Zakia's hand left his hip to rest over her blaster, and Mando maintained his position to conceal her.

"So this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about." Karga reached into the cradle, gingerly examining their charge. "What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head."

The Child was lowered back into the bassinet, and Zakia's fingers slunk away from the blaster to return to Mando's hip.

"Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all." Their former boss set his hands on his hips as the cradle hissed and closed. Din turned the tether back on, and the pram floated back to their side. "The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light."

After it was agreed upon, Karga and his men led the trio of Bluurg and their riders across the lava flats. It was much easier traversing the terrain on the animal's backs, and Din was thankful for Kuiil's insistence on bringing them. The atmosphere surrounding the group was tense, made even more so by the conspicuous glances Karga's lackies sent in Din's direction.

"They're going to try and kill us." Zakia's right hand was holding tightly onto Mando's cuirass, the other wrapping itself into his tunic. "Take the reward for themselves."

Din tipped his head to the side. "I know. They don't stand a chance."

The caravan continued on into in the night. True to Karga's word, they lost light fast. Zakia wished they would have made it closer to town, but supposed some distance between the Imperials and them wasn't a bad thing to have. Karga's help built a small fire, and one ventured off into the night only to return with a large slab of meat. Zakia wasn't keen on the unknown product, but sustenance was necessary for their trip.

Battle stories were not told around this campfire. Everyone sat silently, pretending to be relaxed. Each separate faction formed their own half-circle. Cara sat at the far end of theirs, then Kuii, the Child, Zakia, and Din. Karga formed the end of his group, though he sat a mere foot from the Mandalorian. Kuiil fed the Child, who squeaked happily upon each delivery. Zakia kept her eyes on the mangy-looking hunters across the fire, even when she lifted bites of meat to her mouth.

"Looks like the little bugger's a carnivore." Greef said, pointing a shaky finger at the Child. "Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of high-falutin' menagerie."

Zakia rolled her eyes, peering around Mando's body to look at their old boss. "You never did like silence, Karga."

Din remained focused on the fire, though Zakia knew his eyes were following every movement in the group. "Let's go over the plan again."

Karga sighed, and Zakia leaned back to prop herself onto her elbows.

"We both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And one of you kills him."

Zakia raised a brow, doing her best impression of a rabid lothcat while trying to gnaw on the tough meat they roasted. "And there's no reinforcements? Even if I'm stationed a couple hundred meters away, when he goes down..."

"They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof! They'll all scatter." Greef sounded unconcerned, but the Mandalorian was not convinced.

"What if they stick around?" Zakia asked, adjusting the rifle as it lay next to her.

"They won't"

"That's not good enough." Even modulated, his tone was clear.

"If- for argument's sake- a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock-trooper will cut down anyone who bucks. And I don't recall many getting past your partner in the past."

Finishing her piece of tough meat, Zakia reclined on the small bedroll until her back was lying in the dirt. She gazed up at the starless sky, watching as pale streaks of gray clouds passed over. Din continued to drill Karga on their plan. He assured the Mandalorian there would be no more than four guards - a fire team- with the Client.

Zakia blinked lazily, and tried to keep her body from trembling with anticipation. Her and Mando had yet to work out the precise details, but she was confident her partner would want her far away from the Imps. It would be easy to find a building with a clear shot into the Imperial hideout, but the hard part was remaining undetected. If Karga was right, the job would be simple. If he was wrong however, they were in for a long day.

Eyes searching for Din's familiar figure, Zakia tugged on his cloak so the others wouldn't notice. He shifted in a way that acknowledged her prod for attention.

"You okay?"

The helmet falling forward in the front was her only answer, and Zakia allowed her hand to remain on his cloak as she turned to the sky. The few clouds illuminated by Nevarro's dull moon were nothing more than wisps, so Zakia froze upon spotting an opaque shape move across her field of vision. She lifted her head sharply, trying to follow the shape. Blue eyes tracked across the darkness, and faintly picked up on another shape. This one was larger, and was flying from behind the other group towards the fire. Zakia thought it to be scavenger birds at first, but squinted when the shap seemed to pick up speed as it neared the group. Karga was about the reach the roasting hunk of meat when she called out.

"Greef, get down!" Zakia was just in time, as the beast swung down to steal the meat.

It was incredibly large, and the force of its pass knocked Greef from his feet. The Mandalorian ducked to the side, arm falling to the far side of Zakia's body. A screech prompted him to stay there, chestplate rhythmically ramming into Zakia's back until she elbowed him.

"We have to move, there's- more!" Zakia pushed against his cuirass, leaping to her feet as Cara began firing out shots from an automatic blaster. The Mandalorian and his partner wasted no time drawing their own weapons. Zakia slapped the button to close the Child's pram, allowing Mando and Kuiil to cover her as she turned her back.

It was far too dark to make sense of anything between the dust and darkness. The group's movements were lit only by the light of their fire and their blasters. Zakia had just got her bearings when Kuiil's shouts echoed across the flat plains.

"No, let go of her! Drop her now!" They were shouts of anguish, and Zakia was horrified to see the beasts lifting one of their Bluurg off the ground.

The group's blasts began to focus in on the offending creature, but it was long gone before they had a chance. A brief bout of silence followed, and Zakia offhandedly glanced to ensure the Child was safe.

SCREEECH.

Something heavy impacted Zakia's back with enough force to toss her to the ground. Her blaster tumbled from her hand, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her exposed neck to protect it. More yelling and firing reached her ears, but she was glued to the rocky ground. Another body was tossed down next to her, and Zakia was battered with gusts of wind that whipped gravel into her face. Some part of her fuzzy brain recognized the clanking of Din's armor, and then the familiar feeling of his hand on her back. There was a blast of heat above her head, and Zakia tightened the arms protecting her neck.

"Zakia." The Mandalorian's voice was measured. Calm, but urgency pressed into his tone.

He had seen Zakia get knocked down. When one of Karga's hunters was swiped from safety, his legs took her feet from the ground as the beast flew away. Protecting herself was the best option at that point- these creatures were clearly smart.

"Is it over?" She still had her arms locked around her neck, and Din's helmet fell forward in relief.

"Yes. They're gone. You just got knocked down when one took off. You're fine." The Mandalorian wrapped his hands around her arms and hauled her up, allowing her a moment to get her feet back.

"Shit." She cursed, "I saw them coming, I just didn't know what they were." Her body moved almost thoughtlessly to the Child's cradle, where she pressed the lid release. Zakia's hands lifted the baby, holding him tightly to her chest. "It's alright, kiddo."

Mando took stock of the remaining group. Cara was lowering her blaster, and Kuiil looked rather distraught. But it was a groaning from his left that caught Din's attention. Karga was on the ground, clutching at his forearm. Zakia followed his gaze, tongue pressing against her teeth as they all approached.

Kuiil was the first one there, followed by Cara. Din and Zakia approached after, and the blonde shook her head as she looked into the corner of his visor. Greef's arm had four gashes in it, infection sizzling outwards like hot grease.

"Poison." Zakia set her jaw, kneeling beside Kuiil.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine." Karga protested their doting until Zakia pressed on a tender spot. "Ow!"

"Hold still." Cara ordered. "They got you good"

Zakia let Cara take over the care, unsure of how to proceed. She had bandaged Din up more times than she could count, but poison was something she had never experienced. The shock-trooper fumbled in her belt, withdrawing a small med pack with a long needle. She gave Karga the first infusion, eliciting a wheeze from the injured party.

"How bad?" The Mandalorian asked, leering over Cara's shoulder.

"Bad." Cara confirmed. "The poison is spreading fast."

Greef squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily in measured bouts to maintain his composure. "So… this is how it happens?"

Cara, ever the lifesaver in these situations, looked at the Guild agent. "Don't be so dramatic." She looked to the other hunters. "I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?"

A chorus of shaking heads later, the air grew tense. Zakia shifted uncomfortably, hands pawing aimlessly at the Child's robes. Normally a stoic figure, she found herself perturbed at Karga's situation. As if sensing her discomfort, the baby in her arms shifted, wiggling wildly in an attempt to leave her arms.

"Hold on." Zakia leaned down to allow the Child to stand on the ground. Knowing he had a tendency to hover within reach of the Mandalorian, she let her eyes wander back to Cara.

"It's still spreading. This isn't working." Cara held the med scanner in one hand, and paused when the now-free Child approached her side. She turned to Kuiil. "Get this thing outta here."

The Child extended a hand then, catching the attention of everyone surrounding Greef's supine form. Kuiil urged them to leave him be, and everyone watched warily as the tiny green creature stretched towards Greef.

"He's trying to eat me." Karga whined. Zakia snorted, nudging Mando in a weak attempt at lightening the mood.

More than a few seconds passed before anything changed. The Child laid his hand on Greef's arm and closed his eyes. Zakia could see the concentration on his tiny face, and gripped the crook of Din's elbow when their ex-boss's skin began to knit itself back together. The poisoned flesh reverted back to smooth skin from its blistered state, and even Greef seemed surprised as his pain slipped away.

The baby shook with the effort, eventually falling backwards onto his bottom. Zakia hustled towards him automatically, sweeping his exhausted form from the dirt. No one spoke, only stared at the unmarred flesh of Karga's arm. The shock was clear, and the uncertainty surrounding the tiny quarry skyrocketed.

Zakia only focused her wide eyes on the baby in her arms, whispering a silent prayer for the hours to come.

#din djarin x oc #din djarin #din x oc #din #star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorian #grogu #baby yoda #greef karga #kuiil #cara dune #moff gideon

3 notes · View notes