#and I guess that new pen name won’t get started until the fall now

[dickbaggins]

just once I’d like to be able to plan moving and not be unceremoniously dumped out. like the choice to move being because of my own actions and agency

[talesfromasnarkylisa]

Lacey: Chapter 8

Lacy’s Diaries: August 5th, 2023

Dear Diary, 

It’s been a quiet week so far. Mostly.

I DM’d a guy yesterday named Archie - erm, Archer J. I’ve been into him for a while now, but normally I’d be too shy to even comment on any of his stuff. That is, until last morning. Dina gave me a tactic she always uses to become more confident in front of her crushes. Practice starting a conversation directed to a picture of them and treat them like a regular person. It seems to have worked for me. 

Today, I met up with Dina and Otto at a café. While Otto ordered a cappuccino, Dina and I ordered medium black coffee with sugar. Dina and I have always had similar tastes in drinks, weirdly enough.

“Any news about the editor application?” asked Dina.

“I applied a few days ago,” I answered. “They won’t get back to anyone until next week.”

“Ah,” Dina sipped her coffee. “Anyhow, this tastes way too bitter!”

Otto smirked. 

“Then add some more sugar,” he snarked.

“I can’t do that,” stated Dina. “I’m trying to get into a cheerleading squad, and they only want the healthiest and most athletic bodies.”

“I never thought cheerleading could be so hard,” Otto fingered his light striped pink and blue flag pin.

“Food’s not the hardest part, dude,” said Dina.

Otto went to go to the washroom, so Dina and I had some girl talk.

“How was it talking to Archer?” Dina wondered.

“Amazing,” I responded. “He’s such a sweet guy. Very helpful, too. Not to mention sophisticated and hilarious at the same time.”

“That’s great!” Dina grinned.

Dina continued suffering through her bitter drink. She was very much happy once it was done.

“Wanna know what I like most about him?”

“Go ahead, bestie!” Dina washed her mouth out with water.

“Okay,” I narrated, “so there was this girl - Mira - who was dying of cancer. She always wanted to go to Universal, but she and her family never had enough money to.”

Dina licked her lip.

“Go on,” she stated.

“Archer had a stream that was supposed to raise money for an upgraded Wifi plan.” I told her. “But when he found out about Mira, he used some of that money to help her go to Universal before she died instead.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Dina exclaimed.

“Yeah,” I smiled.

August 7th, 2023

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, Dr. Green told me to think of a recent accomplishment I’ve made for a diary entry. Could be large, small, anything I’ve succeeded at during this month.

Guess what? I got into the Music Refined editor team! Well, sort of. They accepted me into their ranks as a beta reader according to their recent update article. I basically have to read through submissions and decide whether they should even go to the real editors or not. I’m also not allowed to leave private notes on any drafts.

It doesn’t sound like much, but at least I’m getting somewhere. Plus, Archie’s a beta reader as well. 

My first assignment was to go over a piece about Machine Gun Kelly’s fall from grace. It was penned by someone named Oscar Winters.

Here’s a little snippet of the draft.

Machine Gun Kelly is a famous musician known for both reviving pop-punk and his forays into hip-hop. That being said, his reputation has also been tarnished by various factors. While he had the potential to become one of punk’s forefront rockstars, his underhanded tactics have caused more harm than good to his career.

MGK started his music career as a rapper in the late 2000s with a few extended plays. After being signed onto Interscope Records, he released his first album Lace Up in 2002 to negative reviews. His next two albums - General Admission and Bloom - stayed firmly in pop-rap territory.

The musician leaned more into rock in his subsequent albums. Hotel Diablo of 2018 touched on it, whereas the later Tickets To My Downfall completely eschewed hip-hop in favour of pop-punk. 

Perhaps what MGK is most known for, though, is his many, MANY feuds with rappers. These include big names like Eminem as well as smaller ones such as NF. In addition, MGK has allegedly fondled underage boys.

Good God, were there so many factual errors. This Oscar dude got so many dates wrong. I didn’t know 2002 was at the end of the 2000s! The math wasn’t mathing, the NF feud never happened, and MGK was put on blast for being creepy with underage girls. Also, why was “many” randomly capitalized?

I wanted to pass up this article. But I felt somewhat hesitant to do so. Ignoring the glaringly obvious misinformation, the piece wasn’t that bad. The formatting was decent, and there weren’t any spelling mistakes. This was also out-of-character for Oscar. On the other hand, I had no idea how to make this mixed bag appeal to the editors.

So I decided to DM Archie for advice. Sure, he’s only been a beta reader for Music Refined as long as I have. However, he’s far more popular than I. If anyone should know about the secrets to good connections and publicity, it’s him.

Archie told me that the writeup, while flawed, was salvageable. He encouraged me to pass it on to the higher-ranked editors - if I could sneak in a few edits. 

I pointed out to him it was against policy as we were not official editors. He then responded that I could probably get away with it, as all drafts were submitted as PDFs anyways. Not to mention they made exceptions if we were really good. Archie was right. But I also had several other drafts to go through. Since apparently the editors were easier on Archie, he offered to help edit the draft. I accepted it.

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1487871692-lacey-chapter-8)

[artzee-bee]

Now and for eternity| Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer ( netflix)

Request:” Can you write an imagine where Lucifer’s wife is like this well known social light that owns her own luxury fashion brand and she starts receiving gifts from an obsessed secret admirer and Lucifer is unknowingly being targeted by the secret admirer who is trying to kill Lucifer in order to get the reader and Lucifer thinks it’s his father trying to ‘strike’ him down for some unknown reason until Chloe point out someone that correlates with the readers secret admirer and Lucifer’s attacker. Feeling some type away about it Lucifer decides to taunt the secret admirer by upping the PDA and romantic gestures getting a kick out in it much to Chloe’s dismay. And once the secret admirer is caught Lucifer rubs it in their face that the reader is his for now and all of eternity before showing the secret admirer his true face. ”

Genre: fluff? I guess

Warnings:death threats, stalking, attempted murder

~~~

It wasn’t unusual to receive gifts and flowers at your office. After all, with the job you worked and the wealthy people you collaborated with, the presents simply represented one of the many perks of being a designer. Except, one friday morning, while examining a particularly beautiful bouquet of pink lilies, you noticed the little card that came with it

“I know they are some of your favorite - <3 “

Usually, work associates would leave a name. Some way for you to know that they value your work and are thinking of you (and maybe to flatter you into giving them a discount), but there was no name on this card, just a tiny heart in a glittery, pink gel pen. Pink lilies were, indeed, your favorite.

You brought the flowers home and told your husband, Lucifer, all about the mysterious gift. You had talked to your secretary and even she didn’t know where the flowers came from, since no one came to drop off lilies that morning. You presumed the sender must have simply forgotten to sign the card, and perhaps your secretary had forgotten about them, with the busy morning she’d had. You and Lucifer had a laugh, imagining the shy and anxious intern that was probably assigned the job, and the scolding they’ll get when their boss finds out about their mistake.

The next morning, a box of your favorite chocolates were waiting for you on your desk. There wasn’t any note, just the same heart, written in the same glitter pen. You dismissed it as a weird coincidence and moved on to working on your designs.

Without you knowing, this also happened to be the first time Lucifer would be faced with a very interesting note. As he was getting ready to leave the police station, he noticed a piece of yellow paper, stuck to his windshield

“Back off of Y/N. Consider this your first and last warning” no signature. Anyone in Lucifer’s place would have lost their shit, but he paid it no mind. He was the devil after all! If anyone wants to take his precious Y/N away from him, well, they can try. It would make things all the more fun. He folded the paper and stuffed it in his pocket before heading home.

The couple shared Y/N’s chocolates that night, talking about who this person might be. Lucifer wasn’t as amused as he had been the night before, if anything he was rather concerned but he didn’t want to say anything about the note to Y/N, because she would freak out. 

Nothing really happened for the next week. Anonymous gifts stopped showing up at Y/N’s office, Lucifer didn’t get any more notes and things were falling back in their place, until the day right after Y/N’s latest photoshoot went public and viral. It was all to promote her upcoming clothing line. As soon as she walked into the office the next day, she spotted a red, velvet box, the size of a notebook, in the middle of her desk. On top of it, a note written in the same glittery pink as the other gifts

“Congratulations on your new line. Those photos are gorgeous - J.P. <3”

Inside the box was a gorgeous diamond necklace, looking like it was worth millions. If you hadn’t been concerned about the sudden apparition of all these gifts so far, you sure were now. You immediately called your husband to tell him about the mysterious jewelry, but he didn’t pick up. Unbeknown to you, he was busy ranting to detective Decker.

“I mean, not to be dramatic, detective, but the situation does feel like it’s spiralling out of control. Death threats, sure, those come every other weekend, kind of like fanmail, y’know? But actual gun shots fired at my head, well, that’s where I draw the line.” he ended with a giggle. Lucifer was leaning on Decker’s desk as she was examining the bullet casings Lucifer had brought her from his apparent ‘attempted assasination’

“Where did this happen again?” she said, not taking her eyes off of her work

“Right by that coffee shop ms. Lopez always talks about. I may have lost a bet to her the other day and have to get her coffee for the rest of the week, so I was just exiting the shop when a masked man in a dark blue BMW zoomed by, pointing his gun at me and shooting blindly. I mean, that is the most basic attemp at murder I have ever witnessed. At least make it interesting!”

“Lucifer, if someone is out for your life, it’s serious business”

“Why would it be? It’s not like I can actually die, detective! Plus, it’s probably not that deep anyways. Just, dear old dad coming after me again for no particular reason. Very characteristic of him.”

“ You’re getting ahead of yourself. Whoever sent this wants you and Y/N apart, why would your dad want that?”

“Because he’s a prick who disagrees with everything and anything that makes me happy?” Lucifer concludes with an innocent smile “And, of course, Y/N being moral, our marriage goes against the heavenly rules of the almighty, so he’s trying to break us apart, but worry not detective! Me and Y/N are stronger and more in love than ever. My father will simply have to accept that. Nothing will break us apart” he said, puffing his chest out with confidence

“That’s good to hear Lucifer, but I still think we should stay open to different possibilities”

“Oh, come on detective, that would be a waste of our time. I know my father better than anyone, believe me when I tell you this is his hand and no one else's. Case closed! Now, let’s move to the next one! Chop chop detective, murders won’t solve themselves!” Lucifer said, marching out of the precinct. Chloe rolled her eyes at her partner, before hiding the bullets and the note in her desk and going after him.

Although it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but notice how much more touchy Lucifer had been with you, ever since the necklace incident. He needed to touch you at all times: when you were out for coffee, at lunch, at the station, in your office, in Lux. His hand was always either around your waist or tangled in yours. You felt sort of bad, thinking he must be a little insecure with this secret admirer being after you at all times, but you wanted him to know that you loved him more than anything and that no matter what, you would never leave him for a faceless man, no matter how many pearls and chocolates he bribes you with. And so, you decided to play along with him, giving him as much attention as you could. Your visits at the station almost doubled, you always cleared your schedule to make time for him and even decided to start work later in  the day than usual, so you could spend more time with him in the morning. 

One afternoon, as you were enjoying your time with Decker and Lucifer during their lunch time, one of the notes from your secret admirer slipped out of your pocket. You didn’t realise it until Chloe picked it up

“Oh, I was going to throw that out”

“Where’s this from?” she asked, studying the note

“Just one of this week's gifts” you confessed awkwardly. Without a second thought, the detective reached for her drawer, pulling out another note from inside and inspecting them side by side. Eventually, she placed them both in front of Lucifer

“Notice something interesting about the writing?”

“They are remarkably similar…”

“More like identical”

“What is that?” you asked, looking at the unknown note. Your heart sank as you read it

“I’ll explain everything at home dear, I swear” Lucifer said

“You’ve received death threats because of me?”

“I’ll tell you everything at home, I promise”

“You have initials…” Decker noticed

“Yeah, ever since my photoshoot, they’re present on every package”

“What floor is your office on again?”

“5th, why?”

“How can someone enter your office every morning without anyone, not even your secretary noticing, and exit just as mysteriously?” “Unless he found a different way in” Lucifer replied

“My window” you realise “You can step out directly onto the emergency staircase from there”

“He knew when to sneak in without being seen, so he must have known your schedule like the back of his hand. Who could know?”

“The only people who know it are my secretary and Lucifer”

“A stalker?” your husband suggested

“Maybe” Decker turned quickly to her computer “I’m going to check any business owners around that neighbourhood who could have had a close shot of when you enter and exit your studio, see if any initially match the ones on the notes. We’ll go from there” 

You thanked Chloe for the help and went home with Lucifer, who spent the entire car ride explaining the note to you and the events of the previous days. You were angry at him for keeping all of it away from you, but ultimately happy that he was safe. You spent the night drinking wine and rewatching all of your comfort movies, to calm your nerves.

You decided to try working from home for the next couple of days, too scared by the idea of a stranger following your every move. It was a challenging process but Lucifer did his best in helping you get accustomed to this new routine. His homemade meals could not compare to anything you would eat while in a meeting with your business associates. Plus, the company was much more delightful.

Chloe texted you, almost a week later, to come down to the station as quickly as possible. They had found the guy. You hopped into your car and when you finally arrived, Lucifer was waiting for you outside

“They found him?” 

“Yes dear, they did”

“How?”

“Well, as it turns out he lived in the apartment building next door. His living room window had a great view of everything happening in your office. We’ve found a week’s worth of gifts he was planning to deliver. It’s him for sure” 

“Thank you” you whispered before collapsing into Lucifer’s arms and hugging him tight

“It’s alright lovely. It’s over now. Let’s go see how the detective is handling it. I think they’re in the interrogation room now.”

From behind the glass, you watched the man that threatened your marriage and your husband's life, confess to everything. Admit to stalking you, in order to learn your schedule. Break into your office and open fire on Lucifer. More than enough to get him behind bars for a long time. Decker and Lucifer got up and were ready to leave, but your husband requested a couple of minutes alone with the man. The detective agreed, cautioning him to not do something stupid, before leaving them alone. Lucifer turned on his heels to face the man in handcuffs and you could instantly tell he was furious

“Truly an honorable try. Y/N is one of a kind, you were right about that, the only detail you missed is that, you see, she’s taken. By me” the mischievous smile on his face let you know that he was up to no good “Our bond is indestructible and it’s really laughable to think that you’ve risked so much to tear us apart when you didn’t stand a chance to begin with” Lucifer leaned over the table, now his back was facing you “Me and Y/N are, and forever will be, together. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change that. She is mine and I am hers, now and for eternity” as his little speech came to an end, you noticed the man in handcuffs go pale with terror. He began shaking in his chair, screaming incoherently about the devil. Even tho you hadn’t see what your husband did, you could tell by the man’s reaction. You laughed to yourself, not even mad that Lucifer had used his devil face against this man. You would have done the same if you had the option.

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 1] [Female Reader]

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

This was supposed to be a lengthy oneshot, but I wanna have it out as I write, so... here's Part 1! Just so you know, it's futa!Yves, but I won't really mention it until at least Part 3.

Also, this is entirely female reader!

Can be found on AFF and AO3!

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

Everyone knows of Ha Sooyoung.

Most know her by her preferred name Yves, but it is the same either way—the people still have her deeply imprinted in the recesses of their minds. After all, who doesn't know of the campus fuckgirl that only goes for girls?

You are no exception to having knowledge of Sooyoung. After all, she is your seatmate for every class you had, and while she is regularly absent, she is a regular hindrance when present. During lectures, she likes to fling paper balls at unsuspecting classmates, flirt with any female classmate or TA, or play games on her mobile phone loudly. The fact that she is your seatmate only makes it worse, considering she has her feet on the table most of the time.

Now you have to tutor her. The bane of your existence. Ha Sooyoung. Yves. Tutor. Tutor her.

Your look of disbelief meeting your professor's determined gaze melts into a sigh of resignation. You know that no amount of whining or pouting would result in a win for you—Yves had the poorest performance, barely scraping through any of her tests, whereas you aced every test given during your course of study. It would only be natural for you to be tutoring her.

Yves flashes a smirk and wink from the front row of the lecture theatre, giving you a two-fingered salute as the professor leaves.

"Hey, babygirl. Guess you're my new tutor."

"Hi." You cannot help but let bitterness seep into your tone, but you bite down on the bullets you wish to fire.

"You don't seem that happy."

"No, but it's fine. Let's get down to business."

"Uh-uh, not today. I've got a party to get to. How about this, give me your phone."

You hesitantly pass her your phone, and she enters her number in.

"Call me." She flashes another smirk and a wink, pushing her hair back. The phone in your hand displays 'yves 💘'.

-----

When you call Yves, you hear more of the chatter in the background than her voice. However, she is still audible, and that is all you need.

"Hello?"

"Sooyoung. I'll tutor you beginning tomorrow."

"Oh, it's you, babygirl. Sure, see you after class?"

Huh. That was easy.

"Good, please bring along the Calculus textbook—"

Indistinct chatter rings across the line, and you vaguely hear the crowd chanting "Drink! Drink! Drink!" before Yves's voice cuts through the line again.

"Sorry, babygirl, I've got to jet. I ain't gonna win this game of beer pong talkin' to you. See you tomorrow."

Before you can even say anything, the call is cut. You take a deep breath, deciding to let it go. Maybe this would be the only time. After all, innocent until proven guilty, right?

With a long exhale, you throw yourself back into whatever work you were doing.

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

When Yves appears after class, she staggers into the classroom, clutching her head.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have drank that much last night."

She crashes on the chair next to you, immediately folding her arms on the table, resting her head on it. Her eyes open blearily when you request for her to take her Calculus textbook out.

"I didn't bring it."

You halt, frustration beginning to build.

"I thought I told you to bring it."

"Well, babygirl, I forgot. Looks like we can't do this today then." Yves rises, staggering towards the door. Repeated calls of her name fall on her deaf ears as she rounds the corner and disappears.

You take a deep breath. Tomorrow.

-----

[You sent a message:]

Yves

Tomorrow, after class.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Hey babygirl

I've got a party tomorrow.

[You sent a message:]

You're ditching your grades for a party?

A party in the afternoon?

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Come on, live a little, it's fun to cut loose!

Yeah, I need to go set it up.

Wanna come?

[You sent a message:]

I'd rather spend my time productively, thank you. I expect to see you after class. The same place.

-----

Yves is absent again from class. Naturally, she is absent from the tutoring session. Every call you make to her goes unanswered throughout the afternoon.

You hate this. It wasn't as if tutoring her was a choice you made—the professor shunted the task to you, even after all your protests and reasoning for why you shouldn't take the job. The impression that she gives off already isn't anything good, and the fact that she actively is wasting your time only pisses you off even more.

The fact that Yves is your seatmate only adds to the frustration. Her shoes are all up in your face, the sounds of her games in your ears, her paper balls all over your table. Everything she did just pissed you off.

When you reach home, you immediately drop a call to Yves. Three rings of the phone is all it takes before she picks up the phone.

"Hey babygirl."

"Don't babygirl me. Where were you this afternoon?"

"I told you, I had a party."

"So you choose to waste my time?"

"Sorry, babe." The lack of sincerity is evident in her voice. "This is clearly more fun."

"You prioritize fun over your grades? Are you trying to fail?"

"Yo, yo, chill, chill! Cut me some slack! Take it easy. I've got time!"

"The final exams are less than half a year away."

"Precisely." Yves's smirk can be heard through the phone. "I have time."

"I don't. Stop wasting my time. Come tomorrow."

"Oh, fiery. Just my type." Yves chuckles, before she pisses you off even further. "I'll see you, just not tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"I'll be busy nursing my hangover. Ciao." The call is cut.

You growl in frustration, squeezing the pen in your hand tightly. How easily she dismisses you only serves to fuel your anger. How could someone give no shits about their future?

Yves was basically the opposite of what you stood for. To you, school was an obligation—something necessary in order to move forward and succeed. This meant that people had to possess the responsibility to keep to this commitment so they could succeed in life. The future is uncertain, so you should make every effort to ensure that you can forge a path that is as certain as it can be.

Yves, however, treated school like a waste of time. To be out having fun mattered more—life and the future is uncertain, so if she could afford the time to live in the moment, then she would take the time to. Why pressure oneself to engineer perfection when imperfection is how the world runs?

This was a constant argument between the both of you when Yves was present in school. On the days she came, you had to fight to pay attention to your professor since the both of you would argue. You hated having to defend your point of view against her, since she was deeply set in her contrasting view. You hate how carefree she is. How is it that someone can live without worrying that much?

When you let your vision focus, you take a deep breath and go back to your work.

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

You are ten minutes early for class. Chatter fills the classroom as per usual. When you reach your seat, your ears perk up at a familiar name.

"... you hear Yves took her home last night?"

"... sex … fucked her the whole night … best time of her life …"

You scowl. Even when she wasn't present, you had to hear about her, and even worse, her womanizing and hedonistic lifestyle. Who cares about her?

"Good morning, babygirl."

The bane of your existence appears before your very eyes, leaning over your desk with her signature smirk. You give her a glare, but not before you fail to resist checking her out.

Yes, she is admittedly hot. But insufferable. But hot. Facts are facts.

Her hair slicked back, check. Leather jacket, check. Fishnets and crop top fitting her… appealing chest, check. Tight pants that fit her figure, check. Fuck, she looks so good.

"My eyes are up here." Yves pushes your head up to meet her gaze with a finger. The smug smirk on her face makes you want to slap it off her. "If you want me, all you have to do is ask."

"Why're you here?"

"Someone who places such importance in school doesn't want her seatmate present? I'm hurt, babe."

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You shift away from her touch, and Yves grins.

"I came to see you, my favourite tutor. You're interesting."

"Put that interest in your studies."

"No, I don't think I will, not when you're this pretty."

You try to fight the blush that appears on your face, but it seems that you fail—Yves's cocky grin only gets bigger when she reclines in her chair, resting her feet on the table.

This is your second year with Yves as a seatmate. The girl next to you somehow managed to scrape past first year, and now here she is, staring at you with an amused smirk, annoying you just as she had since Day 1.

"Y'know, I mean it when I say you're pretty."

"Thank you." You grit your teeth, though how red your face remains betrays your hidden feelings. After all, girls don't really compliment you that often, let alone a hot one like Yves is.

"Mm, you're welcome." Yves smiles, resting her head on her chair. "I'll depend on your tutoring, babygirl. Goodnight."

"You're going to sleep?"

"Yep. I'll just listen attentively to you later, cutie."

"I would prefer it if you paid attention now."

"What, and stare at the prof's ugly mug? Why would I do that when I can take the time to stare at your beautiful face instead?"

"Fuck off."

"Ooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Yves's grin shows how little offense she takes at your rebuttal. "I like you, baby."

You decide to ignore Yves. Ignore how she easily infuriates you. Ignore how hot she is. Ignore the compliments that make heat rise from your cheeks and neck.

Insufferable.

-----

Yves takes a long time to rise from her slumber. You try to shake her, but Yves remains steadfastly asleep on her chair.

"Yves. Wake up."

"Mmnnngggh."

"Wake up, wake up."

"Five more minutes."

"No." You heave a sigh. "Wake. Up."

"Fine, fine, babygirl. You're such a killjoy."

"Do not 'babygirl' me. Let's start."

You pull out your Calculus textbook. Yves halfheartedly pulls hers out as well, and you flip both books to a summary exercise.

"Do these. I need to know your current ability."

"Only because you're pretty, babygirl." Yves picks up her pen, beginning to work on the questions.

-----

"How are you getting all these wrong?"

Your tutee shrugs, leaning back on her chair. "Who cares?"

"I do! You're going to fail."

"Aw babygirl, you do care about me."

"Shut the fuck up. There's so much work I need to do with you."

"Meh, whatever." Yves stretches in her chair, leaning back to close her eyes. "Do your magic, tutor. Teach me."

"Fine. Let's begin."

-----

Both you and Yves part ways at the gate of the campus. After a tense session involving multiple arguments when Yves used more of her phone than to attempt learning anything you were teaching, or when she started to look up girls on Tinder, you gave up and halted the session.

"See you soon, babygirl."

"Fuck you."

"Anytime, babe. You just have to ask."

"Fuck off."

"Calm down. It's not like we don't have time."

"We don't."

"Not with that attitude."

"Fuck your attitude."

Yves only grins when she hears your reply.

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

Another tutoring session, another Yves absence. This time, when you call her, you're met with the obscene sounds of Yves engaging in sexual intercourse.

"Hey babygirl."

"Yves. Where are—huh?"

Wet smacks echo loudly through the speaker on your phone. Someone moans on the other side. Regular thumps ring through your speakers.

"I'm a little busy now, baby."

"Wha—what the fuck?"

"As you can hear, I'm busy fucking someone. Bye."

The dial tone that enters your ears almost makes you smash your phone on the table to pieces. You instead settle on smashing your fist against the table instead.

This is the last straw.

-----

The next time you see Yves, you pin her against the wall. Taken by surprise, Yves finds herself in a position she usually puts others into. Smirking, she relents.

"Didn't take you to be so forward."

"This is the last fucking time I'm taking your shit. I've had it with your constant excuses about parties, or whatever. Now, you choose to go fuck some bitch even when you know you have stuff to do. I'm fucking done. I quit."

"Come on, don't be like that, baby." Yves's cocky grin widens. "Maybe I need some more motivation."

"If having your life planned out isn't motivating enough, nothing will work."

"Oh, but I had this wonderful idea…"

You resist taking the bait, but having Yves pinned against the wall fucks with your judgement.

"What?"

Today, Yves is clad in all black leather. Whatever she's wearing doesn't catch your eye—the fact that your face is so close to Yves's flusters you. The same slicked back hair, scarlet lipstick across her kissable lips, a cocky glint in her eye, catching your gaze before traveling down to your lips, then below…

"I've seen the way you look at me, babygirl. You say you hate me, but all I see in your eyes is lust right now. You want me so bad, don't you?"

"Sh-shut the fuck up." You curse at the slight stutter.

"So how about this? I'll be the best student you'll ever have, and if I ace the exams at the end of the year… hmm."

Yves lets her voice trail off, knowing she has your full attention.

"What the fuck do you want?'

"If I ace the exams, I get to fuck you."

You cannot believe your ears.

"What?"

"I said what I said. I'll be the best student you'll have. I'll ace the exams. And when I do, you'll sleep with me."

"Why the fuck would I say yes to that?"

In an instant, Yves flips you around. Your back is now against the wall, your arms held against your will, held down by Yves's grip. Yves leans in.

"Because you think I'm hot."

You subconsciously lean in when you feel her hot breath on your lips, and Yves leans in as well. Something soft presses against your lips. Instantly, she is off you, smirking.

"See you around babygirl. Don't think about me too much."

So you agree.

[cinnamonest]

How do you think Albedo would react if he found out creator!darling had some sort of fwb relationship with someone in monstat when he went through their journal.

I like to think it doesn't happen on the initial night he reads poor creator's journal. That night, he was just looking for answers -- things about him, desperate to have a reason, a justification to his anger. So he stuck to the earlier parts, the parts that detailed her life with him before abandoning him.

Of course, after a few days or weeks settled into their... new lifestyle, he remembers the journal, now tucked away somewhere with other belongings... and gets a bit curious again. Ends up the same way he was then, sitting on the floor late at night, carefully tracing over each and every word. Perhaps some would find such a thing boring, but for him, every word she's written is precious, he runs his fingers over the slightest of indents where the pen pressed to paper.

To say stumbling upon her records of the affair makes him upset would be an understatement. He feels physically ill, nauseous, finds his hands gripping the sides of the book so harshly his hands tremble. It's made so much worse because it's progressive -- it's not just a blatant entry that says "Oh I fucked this guy," no, it's dread that starts slowly in his stomach as he first reads an entry about having met someone -- that alone isn't a lot. She writes about meeting plenty of people, and although each one makes him grind his teeth a little bit, it doesn't start to get under his skin until he sees the same name twice. It's like walking around in the dark, knowing something is chasing you and will jump out at you any moment, a slow and inevitable progression as the name comes up again and again, more and more in a positive way with each entry. He knows where it's headed, it becomes obvious how it's progressing, slowly unfolding events that he knows he can't do anything about, what's going to happen, and eventually he finally comes across that one final entry.

He's glad it's not too descriptive. If you had detailed the acts, he doesn't think he'd be able to handle it. Part of him wants to just slam the thing shut and never look at it again, but the other part feels a compulsion to take in every word. It goes from a nauseous feeling, dread and hurt, to just pure anger. Blood boiling. At this other guy, at you. At this point, he's already reached the mental stage where he no longer blames himself for anything that happened -- it's an arrogance, a narcissism that would surprise most, but you always saw it, deep down, that even when he would apologize and be so meek, you could tell he never truly believed it. He can never be wrong. Can never accept blame for anything. That's why everything that happened was your fault -- now, including this.

At the same time, he's too proud to directly come to you about it. Some mix of pride and bitterness. But that doesn't stop you from immediately knowing something is wrong, because oh boy does he glare. He gets unusually cold, even quieter than normal. You have to initiate every exchange, he won't even look at you unless you speak first, and even then he just glares with narrowed eyes, gives you one-word responses. He's always had a kinda immature, bitter stubbornness where he wants you to know he's mad, but won't tell you why, leaves you guessing and shrinking back under the intense negative atmosphere be created with silence and narrowed eyes. And you know you're falling for it, doing exactly what he wants, but you cave and you ask what the hell his damage is -- well, the "you" before might have, but you now use a much less inflammatory choice of words.

And even then, the utter petulant brat won't even tell you, just shrugs and says nothing. It's eyeroll-worthy.

After a day or so, he finally brings it up, indirectly. Asks you that hey, you know, you never did tell him about your travels... How about it? Fill him in. You entertain the request, but, of course, don't say anything about the relationship, you're not stupid.

Nonetheless, you immediately know what's up when he asks is that all? Not that he's disappointed -- he knew you wouldn't tell him immediately. Asking was just to see the look on your face, your eyes widening and sheepish shame on your features. So pretty.

Of course he *does* get frustrated if you can't provide him with a location as to where that person may be now. Unless you're lying to him... But even when he implements some pain, you still insist you don't know. Sigh. You really make him go above and beyond for you. He'll have to figure it out on his own. He's still very cold and bitter and pouty for several days, it's honestly childish. You might make the mistake of calling it such to his face, if you are feeling... particularly masochistic that day.

He's not emotionally ready for it so soon, but within a few days he'll ask, and if that doesn't work, force, for you to tell him what you two did together. Can't have there being anything you did with this other person that you haven't done with him.

He doesn't believe you at first when you say nothing, really. You insist over and over again, you didn't do anything special, it was just normal sex! He has trouble believing that, but only after a lot of prodding and specifics do you make your mistake, blurting out that it shouldn't be hard to believe -- not everyone is a fucking degenerate like you!

That, as you can imagine, goes over especially poorly...

[jaehyunfirstlove]

May I request a LDR au with idol!jaehyun where reader studies overseas and both of them attempt to bond with each other? Thank you❤️

Pairing: long distance bf!jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: ngl anon, i had no idea what 'LDR' stood for so i had to ask a friend (props to @jaehyunnie77 for educating me lol), anyway, hope you like it!

“I’m not ready to start dating again, hyung,” Jaehyun sighed, appreciative of Doyoung’s concern but still trying to overcome his heartbreak.

“It’s not dating! Just talking! I just think it would help if you had friends, outside of us, to talk to,” Doyoung clarified, patting Jaehyun on the back soothingly.

“Why does it sound like a setup, though?” Jaehyun smiled, and Doyoung just chuckled.

“Sorry, So-hyun has been bugging me to introduce you two. She thinks you’ll hit it off.”

Jaehyun chewed on his lip, clearly torn between polite propriety, and his own mixed emotions. “I really don’t know…”

“Listen,” Doyoung put a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder, “just exchange a couple of pleasantries so I can get So-hyun off my back, okay?”

Jaehyun laughed. “Sure, I can do that. Give her my number.”

---

You sighed inwardly when you got a message from a family friend, saying she wanted to introduce you to someone. You didn’t know why she would bother setting you up with someone while you were studying abroad, but you assumed she figured the long distance thing wouldn’t be a problem. Feeling pressured, you accepted, and sent off your first message.

Me: Hello, this is Y/N, So-hyun’s friend

You put your phone down, not expecting a response right away considering the time difference, but to your surprise your phone buzzed almost right away.

Jaehyun: Hello Y/N, it’s nice to meet you :)

It was just one line, and one emoji, but for whatever reason you were intrigued.

Me: Oh! I didn’t expect a response right away! Isn’t it the middle of the night there? Sorry to bother you

Jaehyun: No bother at all, I was up anyway

Jaehyun: How are you doing?

Me: I’m doing okay, just finished exams so I can rest for a little bit

Me: how are you? Why are you up so late? Sorry for all the questions

Jaehyun: I don’t mind the questions :)

Jaehyun: I’m glad you’re done exams, what are you studying?

Jaehyun: I’m doing okay as well, just tired from practice

Jaehyun: it’s also why I’m still awake, I always find it hard to sleep after a tough day

You felt bad for him, you knew how hard it was to function on very little sleep. So-hyun hadn’t told you much about him, just that he was an idol, but you didn’t follow the industry so you didn’t know much about it.

Me: Oh! That’s awful! You should try drinking chamomile tea, I find that always helps me relax enough to fall asleep

Me: and I’m studying architecture :)

Jaehyun: oh thanks I’ll try it! I’ll try anything at this point

Jaehyun: and architecture! Wow that’s cool! I’m a big fan of Gehry :)

You broke into a wide smile, Gehry was your favorite too and you planned to do your dissertation on him when you reached graduate school.

Me: aww that’s so cool! What’s your favorite building? Mine’s the EMP museum in Seattle :)

Jaehyun: hmm will have to look that one up! Mine’s the Guggenheim Bilbao, guess I’m boring like that lol

You smiled even wider to yourself, happy to be able to talk about one of your passions with someone outside of school, and not have to bore your uninterested friends to death with it. You were eager to continue the conversation but you looked at the time, realizing you were already running late for your next class.

Me: oops sorry i gotta go to class

Me: talk to you later?

Jaehyun: of course! Have fun :)

---

Although he was exhausted, Jaehyun felt there was no way he could sleep now. He’d only meant to exchange a text or two with you to satisfy Doyoung, but he ended up enjoying the conversation, staying up later than he had meant to. He lay in bed, wide awake, wondering how your class was going, if you’d had something to eat, if it was cold or warm where you were. When sleep still didn’t come, he got up and made chamomile tea just like you’d suggested.

---

“Y/N! Who on earth are you texting? Don’t you know we have a major project due soon?”

You typed faster, wanting to get your message out to Jaehyun even as your classmates gave you dirty looks. “Sorry, guys! Almost done.” You pressed send, putting your phone away and resolving not to check it until you were done with the group project. Except you were dying to know what Jaehyun’s response would be to your question. You bit your lip, drumming your pen on the table anxiously.

“Y/N,” your friend, Sara, leaned in and whispered, “who is this new boyfriend, anyway? When can we meet him?”

You smiled, loving the sound of the term ‘boyfriend’. “Sorry, Sara, you won’t meet him for a while. He’s out of the country.”

“Wow, a long distance relationship,” Sara whistled under her breath, “I don’t know how you do it.”

You had to admit, it wasn’t easy, but Jaehyun was such a sweet, easygoing person. You’d bonded pretty quickly after finding some shared interests, and then you shared pictures and followed each other on social media. Soon you were video calling, almost every day, your days beginning and ending with his dimpled smile on your phone screen. You never thought long distance relationships would work, but you found Jaehyun made it easy. Despite his busy schedule he always made time for you, even if he had to call you from the car on the way to a photo shoot, or backstage at a music show. You thought he would be an unwelcome distraction to your studies, but you found he was a very welcome distraction indeed.

When the group went quiet, you snuck out your phone to check Jaehyun’s response.

Jaehyun: sorry Y/N, I can’t get away right now for a visit, we’re preparing for the next comeback

Jaehyun: thanks for the invite though, please make sure to send pics :)

Your heart sank. You had invited Jaehyun for your graduation, and you were hoping beyond hope that he would be able to make it. You knew it would be a long shot, so you decided to try asking anyway, but now you regretted asking in the first place. Dejectedly, you typed your reply.

Me: oh it’s okay, I figured you probably wouldn’t be able to come

Me: just thought I’d ask anyway

Jaehyun: i’m really sorry

Me: it’s cool! :)

Even though you sent a happy face emoji, you were anything but happy. You didn’t want Jaehyun to see how disappointed you were, so you made sure to put on your happiest face when you video called him later that night.

---

You couldn’t stop fiddling with your cap, and there were loose threads on your gown that were driving you crazy. The worst part was that you couldn’t get a hold of Jaehyun before the ceremony, and you started to bite your lip anxiously, your nerves getting the best of you and no calm words from your boyfriend to help settle you. When they finally called your name you got up nervously to walk to the stage, and suddenly you heard a loud cheer. You knew it wasn’t anyone in your family, so you turned towards the sound, and your heart almost stopped in your chest when you saw Jaehyun in the crowd.

The pictures he’d sent, the videos you’d seen, the image of him on your phone screen did not do him justice. In person, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You almost dropped to your knees at the sight of him, but you felt your classmates pushing you towards the stage, clearly not wanting you to make the hellishly long ceremony even longer. On wobbly knees, suppressing a sob, you accepted your diploma, everyone thinking you were emotional because you were graduating, but really it was because you were seeing your long distance boyfriend for the first time.

When you walked off the stage you didn’t go back to your seat, you ran directly into his arms, and he laughed, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around.

“Congratulations, beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, before kissing you softly on the cheek.

“What are you doing here,” you sobbed, unable to hold back your tears as you clung to him.

“Well I recall getting an invitation?” he replied cheekily.

You smacked him lightly on the arm. “You said you couldn’t make it!”

He just laughed again, his eyes twinkling, “I wanted it to be a surprise. Sorry to fool you like that.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, and finally, you got to kiss him. He leaned in, and you got up on the tips of your toes, your lips meeting for the first time. It was everything you imagined it would be, gentle but firm, the want clearly conveyed.

“Thanks for coming, Jaehyun,” you said softly, when you were finally able to tear yourself away from his lips.

He tightened his arms around you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Y/N, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

---

Thanks for 1.4k :)

[REQUESTS CLOSED]

[itsnothesameasitwas]

hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

[abluescarfonwaston]

The wolves all go out of there way to bring home a few books every winter. Just whatever they can find and fit in their bags. They won't ever be able to replace the library they lost during the sacking but the slowly growing collection does give then something else to do during the long winter nights.

It also becomes a bit of a competition- as it always does between them - to bring the best book, the book with the most interesting story of how they acquired it, and the most Valuable book (the definition of which changes every year).

Lambert makes it his goal every year to bring the most indecent romance novels he can. I'm talking novels labeled Erotic. I'm talking Porn with just enough plot to get published. Sometimes the others will try to one up him by bringing something even steamier. No one has ever beaten Lambert though.

Much to Vesemir horror the new library is a majority erotic novels (which they do try to hide from Ciri when she arrives).

One year Lambert brings home a story about a wandering knight and his faithful squire. He likes to read excepts to the wolves to get back at them for insulting his cooking, ripping the fancy blanket he won last year, beating him at qwent. Any opportunity really.

And the first few chapters are them going to brothels and wooing ladies. the standard stuff.

But then. Then they start sharing beds and brothels and the other partners just. fall away and they're Only with each other.

Lambert LOVES reading this to Geralt especially cause it can Actually make Geralt blush and run from the room. He's NEVER managed that with Geralt. Fuck YEAH.

And Geralts Dying. Because he recognized the prose during the First Chapter. and the pen name the writer used.

Dandelion.

Jaskier had written a gay romance novel about the two of them. Chocked full of the squires effusive praise for the ‘knight’.

And then one day Lambert stops reading it. Seems even shorter than normal with everyone.

"Lambert you wanna stop being a prick and read your dumb gay romance novel to us? Promise to only throw food at you this time." Eskel said.

"No. that was a shitty Fucking book and I hate it."

"Oh did the gays die again? Lambert you know they won't get published if they have a happy ending. Just rip the last pages out like always."

"No! The knight went and rode off into he Fucking sunset with that damn princess! Left the squire behind without a Fucking word!!!! I hate that Fucking knight and wanna rip his Fucking dick off!"

"Oh. Huh. Well they didn't die for once. happy ending."

"It's not a happy ending Eskel how -

"The knight and the princess were Fated to be together Lambert! all the foreshadowing was there!"

"The princess treated him like a moron! The squire Actually knew him and cared about him!"

"The squire caused him nothing but problems Lambert! Of Course he went with the princess who loved him and could give him the peaceful life he craved! Not every damn bi man has to end up with the guy Lambert!"

Eskel and Lambert continued their Screaming match. Vesemir appear to be regretting his every life decision. Ciri popped in the earplugs and continued reading her book. Geralt stared into his ale, frozen.

"What happens to the squire Lambert?" Geralt asked his drink quietly.

"THATS THE WORST PART. HE SMILES AND SENDS THEM OFF. LIKE HE ALWAYS KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN AND WAS HAPPY FOR THEM. AND YOU CAN JUST TELL HOW HEARTBROKEN THE MOTHERFUCKER IS AND WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPY WITH THAT."

"This is why we told you not to bring gay novels Lambert. You always get upset with how they end."

"It's not Fucking fair."

Geralt’s chair screeches against the stone as he stands up - an oddity since they all Hate that noise and actively avoid making it.

"Where are you going?" Eskel questioned as he stroad to the door.

"I need to talk to Jaskier."   

"And how do you intend to do that? Gonna ride down the mountain in a Fucking blizzard Geralt?"

"I." The door slammed closed behind him.

"Should." Ciri started. "One of us check on him?"

"No." They all said in unison.

(They did all at some point check on him)

Ciri was first. with a timid and then assertive knock on his door before she entered. Crawling into his arms and burrowing into his chest.

"We can go find him as soon as the snow melts. Okay?"

"I don't think he'd be very excited to see me." He mourned tucking her closer and burying his nose in her hair.

"It's Jaskier." She said simply about a man she only knew from their stories. "He's always excited to see you."

"You going to Brood all winter or do you actually want to figure out how to apologize wolf?" Eskel asked dragging him to the courtyard for a spar.

"There's nothing I can do. He'll never forgive me."

"Oh like he'd Never forgive you for the Djinn? Or for ripping his favorite doublet? Or telling him his singing sucked?" Eskel landed a hard jab. "And what happened every one of those times he'd Never forgive you?"

"That's different." He said returning the blow.

"Uh huh. Guess we'd better make sure you've got a damn good apology ready then?" Eskel smiled easily like he knew the punchline to a very funny joke. "Tell me what happened."

So he did.

Vesemir eased into the spring water across from him with a groan. He wondered how long he had before Vesemir started making fun of how long he spent in the bath again. Longer than if it was Eskel or Lambert at least.

They sat there and a question curdled in his belly until it forced its way out.

"How are we supposed to not get attached?"

"I think we're well past that point lad."

"But How? I can't. All these years and I still can't." He buried his head in his hands so he couldn't see how he'd failed Vesemir yet again.

"If I knew I'd tell you Geralt." Vesemir said, exhausted.

He glanced up and was Viscerally reminded how much Vesemir had lost over the long centuries of his life.

How he'd seen the school founded and fall. How he'd known every child who'd walked these halls and died in them.

How he knew exactly how many had died in the raid.

He remembered how Vesemir had fallen to pieces when the last Witcher he'd ever teach, Leo, had died.

And he remembered how Vesemir put himself back together for them.

"I can't. I can't Vesemir." If Ciri or Eksel or Lambert or Vesemir or Jaskier died. "I'm not as strong as you. I Can't."

"You will. You are." Vesemir squeezed his shoulder as he stood. "Make it worth the loss Geralt."

He sunk into the hot water and wondered how it could be.

He was half asleep when the door Slammed open and only had half a second before Lambert was cannon-balling into his chest.

"FIXED IT!"

He breathed through the pain. "Fix my ribs ass."

"You're fine whiny old man." Lambert shoved a book under his nose. the scent of barely dried ink filling his nostrils. "Read it!"

"Just tell me what happened. I'm not reading your handwriting in the dark." He said shoving it back.

"It's better than yours!" It wasn't. "The knight gets his head out of his ass and tells the squire he loves him and they go on countless more adventures." he puffed up proudly.

"And the princess? what happens to her?"

Lambert scowled at him. "Who gives a fuck about the princess?"

‘I do.’ He thought. "The knight does." He said.

"Ugh. uh. she meets another princess and they go ride off into there own sunset. okay? Happy you ungrateful prick?"

He smiled in a way that made Lambert gag. "I think that's a much better ending Lambert."

"Of course it is!" He preened from atop Geralt. Toes digging into his abdomen painfully.

"Now get out of my room or I'll throw you into the snow bank Lambert."

Lambert tried to call him on the threat so he made to make good on it. Lambert dashed from the room with a crass gesture.

That did sound like a better ending. He gripped his medallion and hoped that in the spring they'd get that ending.

An ending that lead into a very very happy beginning of something new.

[mattsvn]

Nostalgia.

Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader

Summary: A summer after graduation finds Iwaizumi Hajime halfway across the globe, sitting in a lecture hall and staring at a golden dome that reminds him of the world and his place in it. Or, the lack thereof.

Genre: Slight angst to fluff. Character introspection, self discovery!

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none.

A/N: Guess who’s crying :smiley: Okay, so I got inspired by this tik tok, check it out, show the artist some love, and adding to another idea I had this came up, I hope you guys like it!  ALSO, that beautiful summary was suggested by @meliorist-midoriya​ !!!​ Repost from my old blog, this is on my favorite fics ever written hehe

There is something distinctive about the traces left by people in the places they inhabited. Whether intentional or not, to enter a house that was once occupied is to step into an unknown life, where all that remains are the lines drawn on the wall frames, with random dates, leaving a record of someone’s growth.

A part of the wall with a lighter color, where photographs once hung and the trace of old drawings on the wall could be seen even if you paid close attention. Seeing the home you had lived in for years empty, lifeless or without its distinctive smell caused an ache in your chest that you couldn’t describe, how was that atmosphere created again, with spotless walls, perfect floors and the lack of human warmth?

You weren’t afraid of living alone, you were afraid of having a lonely life.

It was frightening to think that the apartment you had just bought might feel like it was inhabited by a ghost, with no trace that anyone had ever been there. One way or another you wanted to make that space, with only two rooms and one bathroom, feel like your home, even if it was just you, even if you would only live there for a few months.

So, amidst the worry about establishing a home and hundreds of paperwork, came the first day of college, one more step to adapt to, the breaking of a routine you had just begun to create.

There was no better way to start that school year than by being on time, so, at least for the first week, you tried to be there early enough. It gave you time to get through the school buildings, and to finish your coffee just before the first class started.

Thursday arrived, with the first class being Medieval Art, not usually a subject that caught the attention of many, so it was common to see empty seats. Still, as usual, you were planning on choosing the seat right next to the window, where the sunlight illuminated your notes, but that day, it seemed that someone already occupied that place.

You sat next to him, there was no reason not to share the table, didn’t pay attention to him, it seemed that the boy was taking a nap a few minutes before class, probably he had a class before that one, or he was just tired. The teacher settled into her seat, and you glanced sideways, only to see that the boy was still asleep, not moving.

“One day, the architect, Frank Gehry said: architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness” she began, while behind her appeared the image of a building you had heard too much about. “I think one of the best representations of this is Hagia Sofia” she continued, showing the image of that beautiful golden dome behind her, she kept talking.

As the guy next to you opened his eyes, sleepily he took a deep breath, concentrating on the image in front of him, with some concern he took the supplies from his backpack to take notes for the class, he seemed lost, confused and, in general, tired, like he was there by mistake, or, against his will.

Iwaizumi was not usually like this. Before moving to the United States, he had never been late for a class, he was the type of person who kept everything in order, always punctual, with notes in order and an impeccable grade. A role model in every sense of the word, student, athlete and perfect son.

But as soon as he arrived from his flight, tired to the bone and affected by jet lag, he slept as much as he could, only to wake up in the early morning, stunned by the different time zone he could not fall asleep at the right time, he still couldn’t get used to the food offered there, and he was unable to find the ingredients he would commonly use in Miyagi to eat.

People drove on the left seat, and the road was on the right side, they used to eat on the street without any concern, or on the way to their jobs and schools, nor did there seem to be manners in public transportation, at least no the ones he knew. There were words that confused him, and the symbols on the streets made his head spin.

People did not have the same habits he knew, and he noticed that after only a couple of days after moving in. By the time school started, Iwaizum was still trying to sleep at the time he was used to and didn’t make it until two or three in the morning, so, it resulted in waking up late and sleeping in between classes, he still wasn’t used to having his notes in English, so his handwriting looked weird, the teachers spoke too fast for him to understand, therefore, his notes were all over the place

Not to mention how unpunctual they were, he found himself a couple of times arriving late to class, only to find out that the teacher wasn’t there, and that it would probably take them twenty minutes more to arrive, and sometimes, they would cancel the class when you were already there, just because.

Even in the classes he looked forward the most, he found himself tired, bored, easily distracted, and he expected the same from this one, a subject he had taken only to complete his units. But, when he opened his eyes, he swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as that. A gorgeous dome of gleaming gold, with light streaming in through the windows and the distinctive marks of history on its walls.

It took him a few seconds to listen to the professor properly, as he was still impressed with what he saw on the projector, there was nothing that did not interest him, from the columns to that painting of the Virgin Mary, an impeccable marble floor, and, the mixture of both religions on its walls was perhaps what left him most curious of all that he had seen.

There was nothing like that in Japan, or at least not that he remembered. Byzantine architecture had that distinctive feature in which it left you mesmerized for a moment, he was so enraptured by it that he didn’t notice that there was someone sitting next to him, taking notes of the things the teacher was saying, with a slightly frown, concentrating, and different pens scattered around the table. The teacher continued talking, still detailing how a building created almost fifteen hundred years ago remained one of the finest constructions in human history.

Hagia Sofia, she read from the blackboard. He wrote down the title in a slightly disorganized way, along with the rest of the words on the board.

Hagia Sofia, meaning: holy wisdom. Constantinople, now Istanbul.

“Long before what we now know, the Byzantine Empire took place in what is now Istanbul, the capital of this empire is perhaps one of the most important historical and architectural sites of the Medieval Era, this was the largest known church  for about a thousand years. It has been used as a church, a mosque and now serves as a museum.” She explained, showing the various images of the building. ”There were two later constructions after this, one destroyed in a fire and the second in the Niká riots, then, in the year 532 construction began on what we now know as Hagia Sofia.“

"Wow” Iwazumi sighed, absently sketching the shape of the building.

“I won’t tell you much about this building, at least not for now,” said the teacher, pausing for a moment to look at the picture. “I want an essay on this topic, and I would like you to gather in pairs for it.” she asked them. “I just want your opinions and analysis on the things that are most important to you about the place and what you think is meant to be represented by these, either imagery or architecture. Your partner will be the person who is closest to you, starting with the two of you, at the bottom.”

You looked at Iwaizumi out of the corner of your eye, having to work with people you didn’t know was always a problem, but, you hoped it wouldn’t be like that this time. He also looked at you, a little relieved thinking that you would surely know something about Medieval Architecture, not like him, who felt totally lost in that new subject. Even so, he returned his gaze to the front, memorizing every detail of that dome in his mind.

The class continued, with the teacher talking about historical processes in the fifth century and the topics that would be taken throughout the course, Hajime could not help but see the excitement that certain topics caused you, especially with the mention of some gothic buildings. And so, in the blink of an eye, the class was over, and before he realized it, you were already grabbing your things to leave.

“My next class is Historical Theory, what’s yours? We can organize on the way” you said, looking at him for a second while you closed your backpack. Iwaizumi tried to put his belongings away as quickly as possible, but failed a bit with his clumsy movements. “What’s your major?"

"Oh, Sports Science,” he replied. Your reaction was as expected: confusion, what was a sports science major doing in a medieval art class? “All the other classes were busy and I needed some extra units.”

“Oh, I see” you nodded, walking out of the classroom with him walking beside you.

“What’s your major?” he asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t asked that before.

“Art History” you replied, with a smile. “By the way, my name is y/n” you said, extending your hand, he received it, still not used to the way people introduced themselves there, but little by little he was starting to adjust to it.

“Iwaizumi Hajime” he cleared his throat, here they speak by first names, not last names, you idiot, he said to himself in his mind. “Hajime.”

“So, Hajime, you didn’t organize your classes on time, you take naps before class, and you don’t know anything about Medieval Art” you jokingly commented. “We have quite a bit to learn, don’t you think?”

“Uh… y-yes” he nodded, stopping when you did, not even realizing how far he had walked. “I won’t let you do all the work, if that’s what you’re worried about” he assured, it seemed they were in front of the door to your next class the moment you stopped and looked at the door, Iwaizumi didn’t want to take up your time, but he had no idea what to say either.

“Well, how about we meet in the library later this week? You can give me your number so we can schedule the day” you hoped the professor wouldn’t come to the classroom while you were talking to  Iwaizumi, as he seemed like a very nice person, despite how nervous he was.

“Sure, I have the whole afternoon off tomorrow, is that okay?” you nodded, extending your phone to him so he could write down his number and name, to your luck, he returned it just in time.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’ll text you as soon as my class is over” you said, saying goodbye and entering just before the teacher, who closed the door behind himself.

Iwaizumi stared at the door for a few seconds, letting out a sigh,then, he walked to his next class. It felt awfully strange to walk around campus alone, with no one by his side. Maybe he had gotten too used to spending his free time with the rest of his friends in highschool, and, at times like these, where he was waiting for a message from a cute girl, he couldn’t help but think about how much he missed them.

He was alone, and that was terrifying.

Iwaizumi looked at his phone for the third time in an hour, the class, food chemistry, was just short of making him fall asleep, yet he couldn’t help but look at his phone and wonder at what point the cute girl in the Medieval Art class would send him a message.

She didn’t until almost four hours later, just as Iwaizumi had recently returned to his apartment and was working on a long assignment for the rest of the week. Ignoring the sound of a message at first, thinking it was probably Oikawa bugging him about some new thing he learned in Argentina, so, he didn’t look at his phone until a couple of minutes later, when a second message came through.

“Hi! Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, I’ve been a little busy, but this is my number!”

“My last class ends at 2:00 p.m., do you mind if I meet you at that time in the library?”

He answered almost immediately, regretting later for doing it so quickly, you look like a desperate idiot, he thought. To his luck, as soon as he locked the phone, the screen lit up again with the reply.

It seemed that after that things flowed perfectly, even though before he met her they would have seemed like inconveniences to him, now they looked as an opportunity. The professor for tomorrow’s class informed them that he was out of town, so his classes would start until the following week, which gave Iwaizumi a chance to continue with his homework calmly, and, to get ready to see the pretty girl the next day, maybe even sleep properly that night.

However, nothing went as he planned.

Again, he found himself staring at the ceiling at midnight, without any possibility of being able to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work. That wasn’t his bed, nor his sheets or his favorite pillow, it wasn’t his wall or the window overlooking his backyard. As he stared at the empty, flat ceiling, he wondered why he couldn’t at least see a golden dome so he would have something to think about while he tried to sleep.

And so he woke up quite late, much later than he was used to. Maybe his body took the opportunity to recover all his lost energy, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was that he woke up thirty minutes before the agreed time with the pretty girl, and, it took fifteen minutes to get to the library from where he was.

He sent as many messages as he could while getting dressed and trying to look as presentable as possible. At least it wasn’t strange to see people running around campus, although it was in the first few weeks of school, where no one was really worried about anything.

“I told you I could wait a while” you mentioned, Iwaizumi was standing in front of her, trying to control his breathing, visibly agitated for having run all the way to the library. “Tell me you at least ate something” you murmured, in a way to accept his apology, then he sat on the free seat in front of you, trying to avoid that questioning.

“I can eat something later, sorry I was late” he apologized, again, he expected you to be upset, but you weren’t, instead, the first thing he saw was a reassuring smile, you hadn’t been more than ten minutes late, so, there was really no problem. “Again, I’m sorry, I was…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Iwaizumi. You were only ten minutes late, I’ve known people who take an hour to show up” the boy looked at the table for the first time, it was almost like the mess she had in yesterday’s class, only now it had several open books around it. “My class ended early so I went ahead to research an assignment I had, don’t you want to go get something to eat before we start?”

“I’d rather do this and then I can eat something, I wouldn’t want to waste your time even more” he replied, it was too obvious that he still didn’t quite master English, or maybe he did but he was quite embarrassed about how it was that he pronounced things. “I’ve never had this happen to me before, I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay? Seriously, but why are you late? If you say it doesn’t usually happen to you” Iwaizumi looked towards the window with a frown, he felt like he would spend an embarrassment for that, because, sleeping late was not a good excuse, actually, nothing was a good excuse for his lateness, but still, he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re coming in with a hangover?”

“No, no, not at all. It’s just… I’m still not used to the time change here and I’m used to sleeping at a totally different time” he said, though there was more to it.

The insomnia was only a collateral result of how he felt, and perhaps what kept him most irritable. Perhaps he had chosen that change too quickly, or the feeling was probably something that would fade with time. But he couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t quite connected to reality, like he was living a strange dream. The routine he had worked on for years that kept him safe was gone, and was now out of his reach.

He missed going out every Tuesday for lunch with Oikawa, Makki and Mattsun. He missed walking to school and greeting his neighbors, or the way Oikawa’s older sister squeezed his cheeks, even though he said how much he detested it, he missed the karaoke he went to once a month and his mother’s food, hell, he even missed Oikawa’s obnoxious nephew.

“So, where are you from? Moving is hard enough, I can’t imagine doing it from another country” he looked at her, realizing she was genuinely concerned and curious, she meant it. The sincerity brought him calm, enough to say what he felt.

“Japan, I just got here a couple of weeks ago, I still don’t understand much and my English isn’t the best so I’m not having the best time” he pointed out, as he picked up his notebook, watching as she jotted something down on the computer, adding a document to start the essay. “Not to be rude, but your culture is really weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me, it is. But you end up getting used to it, don’t you? I find people’s behavior patterns depending on their culture interesting” Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed that there was already a book on Byzantine architecture on the table, which showed a picture of Hagia Sophia from the outside. “Besides, it’s normal to miss your hometown, don’t you think, what did you most like to do there?”

“Playing volleyball with my friends” he answered without hesitation, for it was true. He missed every detail of it, from the practices, to the coach yelling at his teammates to the games, even the ones he lost.

“Oh, were they on a team together?” she put the computer aside, devoting her full attention to him. Iwaizumi nodded, ready to talk about all the amazing things his team had. “Were you guys good?”

“Well, yes. At least within reason, we were. We never made it to nationals, but within our prefecture we were very good” he nodded, still feeling the bitter taste of defeat on the tip of his tongue as if it had happened yesterday, his last chance to go to nationals ended before it even started.

“And what position did you play?” he questioned, Iwaizumi picked up the book on the table solely to have something to distract himself with.

“Uh, wing spiker. I was the ‘ace’ of the school, but of course, I couldn’t be any of it without Oikawa."

"Oikawa?”

The conversation did not stop since then, between readings, corrections and stories about his high school, Iwaizumi did not even realize that almost three hours had passed, three hours in which he could not believe what he saw in images, despite all the fear he had, all the nostalgia that accumulated inside him, seeing that building in Constantinople brought him a peace that he could not manage to understand, no matter how much he wondered what was going on.

Although it didn’t compare to how the pretty girl explained things, he should probably stop referring to her as the pretty girl and start calling her by her name, as he ended up forgetting it, and every time she said his name, he blamed himself for not remembering hers. He learned everything he wanted to know in one afternoon, thanks to her, the semi domes, the atrium, every detail, structural and artistic there, he memorized it with her voice, melodious, calm, safe.

After making a couple of questions, he lost his fear of asking what he was seeing, because, as she told him, “no one knows everything, there will always be someone who knows something you don’t”. So, he ended up engaged in a conversation about the wonders of medieval architecture and no more than ten minutes later, the conversation drifted to the karaoke that his friends loved, or the park where he and Oikawa learned to play volleyball.

Life at the university became more bearable thanks to her, Iwaizumi heard the story of how she had just moved out of her parents’ house, how they also moved out of their house and the pain it caused her to leave the home she loved empty. She enjoyed knitting, watching movies and listening to new music all the time. In a couple of weeks, he discovered her favorite food, and the kind of clothes she liked best, the movies that made her cry and the ones that made her die laughing, and with each thing he learned, she asked him the same questions. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to answer, or what people used to say, it made him wonder if he seemed like a nice person or someone who would be interesting to spend time with.

Tuesdays of going out to eat became Tuesdays of organized movies in the dorms, once-a-month karaokes became visits to museums instead of his neighbors, now he was greeting his roommates every morning, now the cute girl in Medieval Art class was the one squeezing his cheeks, it seemed that, little by little, everything was starting to be as he knew it.

Or at least that’s what he thought

“But what do you like, Iwaizumi?” she asked him on a sunny afternoon where sunlight illuminated her room and there was a random movie on TV as the background noise, around her a lot of snacks and fried food, that’s what Saturdays were like, relaxed and sunny. “I almost feel like I know Oikawa like you do, but you don’t tell me much about yourself.”

“Huh?” he asked, doubtful, hadn’t he been talking about himself all that time, or had he only thought he was? “I don’t know what you want to know about me.”

“I want to know who you are, beyond all your friends and the people in your life.I know what Oikawa likes and how many fans he had or the perfect settings he did, but I want to know about you.” she told him.

She didn’t know if it was because the girl was an art enthusiast, or if she just hadn’t met someone who wanted to know more about him for her own pleasure, for what she felt was inexplicable.

“Well, well… with my team” he began, stopping the moment he saw the look on the girl’s face, who could only thus make him feel as if he were a scolded child. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, confused as to what it was he should say.

“Who are you, Iwaizumi, what do you like, what song do you like the most? I don’t want to know about other people, I want to know about you, about what makes you who you are.” She began, the moment only seemed more special with the way the sun was shining on her skin and her smile seemed to shine even brighter than it always did. “I know you’re a good teammate, a good son, a good friend, but who are you, what are the qualities that you have?”

He looked into her eyes, how many times hadn’t he stopped to look into those beautiful eyes that stole his breath, or those lips that said the cutest yet most painful things?“

"Iwaizumi. I want you to tell me the story that you have, like Hagia Sophia, do you remember all the marks that it has? the mix of everything that lies in you? There is so much history in who you are beyond your friends, I want to know if you are happy or if you like ice cream, how you react to things. I hope you understand me, it’s okay to like things that your friends do or showed you, but I don’t think it should be all that you are, so, who are you?”

Still not taking his eyes off her, he remembered every detail of the building he studied for weeks, the religious motifs and art on its walls, the history even in the broken parts of the floor, or those portions where the paint was completely gone. And, with tears in his eyes, he replied:

“I don’t know.” He murmured, his voice trembling.

And he really didn’t know, he had lived so long being a friend, son, teammate and neighbor that, little by little, without realizing it, he stopped prioritizing the things that to him and only to him made him happy.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about it” she murmured in the same way, very close to him as if she were telling him a secret. “Find out who you are.”

And just like that, the first picture of the two of you decorated your wall, along with some paint smudges from a sunny afternoon, a canvas, and some brushes, and a volleyball mark at first. Two wrongs can make a right, your mother would say. You, in search of rebuilding your space, and he, in search of himself.

You couldn’t have picked a better time than that, or a better life than that.

taglist: @sugas-sweetheart @kirislut @hannahalanib1 @goopyartiste @yee-harr @ohno-grapes @peach-pops @meliorist-midoriya @milktyama @majestic-sea-flip-flop @starlessnyx @tanakasimpcorner @msbyslugg @ordinary-ace @boosyboo9206

[blu-joons]

Confessions Of An Author ~ Kim Namjoon

The crowds around the bookstore seemed much bigger than usual as Namjoon approached the building. Scatterings of people stood around the entrance as he walked down the road, twisting, and turning to try and catch a peek at what was going on.

As he walked closer, he began to heard mutterings of a famous author inside apparently signing a few copies of their latest book for the store to sell on. He tried hard to catch the name, but each time it eluded him.

It was only when he got to the front window of the store did, he see a piece of paper stuck to the glass, advertising your appearance at the store. His lips parted as he stretched up on his tiptoes, searching desperately to see you and find out if you really were there.

“Why don’t you just go in?” A man questioned from beside Namjoon, holding a copy of your book tightly in your hand. “They say she’s not going to be around for long as she’s busy, you don’t want to miss her, she’s really nice.”

Namjoon looked down as the man showed him the signed copy of your book he’d picked up, noticing a small message written in it too. He couldn’t quite make out what the message said, but he was desperate to receive one of his own.

He smiled appreciatively at the man for pushing the door of the bookstore open, grabbing one of your books from the shelves that were at the front of the store. The smell of a fresh book was the greatest smell in the world as Namjoon brought it under his nose, flicking through the pages, enjoying the crispness they still possessed.

His hand gripped tightly to the book as he walked around, whilst it was still in pristine condition, he was desperate to make the most of it. Even if he had read the book already once before, one with your signature in was enough for him to read it again.

He glanced around the store before finally getting to where you were sat with a small queue of people stood in front of you. His eyes lit up as he got his first glance of you, you were clueless to him stood before you, but he knew everything about you.

His bookcase at home was filled with your works, he loved reading them when he got a spare few minutes in his day. He’d been a big fan of your books since the store first started selling him, all the titles captured his attention.

Slowly the queue got shorter and before he knew it, he was the next in line. He began to grow impatient, encouraging the guy in front of him to speed things up. Finally, he watched as he stepped aside, allowing Namjoon to approach you.

“Thank you for waiting,” you smiled, taking the lid off your pen.

With shaky hands he placed the book on the table for you to sign, placing both his hands behind his back to stop you from seeing how nervous he was.

“What name do you want me to write it to?” You asked, beginning to scribble down on the page.

“Namjoon.”

You quickly wrote a little message in the middle of the page, signing it off with your signature and a kiss underneath your name.

“I’m a really big fan of your work, your mind is so smart,” he whispered.

You glanced up and noticed his tinted cheeks, he wasn’t the first guy to get nervous around you today, but none of them had a smile like he did.

“I didn’t even know you were going to be here today; it feels a bit like fate that I decided to come and get a new book today,” he laughed.

Your eyes lit up, “maybe you’re right. I hope you’re glad you came to the store today and seeing me isn’t too much of a disappointment.”

“It’s made my day.”

You chuckled lightly, watching as he cringed at his own words. “Don’t worry, you’d be surprised by some of the things I’ve heard today, you’re not the worse one.”

“I’m glad you want to make me feel better,” he frowned, looking away from you.

“Not at all,” you quickly reassured him.

His hand reached out and picked up the book, holding it closely into his chest. “I guess I’ll just go now before I say something else. There’s plenty of other people waiting to meet you.”

“Oh…if you’re sure,” you whispered, but before you could finish, he’d walked away.

As soon as he was away from you, he was quacking himself for getting so nervous. Words failed him from the minute he met your eyes, clueless as to how to even string a sentence together.

He continued his walk around the store, grabbing a few more books before buying a coffee from the café at the back of the store. He couldn’t wait to get himself out of the store quick enough, already feeling like he’d embarrassed himself enough, until he felt his body nudge into someone else’s.

“I’m so sorry,” he yelled without even looking what had happened, feeling a splash of coffee spill from the cup and fall to the floor.

“I guess this is fate bringing us together again?” A voice laughed, one that Namjoon instantly recognised.

His eyes spun around to where you stood before him, quickly studying you to make sure he hadn’t spilt coffee on you before allowing himself to smile.

“I should have looked where I was going,” he blushed, “I wanted to get out of here to make sure I didn’t do anything more stupid in front of you, and I’ve ended up doing the complete opposite of what I wanted.”

“It looks like you might need a new book too?”

“A new book?” He asked, as you pointed to what he held in his hand.

He couldn’t help the groan that followed as he noticed a splattering of coffee across the front cover of the signed book, tilting his head back in frustration.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find another one and I can sign it again, a loyal fan like you doesn’t deserve to go home with a ruined book.”

“It’s my own fault, it doesn’t matter.”

He tried to spin away, but your hand grabbed the book and took it from him, placing it on the table beside you both. He felt his heart pound as you stood much closer to him, silently pleading with him to let you get him another.

“I’ve got no more copies now, but maybe I could get your address and send you one?”

“Why don’t you just let me take you out sometime instead,” he suggested, realising only after he’d spoke what he’d said. He cringed yet again, not able to bring himself to look at you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Your head shook, smiling up at him, “you don’t need to apologise, maybe I could let you take me out sometime. As long as you promise to stop cringing at yourself, you’re a nice guy, you’ve certainly made me smile today.”

“Really?” He asked in a slight moment of disbelief, “because if I’m honest, I’ve made as big a fool of myself as I’ve done today.”

You chuckled lightly, “that’s probably why I feel like I’ve warmed to you, you certainly got my attention. You’re a fan I definitely won’t be forgetting for a while.”

“Then as a thank you for writing such good books, let me take you out for dinner, it’s the least I can do,” he proposed, anxiously waiting for a response.

“How about I write my number in the book, as a keepsake, and then you can give me a ring,” you suggested, picking up the book and writing down your number.

“Maybe a ruined book can come in handy after all.”

---

Masterlist

[spencerreidslove]

Old Friends

A/N: This idea has been haunting my dreams for the past month and a half, so I sat myself down and forced myself to write it. I used 2 songs called ‘Portland’ by Bowling Shoes and ‘Backyard Boy’ by Claire Rosinkranz.

———-

Maybe if Spencer hadn’t been so distracted by trying to get the bartender to open up about the man he was looking for, he might’ve heard the whispers fluttering around the bar.

“I heard she has 7 new songs! 7!”

“Did you see her last show? She was amazing!”

“I can’t believe she’s here!”

Maybe if Spencer hadn’t been so distracted by telling Morgan everything he had learned, he might’ve noticed the posters coating the walls, advertising a show later that night.

Spencer only noticed the busyness in bar when he looked up from his phone to see Morgan staring at something over his shoulder. No, not something.

Somebody.

Spencer turned and spotted who Morgan was looking at.

At the exact same moment you looked up from where you were signing a peice of paper a girl had handed you.

A grin broke out across your face, and you said your goodbyes to the girl and made your way over to Spencer.

Before he could say anything, you wrapped your arms around him, and he smiled and wrapped his arms around you.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked.

“What am I doing here? I have a show. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Work.” Spencer pulled away from the hug. “It’s been too long.”

Morgan cleared his throat from behind Spencer.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just have to know who is so important that Spencer Reid breaks his germaphobe rules and hugs somebody.” He said.

Spencer flushed a little bit, clearly embarrassed about ignoring Morgan.

“Morgan, this is Y/N Y/L/N, we lived next door to each other when we were growing up.” Spencer turned twoards you. “Y/N, this is Derek Morgan, we work together.”

“Grew up together? You must have so many stories about Spencer.” Morgan said, smirking.

“Tons. This one time when we were four-“

“So Y/N, are you the reason everybody’s so excited around here?” Spencer said, cutting off your story.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Morgan asked. “You’re the only thing people are talking about around here.”

At the moment, Morgan’s phone rang and he stepped away from Spencer and you to answer it.

“My show’s tonight. Maybe you could come?” You asked.

Spencer shrugged. “I’m here for work, if we can fit it in I’ll come.”

Your face fell a little bit. “Well, I’m here again tomorrow night too. See if you can make it.”

Somebody called for you from the back, and we quickly reached up to plant a kiss on Spencer’s cheek. He immediately flushed bright red.

“See you maybe.” You said, turning and going back into the sea of people.

“Pretty Boy.” Morgan said from behind Spencer. “Look at you.”

Spencer, who was still bright red, flushed even darker. “I-uh-shut up.” He said, pushing out past Morgan.

-

Spencer ends up missing your show by nearly three hours. When he gets back to the hotel, he falls back on his bed, knowing he won’t get any sleep.

The UnSub is still out there and Spencer has to be back at the station at early. Instead of sleeping, like he should, Spencer opens Spotify and types in your name.

He always knew you wanted to sing, and he kept up with your career in the early days, but things got busy.

You have around 20 songs on Spotify and Spencer spends the whole night listening to them. He never really liked music with words, but it’s different with you.

Spencer’s almost done with all your music when he reaches a song called ‘Portland’

The words are oddly familiar and something stirs in his memory.

-

“C’mon, Spencer, it’ll be fun!” You said. You’re both seventeen and Spencer’s on summer break from college.

“No! I will not drive you to Portland just because you want to.” He said, not entirely serious.

“It’s just one long drive!” You cried out, “if we leave now, we’ll get there by morning.” You stuck out your bottom lip.

Spencer wasn’t budging.

“Just one day?” You asked.

“Get your keys. We’ll leave in 10.” Spencer said, finally giving in.

-

By mid afternoon the next day they caught the unsub. They would’ve left right away for the airport, but it was pouring outside and it wasn’t slowing down. Hotch decided that they would leave first thing the next morning.

“Reid.” Morgan said, making his way over to Spencer. “Are you going to go to Y/N’s other show tonight?”

“Probably.” Spencer said. In his mind, he knew that he was already going.

“Probably? Pretty Boy please, I’m not blind.” Morgan said.

“What?”

Morgan sighed. “I saw the way you looked at her. And she’s very pretty.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

“You’re going to that show.” Morgan said.

-

Apparently you were a bigger deal than you made yourself out to be. The bar you were playing in was packed. Spencer had originally planned on going alone, but Morgan ended up telling the entire team that they heard about a show at the bar they went to yesterday.

Luckily, he hadn’t told the team that Spencer knew the main act.

The team ended up being a little late, and you were already a few songs in when the team found a spot by the bar.

Your eyes met Spencer’s and your face immediately lit up. This didn’t escape a group of profiler, who noticed the exchange.

A little while later, you announced that you were going to be playing a new song.

You strummed a few strings on your guitar before you started singing.

“5, 6, 7, 8

Dance with me in my backyard boy

Looking super fine in your corduroy

Drive me round the block

We can go in a loop

And we'll turn the volume up on some

Good boy band tunes.”

Like last night, Spencer immediately felt a connection to the song. Most days when you were younger were spent in your backyard, where you would force Spencer to play games with you.

Your show finished a couple songs later and as the team was chatting about the show and ordering another round of drinks, Spencer made his way to a door by the stage where he saw you disappear a few minutes ago.

Spencer went to knock on the door, and you quickly poked your head out. You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Spencer said: “Why didn’t you tell me you wrote songs about me?”

You closed your mouth and grabbed Spencer’s wrist. You pulled him back behind the door and down a hall until you reached the small room the bar told you you could keep your things in.

Once you were in the room, you turned to Spencer and crossed your arms. You looked at the floor and paused for a second before you answered.

“I didn’t tell you I wrote songs about you because...well... Jesus Spence it’s been like 6 years since I’ve seen you! I don’t even have your phone number!” You said.

“It’s been 6 years 13 days 7 hours and 52 seconds since I’ve last seen you.” Spencer said.

You rollled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Look, if you want me to take them down or something I will, but I wrote them cause then it felt like I was talking to you.”

“No, I’m not saying you should take them down, I’m saying...” Spencer trailed off.

“You’re saying...” you said, trying to get him to continue.

“I’m not sure.”

There was another pause.

“I should probably get back to my team. Here.” Spencer said. He pulled a pen out of his pocket, and with your prompting, wrote his number on your arm.

Spencer turned to leave, but stopped just before the door. “Just know that...that I spent pretty much every day of those 6 years missing you.”

When Spencer made his way back to the group, they turned their attention towards him.

“Do you know the girl?” Emily asked.

“Huh?” Spencer responded.

“The performer, Y/N?” JJ said.

“Oh, yeah. We’re old friends, we grew up together.” Spencer said.

That only sort of seemed to fill the questions the team had.

A few moments later they all decided to call it a night, as they had an early flight. As the group left the bar, a voice called out from the side alley.

“Spence, wait a second!” You called out.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked.

The entire team turned just in time to see you plant a kiss on Spencer’s lips.

“I missed you too.” You whispered, only loud enough for Spencer to hear.

You dashed off back down the alley before Spencer could respond.

There was a moment of silence before Morgan wolf whistled. “Just old friends huh Pretty Boy?!” He called out.

“Shut up.” Spencer said, pushing past the group.

-

Later, after Morgan recounts the events to Garcia over the phone, Spencer gets a text from Y/N that reads:

Why did somebody that claims to work with you just text me and say that she’s half she found nothing bad on me?

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne @itsmyblogandiwillblogifiwantto @andreasworldIsboring101

[sherrybaby14]

Moral of the Story

Summary:  Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end.  Then he meets you.

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x female reader.

Warnings:  Alcohol, Smut, ANGST

Words:  5k

A/N:  This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard​ challenge. Congrats Doll!  My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

   The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy.   You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.  

   With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.

   “I think they want you to join them?”  A voice boomed in your ear.

   You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.  

   “I don’t want to spill my drink.”  You ran your hands down your now wet dress.

   “Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.”  He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”

   “It’s okay.”  You began to pat your dress dry.  “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat.  I don’t drink often.”

   “Me either.”  He gave a warm smile.  

   “Then why are you in a nightclub?”  You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”

   “A friend invited me.”  His gaze went to the dance floor.

   You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man.  You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette.  She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.  

   “I think your friend is going to get lucky.”  You turned back to see his jaw clench up.  

   “Yeah, it looks like it.”  He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes.  “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”  

   “Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.”  You shrugged.

   He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.  

   “There’s a diner a block away.”  He leaned against the bar.  “Open twenty four hours.  I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”  

   “I’m game.”  You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.  

   “I’m Steve by the way.”  He held out his hand.  

   “I know who you are.”  You smiled.  “I think the whole world knows who you are.”  

   A confused look spread across his face.  The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.  

   “That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.”  Steve grabbed his chin.  “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”  

   “Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?”  You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead.  “Oh Captain my Captain?”

   “Alright, I get it.”  Steve laughed.  “So what’s your story?  I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”

   “It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.”  You winked.  “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy.  In my free time I do the basics,  read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”  

   “Pilates man.”  Steve pulled the diner door open.  “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

   “I fall in every yoga position.”  You followed Steve as he slid into a booth.  “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”  

   “You?”  Steve’s eyes went wide.  “You look like you would be a great dancer.”

   “I’m great at a lot of things.”  You flipped over your mug.  “But bad at more.”  

   “I’m really bad at board games.  I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.”  Steve leaned back in the booth.  “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”  

   “Oh yeah?”  You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin.  “Prove it?”

~~

“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.”  You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn.  “Exhaustion is setting in.  I’ve got to get to bed.”

“How far do you live from here?”  Steve reached for his wallet.  “It’s almost 4 am.  Can I walk you home?”  

“Four am?”  You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.  

Sure enough the device read 3:56.  

“Damn.”  You grabbed a menu.  “Might as well order breakfast then.”  

Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.  

“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?”  You but the menu back.  

“I’ll have the same.”  Steve leaned forward.

“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”

“I’m being adventurous tonight.”  Steve winked.  

“Okay.”  She walked away.

“I like the way you know what you want.”  Steve leaned back.  “Kind of no nonsense.  It’s refreshing.”  

“I wouldn’t say that.”  You laughed.  “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am.  I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”  

“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?”  Steve almost seemed fidgety.  

“There’s lots of special people in my life.”  You smiled.  “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”  Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.  

“No reason.”  You wished you had a better answer.  “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious.  I guess I’m picky? What about you?”

“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.”  Steve gave a pressed smile.  “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago.  Wanted to try being friends.  I agreed to give it a go.  I don’t see how it’s going to work.”  

The perfect 10 brunette.  Your heart started to ache for the man.  He was heartbroken.  It was all over his face, body language.  Everything clicked.  

“What a bitch.”  You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.  

He laughed and you relaxed.

“There you go, being honest and direct again.”  Steve put his elbows on the table.  “I don’t think people can be friends with exes.  It’s not in the cards.”  

“I’ve never tried.”  You were more of the it’s done it’s done type.  “My philosophy is look forward.  The future.  Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”  

“I’m starting to think the same thing.”  Steve’s eyes lit up.  “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing.  But I never really fit into her life.”  

“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?”  You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”  

“No!” Steve rolled his eyes.  “That was part of the problem.  I think she wanted that.  Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”

“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.”  It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.

“I am not a celebrity.”  Steve wagged a finger at you.  

“Oh I’m sorry.”  You brought your hand to your chest.  “Historical figure.”

Steve cracked up.  His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.  

“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm.  “Could I have your telephone number?”  

You knew he was bating you for a joke.  But you preferred the natural type.  

“Yes.”  You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch.  “You can have my number.”

~~

Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable.  You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.  

There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night.  He was a cool guy and it was a fun time.  Your brain started to think about work.  You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.  

You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor.  There was a text from Steve already.  

Are you going to say good morning?  

You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days.  It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.  

Good morning!  Or afternoon?  

Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form.   You parted ways seven hours ago.  It was a Saturday.  This was unexpected.   The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times.   You were on the edge of your seat.  

Then your phone started to vibrate.  You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.

“Was good afternoon not appropriate?  Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.”  You tried to stifle the excitement.

“You want to have a beer with me tonight?”  Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone.  “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of.  There’s this sports bar I love,  I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”  

“I’d love to.”  You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.  

“Great, nine o’clock?  I’ll text you the address.”  Steve’s smile carried over the phone.  

“Sounds like a plan.”  You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.  

“Have a great day.  I”ll see you tonight.”  

“Bye.”  You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.  

You didn’t see that one coming.  

Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away.  You sent a thumbs up emoji.  To your surprise, Steve responded:

Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back?  Why did we skip the sonnets?

You didn’t even think before responding.

You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day?  Thou art more lovely and temperate.  

Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.

You: I stole it from Clueless.  

Steve: What’s Clueless?

~~

You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am.  Even more thrilled with the date from the night before.   It was fun.  It was a fantastic time.  Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.  

“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.”  You stood up from the bar stool.  “Plus I hit my three beer maximum.  Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”  

“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.”  Steve beamed at you.  

“Me?”  You were shocked.  “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”

“Well would this bother you then?”  Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.

Warm lips met yours.  You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating.  Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out.  A little moan came forward when he pulled away.  

There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.  

“Let’s get you an Uber.”  

All you could do was nod in a numb state.  This amazing man kissed you.  It was like a dream.  

You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom.  Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in.  It wouldn’t be too much.  

When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone.  Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.  

Today you can say good morning.  I have faith.  

~~

Steve Rogers was perfect.  Three dates in a week, not including coffee night.  Every other day he wanted to see you.  He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available.  Sent you little comics you found funny.   You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.

You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting.  I’ll text you later.  

Steve: Knock ‘em dead.  

Supportive too.  You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket.  It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.

“You’re smiley.”  A coworker bumped you with her arm.  “It’s almost like you have a glow.”

“Just a happy person.”  You shrugged.  “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”

“Oh he did much better!”  Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief.  “That tutor was worth every penny.”

She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve.  This was the best week of your life.

~~

The meeting got your adrenaline pumping.  You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground.   It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.  

That was when you picked up your phone.  Two messages from Steve.  Fuck.  Guilt set in.  

How was the meeting?  

Everything okay?

You grabbed your phone and started typing.

You: Sorry work got crazy.  Major project.  Just leaving now.  

Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner?  Unwind?  I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?  

Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.  

You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off,  but did that matter?  Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance.  He wanted you for who you were.   And right now that sounded perfect.

You: Do you have ice cream?  

Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing.  Any flavor you like.  Popsicles too.  

You: I’m in.  Text me your address?  

~~

Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous.  Not this time.  Your brain played a slide show of the last week.  The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions.  He made you feel like the most important person in the world.  

Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners.  You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.  

With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment.  The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.  

When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you.  This was going to be the hard part.  

“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.”  You rehearsed this in your head a few times.  “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours.  This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence.  But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”  

“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open.  “Again I love your honesty.”  

You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table.  Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.  

“Full disclosure,  all I had was some TV dinners.”  Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.  “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles.  But I can think of something I want for dessert.”

You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.   He reached underneath you and scooped you up.  You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.  

Nothing had ever felt so right in your life.  It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.  

“You’re too perfect.”  You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.  

“You’re a one-in-a-million.”  Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.  

Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could.  Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts.  You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.  

Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed.  On your back, legs spread, knees up.  His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss.  You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.  

He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up.  Was that his tongue? His lips?  You cried out when something slid inside of you.  

“FUCK!”  Your body convulsed around his mouth.  

Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure.  Steve kept licking, touching, working you.  Everything was frenzied.   Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.  

“I knew you were primed.”  Steve kissed up your stomach.  “But you have one more in you.”  

He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance.  Never had you came that fast from another person.

Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy.  You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders.   Rolling your body against his.  

“That’s it.”  He nipped at your neck.  “You were meant for me.  Never felt this way before.”  

You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you.  He returned the kiss and sped up.  Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.  

There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together.   Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started.  The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.  

Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed,  it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark.  But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.

Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down.  You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.  

His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip.  Drinking him all down while your body shook.  

“I think I’m falling in love.”  Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.  

You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him.   He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.  

You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away.  If pure happiness existed, this was it.  How did you get so lucky?

~~

Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.  

You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.  

You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.  Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.

Steve: Get some sleep.  I miss you.  

You: I miss you too.

You grabbed your pillow.  If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same.  A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.

~~

You woke with a smile.  Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname.  You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.

All week long you’d woken up to messages.  You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.

You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.

~~

Work was so intense, you turned your phone off.  No distractions.  When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages.  When the screen came to life you saw nothing.  

Maybe it was wrong?  Messages glitched sometimes.  You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message.  It said read at 12:03 am.  

You shrugged it off.  Steve knew you had a big work day.  He was being respectful.  You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy.  It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.  

~~

The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday.  Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.  

Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How was your day?

You: Good.  I have so much to tell you!

There was no bubble response, or read receipt.  You stared at your phone.  Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.  

After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.

Steve: Can we meet for coffee?  

You giggled.

You: Why not dinner?  The real kind this time.  It was a big day for me!  I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.  

Steve: Coffee.  Now?  First night?

Maybe he had a big day too.  He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.

You: Sure.  I’ll be there in twenty.  

You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.  

~~

When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere.  Maybe you beat him here.   You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.  

You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.

“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?”  You slide into the booth.  “I couldn’t even recognize you.”

“There’s no easy way to say this.”  Steve cracked his jaw.  “Ashley called me last night.  Very upset.”

“Whose Ashley?”  You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“My ex.”  He let out a huge sigh.  “She’s a mess.”

“The bitch from the club?”  You were a little interested in the drama.

“She’s not a bitch.”  Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold.  “She has some problems.  She is working on them.  And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”

“Oh.”  You felt like your soul floated out of your body.

“You’re so perfect.”  He reached out and grabbed your hands.  “But she needs me.  You don’t need me.  We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”  

“Oh.”  Everything went numb.

“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.”  Steve squeezed your hand.  “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t.  It was perfect,  you’re perfect.”

“You already said that.”  Your voice was getting tight.  

“But I mean it.”  He pushed the hood off his baseball cap.  “I can’t leave her.  Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night.  She’s a disaster.”  

The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep.  You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly.  You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.  

“I hope we can stay friends?”  He let out a sigh.  “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week.  Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life.  You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”

The way he said week hit home.  It was only a week.  Not a month, not a year.  Just a week.  A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings.  But instead you said one thing.

“Sure.”  Your brain started to scream at itself.  

“That’s such a relief.”  Steve dropped his shoulders.

“I had a really long day.”  You stood up from the booth.  “Talk soon?”

You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing.  You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.  

~~

Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry.  You didn’t hold back for them.  You made sure they alternated duty.   You even took a week off of work.

“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?”  You sobbed to your best friend.  

“No hunny.”  She ran a hand through your head.  “No.  You got caught in a weird game.”  

~~

Steve: How do you kill a circus?

It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve.  You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it.  The last thing you want is to memorize his number.  

You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted.  It’s only been five days.  He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.  

~~

Three days later you get  another.

Steve: How are you?

You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.  

You: Fine.

Steve: Glad to hear.

You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.

~~

Steve: I miss you.

Your heart races.  It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life.  The tears sting your eyes.  You’ve been apart longer than you were together.   Did he realize he made a mistake?  Was he coming back to you?

You start typing: I miss

But then you stop.  No.  You had to frame this right.  State it right.  But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you?  Did you love him?  Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.  

With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block.  The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.

~~

The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit:  CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED!  It ran all over the headlines.  

Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere.  You couldn’t escape.  It hit you then.  You were a rebound.  You were nothing.  A temporary step on his life path.  It hurt.  It hurt more than anything.  No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.

~~

“I’m glad we got you out tonight.”  Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear.  “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”

“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life.  “But I’m here.”

You still hated the loud music.  Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.  

“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.  

“Not yet.”  You yanked it away.  “In a few drinks.”

“I’ll wait with you.”  She settled next to you.  “But that dance floor is inviting.”

The bodies were moving and you scanned the area.  Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.  

“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?”  Your friend grabbed your arm,  you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name.   “She’s not kissing Cap.”

She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.  

A wave of clarity rushed over you.  

“His girl wants to party all the time.  He buys her champagne and diamonds.”  A weird smile settled over you.  “He thinks he can fix her.”

That was the problem.  You didn’t need fixing.  And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you.  Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him.  You never would.

“Go dance.”  You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.  

For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.  

A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.

“It’s loud in here.”  A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.

“There’s a coffee shop a block away.”  You stood up.  “Can I buy you a cup?”

“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.  

“What’s your name?”  You yelled over the music.

“Stephen.”  He was right behind you.  

“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?”  You pushed open the door to the club.

The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.

“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.”  His intense eyes glared at you.  “And I am a surgeon.  Everyone I encounter is needy.  I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”

You stifled your laughter at the response.   At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind.  Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.  

“Well Mr. Stranger,  I will never need you.”  You grinned at him.  “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”

“It’s actually Doctor Strange.”  He chuckled.  “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”

“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk.  “How do you kill a circus?” 

The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.  

“You go for the juggler of course.”  

[ladynestaarcheron]

Fears All the Way Down - Chapter Six

ao3 - masterpost

Hey, babes! Here are our canon fixes for the week:

1. When Nesta was six, she met with a man who declared more or less immediately that she would forever be hopeless at playing an instrument or singing, but that she had a good ear for music. Bull.

2. Nesta is apparently so desperate for a friend that she gives the House life, but never really hangs out with the priestesses. Um. Okay? Sounds fake, but okay.

3. Both Gwyn and Emerie have never left their homes in Sangravah and Illyria, respectively, except for when the IC brings them to the library. Not exactly a fix, but something we will start to explore.

Enjoy!

---

Since Nesta's accomplished virtually nothing in her life, she expects her ideas of "new things" to try to be easy to come up with. But after an hour of brainstorming in bed that Thursday evening, she only has two things scribbled in the notebook Thalia gave her: Wear yellow and Learn to play the trumpet.

"Don't suppose you have a trumpet in here?" Nesta says to the House.

The House only pulls the curtains shut in answer.

"Bedtime," she agrees, shutting the notebook and placing it on her bedside table. "I think this one-per-day rule is a bit much, don't you? Especially considering these self-defense lessons. Do you think other girls will come?" Nesta doesn't always wait for an answer when talking to the House. It tends to interject as it pleases, generally by opening doors or magicking a cup of tea in front of her. "I think that Emerie girl would like to. From Illyria, I told you about her...oh, thank you," she adds, for the House has placed the novel Nesta started last night by her pillow. "Shall I read aloud, then?"

She does, until she falls asleep.

The next morning, she draws looks from the hood-less girls and slight double-takes from the veiled priestesses; no doubt courtesy of the bright yellow dress the House had pulled out of her wardrobe this morning. She ignores them, not stopping until she reaches Clotho's office. When she knocks, Thalia's voice calls for her to enter.

"Well!" Thalia says, smiling.

"I'm never wearing this color again. It washes me out." Ruins the detox and more regulated eating she's had this past month.

"I think you look lovely," she insists, and Clotho nods. "But that's certainly your prerogative. Is that the worst consequence?"

"Yes, yes," Nesta says impatiently, waving a hand. "It won't kill me to try new things. Lesson learned."

Thalia looks over at Clotho. Perhaps she can tell what the priestess looks like under her hood, or perhaps she talks to her mind-to-mind like Feyre and Rhysand do, but Nesta almost thinks they exchange a glance of some sort. Amused, perhaps?

"Can either of us help you with anything, Nesta?" Thalia asks pleasantly, and gestures for her to sit down.

"Maybe," Nesta says taking a seat. Her cheeks color slightly as she does; why is she bashful about this all of a sudden? Around Thalia and Clotho? "I...well, I've started some self-defense, you know."

"We know." They both did, had both asked her how it was going. "You're still enjoying it, aren't you?"

"I...I am-it's good for me." Enjoy is a strong word.

"You said it helps keep you focused," Thalia says. "Centered."

"Yes. It...makes me feel good." She doesn't normally struggle with her words so much, does she? Does she sound like an idiot to the two of them, or just to her own ears? No, Clotho and Thalia would never say that about her. Never even think it. It's only her who's like this, trapped in her own wretched mind, slave to something dark and horrible and become just as vile-

But no, that isn't true. It's not just her who feels that way. And that's why she's here.

"It makes me feel more in control," Nesta says finally. "Of my life and my body."

Thalia leans back, satisfied. Clotho doesn't move. Nesta wonders if they know, if they can guess at what just went on in her mind. Either way, they both wait for her to continue.

"And I thought," she says, pausing to draw breath, "that maybe some other girls might be interested. With...Cassian."

At this, Clotho does cock her head.

"We meet in the mornings. Not on Tuesdays and not over the weekend," she adds, just so they aren't sitting in silence.

After a few moments that feel ridiculously long, Thalia says, "I think that's a wonderful idea, Nesta."

For a brief, strange moment, something happens. Nesta breathes in as Thalia finishes her sentence-not in relief or any emotion in particular, just to breathe-and as she does so, something inside of her shifts. Un-constricts.

But it's gone just as soon as it arrives, and before Nesta has time to dwell upon it, one of Clotho's notes appears. For a select group of girls, perhaps.

"Yes, I think we have the same few in mind...Of course, Nesta, you're welcome to share this with all of the students, but just between Clotho and myself, I think we'll privately encourage four or five...yes, thank you for bringing this up to us, Nesta," Thalia says, finishing with another warm smile.

Don't go just yet, Nesta, please, Clotho writes as Thalia takes her leave. I wanted to ask you how you were doing.

"I'm well. Thank you."

I'm glad to hear these self-defense lessons have something to do with that...our own lectures and exercises too, I hope?

Nesta raises her head slightly as her cheeks tinge pink. "I-yes. I think so." Clotho waits, unmoving, until Nesta sighs and says, "I do like the lectures."

Wonderful. Which ones?

Nesta answers honestly, "All of them." It's...it's quite something, to learn things. Things she never knew, never imagined, from females who are so passionate about them. "And...I like the jewelery. I like working with my hands."

I'm so very happy to hear you're finding yourself here, Nesta, Clotho's pen writes out. Have you given any thought to a more permanent assignment?

"I...thought you were supposed to."

With your input, of course. We would never want you to do something you were uncomfortable with.

But Gwyn's not comfortable with Merrill, is she? "I don't know. There's not really anything wrong with any of the priestesses, I suppose." It's only when Clotho begins lightly shaking with amusement that Nesta realizes she probably shouldn't have said that. "That is...I like them." She does. Enough.

Well, I'm happy to hear that, too.

Nesta rises, rather abrupt. "I've got to sort books," she says, and doesn't wait for a proper goodbye before leaving.

---

The amount Nesta has improved after only a few short weeks of being in the library floors Cassian. Her weight gain, voluntarily asking him for self-defense lessons, her performance in said lessons, and she still manages to find time to ask if other girls can join. Not even touching upon the fact that she's said she doesn't feel so dependent on alcohol anymore.

It shows incredible strength of character, and it makes Cassian's heart swell so much that he almost doesn't care when he meets an unfamiliar, tipsy young male he realizes must be one of the rebels in Windhaven, glaring at him.

Almost.

"What are you doing outside of your camp, boy?" Boy, he says, because he is one. He's not yet participated in the Rite.

"Visiting family," the boy slurs. "Sir," he adds, mocking.

"Go home," he orders, trying to imitate Nesta when she's at her coldest.

Perhaps it works, because the boy blanches before sneering and turning away.

He has to tell Rhys they're getting more brazen. Normally Cassian wouldn't care at all what any of them say to him-or at least, say he doesn't care-but if these pricks are bringing Nesta into it, all bets are off. He's going to follow up on whoever that was and make sure he doesn't come back to this camp until this situation is under control. Until the threat on the throne, on Nesta's life, is vanquished.

Shaking himself, he pushes into Emerie's shop. "Good morning."

She looks up. "You're back. Hello," she adds.

He gives her a smile. "Who was that?"

Emerie does not return his expression. "My baby cousin, Bellius," she says, bitter. "But never mind him." Just like that, Emerie phases out of her ire and into a cool, detached expression. Just like Nesta, he thinks. Perhaps that was why they liked each other-if they liked each other. "What can I help you with?"

"Perhaps you can help me," he says. "Nesta-Lady Nesta-you met here a few weeks ago?"

"Yes," she says, careful. "I remember."

"Well," he says, unsure of how to introduce the subject. "She's...started taking some self-defense lessons. For exercise. With me."

Emerie looks unconvinced. "For exercise?"

"And she thought you might be interested in joining. And that you have some friends who might be interested, too."

Emerie's face doesn't betray anything. She studies him, and it's been about ten seconds before she says, "Did she?"

"Yes," he says, feeling only slightly like perhaps the two of them training together might not be good for him.

"Hm," she says. After another minute of her own quiet deliberation, she says, slowly, "I will attend one of these lessons...and then I will...consult with my friends."

"All right," Cassian says, thankful that it's over. "Someone will be along to pick you up Monday morning."

He doesn't dawdle too long in saying goodbye. He has a lot to cover before Monday-figure out the best way to introduce self-defense to very traumatized, potentially, females, and now he'll have Emerie, and Nesta. What kind of dynamic will that create?

But he's been a soldier his whole life. Surely he can handle a few young females.

Hopefully.

---

Nesta has taken to carrying around her notebook wherever she goes, just in case she gets an idea of some new thing she can try. A girl named Deridre approaches her and asks her what self-defense is like, and if it's at all like the meditative yoga they do with the priestess Agata, so she writes that down. She goes to one of Daphne's lectures for the first time and learns about resuscitation and scrawls the name of a method to stop choking that seems simple enough to learn. Gwyn sees her writing and says, "You know, your finger nails are shaped so nicely. How come you never paint them?" so she adds that to her list, too.

She finds, actually, that it's quite nice to carry the book around. It's nice to have an excuse to write with such a fine pen. It's been years since she has.

Her sisters visit her over the weekend at her invitation and they are thrilled by her new things.

"I could teach you to paint," Feyre suggests.

Nesta wants to reply that the idea is to attempt things that do not make her want to pitch herself off the veranda, but instead she says, "You already tried that."

"Right," she says, deflating.

"But," she says, oddly disturbed by this response, and grasping for something to say, "maybe we can...sculpt. Or something. One day."

Feyre brightens at this. "Whenever you have time," she says, happily.

"How's self-defense going, Nesta?" Elain asks, would-be casual.

Nesta rolls her eyes. "You've heard we're inviting other girls?"

"Oh, Nesta, I just think it's such a grand idea-"

"Everyone's really excited about it, honestly, they've been trying for something like this for so long-"

"And with the Illyrian girls, Cassian said-"

"We know it's not exactly a unit, but still so impressive-"

"And we hear you're doing really well!"

"Yes! Really well! Maybe I could join you one day, too," Feyre says, hopeful.

"I'd watch. Or, or maybe even try some!"

Nesta takes a sip of water. She forgets how much noise these two make, honestly. "I don't think it's as exciting as you've imagined," she says. "Sure, you can come one day. Maybe not while the other girls...I'm a bit nervous," she confesses, suddenly. "Clotho and Thalia wouldn't let if they thought it was a bad idea, but I don't know..." She looks out onto the rainy city. The House keeps the interior warm for her, but sometimes she thinks she can still feel the cold in her bones anyway. "I mean, I'm the only one who ever leaves the library, and it could go really wrong. Obviously, no one's going to force herself to do this, and they can just no, but-uh," she finishes on a stammer, as she turns back to look at her sisters.

For there are shining silver tears in Elain's eyes, and Feyre's face looks cracked.

What has she said? What horrible thing has she done?

"No, no," Feyre says hurriedly, reading her expression.

"Sorry, Nesta," Elain says, bringing her hands to wipe her eyes. "It's just...it's just so nice to see you like this...about something."

"Oh," Nesta says, eventually.

Her sisters leave in the evening, but the likeness of their faces in her mind do not. Their expressions, their...love.

Is she really so different now, she wonders all weekend. Is she so much better? She doesn't feel particularly much of anything.

If this is better, then what had she been before?

Monday morning rolls around quickly, and she is decked in the uniform the House has supplied her and finished with a light breakfast, waiting at the arena on the roof before the sun has even fully risen.

"Nervous too?" Cassian says from behind her as he neatly lands in.

"I suppose," she says, not turning around.

"How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes."

He chuckles. "Maybe more nervous than I am. Well...shall we begin?"

"No one's here yet."

"So? We can start just the two of us." He shrugs out of his jacket. "Would put us at ease, at least, don't you think?"

Us, he says. Like they are the same. They get nervous by the same things and the same things calm them down and they do it all together.

"Yes," she says, clearly needing it.

The movements come easier than on Thursday. Each time she gets better, and it is, she will admit, a rare sort of feeling. To know that she is improving at something. To feel it in her blood and bones.

Cassian's instructions leave no room for worrying in her mind. When she slips out of his holds, breaks out of his grip, all she can think of are his body and hers, anticipation of his next move and victory when she gets it right, or disgruntlement when she is wrong. They move through the steps in sync, almost like the ballet she used to study, and she is so consumed with it that she does not notice until they are done that they have an audience.

Not a particularly big one. Gwyn, Deirdre, and Azriel has brought Emerie, but an audience nonetheless.

"All right," Cassian says. "So what Nesta and I just did is called the Grunge Hook." He launches through into an explanation of what it means and Nesta blinks as she realizes he must have known they all had arrived. Seen them, heard them.

Her cheeks go cold. She can never notice anything else when he's there. Certainly not as they were; touching, talking...

"So Emerie and Nesta, and, ah, Miss..."

"Gwyn," Gwyn says at the same time Deirdre says, "Deirdre."

"Right," Cassian says. "Well, you two pair up."

Emerie walks over to Nesta and they are ready faster than the other two. Nesta tenses. They have not yet been outside-perhaps this was a mistake-what will Gwyn think of her now? She won't sit next to her for lectures anymore, won't come help her put books away-

But it is only a moment, and then Gwyn turns to Cassian and says, "I guess we should have dressed differently."

"You can wear whatever you're comfortable with," he says. "And you don't have to do anything you don't want to, either."

So Deirdre keeps her hood secured on, but Gwyn shrugs her robe off entirely to reveal simple, like-colored dress. Perhaps she'd like leggings and a skirt like Nesta's, she thinks. If she decides to continue...if other girls decide to join...

Emerie's, surprisingly, not as good at the movements as Nesta is. Surprisingly because Nesta doesn't really think of herself as good at this, just better than before, and because, well, Emerie's Illyrian, and all the Illyrians Nesta knows...

"It's your wings," Azriel says, approaching. "They throw you off balance."

She droops. "So I can't. Because I'm clipped."

Nesta flinches-it's such an ugly word. But what to say?

Azriel answers before she can, his shadows clearing from his face. "Of course not," he says, patient. "Just hold yourself this way," and he shows her how to maneuver her wings.

Emerie seems as though her emotions sway easier than Nesta's, as she appears cheered up by this. "Let's try again," she says to Nesta.

And they do, but it is not like before, with Cassian. It is not as in sync, and she is not as focused. Over on the other side, under Cassian's watch, Gwyn and Deirdre are doing even worse.

When the hour is done, Deirdre hurries back down faster than she has moved throughout the whole lesson, and Gwyn shoots Nesta a small smile, and nods her head once at Azriel, before saying, "Good to see you again," and leaving. Emerie says, "Thanks for thinking of me," and perhaps sounds a bit more genuine, but she turns to ask Azriel to take her back right after, and then she is gone too.

"Brilliant," Nesta says aloud, miserable.

Cassian looks over at her, surprised. "What?"

"Are you kidding me? That was horrible."

Cassian laughs. "Are you kidding me? That was great!"

"Enough," she snaps, skin burning. "I don't need-"

"Woah," he says, raising his hands. "Woah. Seriously, Nesta, what's wrong?"

She clenches her hands into fists. "Stop mocking me."

"I'm not!" he protests, and his stupid eyes are wide and innocent and his stupid voice is confused and concerned when he says, "Come on, why are you upset?" so she has no choice but to answer.

"They hated it and they were bad."

Cassian laughs again. A real laugh this time, with his head tilting back, and the sound echoing in the mountains. Her heart lurches. She ignores it.

"They did not hate it," he says, eyes twinkling. "And they were not bad. They're novices. Not everyone's a born natural like you, with a perfectly paired partner in me," he teases, winking, almost as though good-natured.

"They couldn't get away fast enough." Deirdre didn't even take off her hood. So much for helping other females.

Cassian's grin falters. Shit. Had she said that out loud?

He moves closer to her. "Do you know how many clipped Illyrian females have agreed to come to anything remotely similar to this?"

"You know I don't," she snaps, but he doesn't rise to her bait.

"None," he says, calm. "Emerie is the first. Do you know how long Deirdre's been in here?"

"No," she says. Longer than Gwyn, but not more than that.

"Since before Amarantha took over."

Nesta winces. Over fifty years, at least, then.

"And she came...you convinced her to come."

"I didn't," she says. "Thalia-"

"She told me," he interrupts. "She told me you told her what it was like and she wanted to try it."

Nesta stills at this. "Well...what does it matter if she just tries it once?"

He laughs-again! Why does he laugh so often? "Aren't you doing that? Trying things once? Oh, no, I don't mean it in a bad way, Nes, don't look like that. I'm just saying...okay. So it's not for everyone. Maybe she tries it once and never does it again. But it's still worth a whole fucking lot that she tried. And that's because of you. And how do you know she's not going to try again, anyway? Because she left when the hour was up?"

Nesta reddens slightly.

"Fuck," he says, and this time it doesn't amuse her, his easy swearing. "I-shit. Nesta. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings."

She startles. "I-what?"

"I just mean..." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Look. You did a good thing. Whether or not they continue, you did a good thing. And I think they will, for the record. Emerie might not want to come every day, you know, she might not have time...but I think Gwyn liked it enough."

Nesta feels something inside of her flutter. "She did?"

Cassian nods. "Definitely." He looks at her for another moment, then shakes his head.

"What?" she asks, dreading the answer.

"Nothing," he says. "I just don't understand how you can't possibly be so proud of yourself. Especially today." He shrugs slightly, completely oblivious to what is happening inside of her. That feeling from Clotho's office. What is that?

But it is gone as soon as it arrives, just like last time. He says, "See you tomorrow, Nesta," and leaves. And then she does too.

---

Cassian, Nesta learns over the course of the next few weeks, is right.

Not about her, obviously. But about the females still being interested.

Gwyn's excited about it. "I didn't realize you were so good," she gushes.

Nesta huffs in amusement. "Hardly."

"Well, better than the rest of us!"

"Just a bit more practice," she says. And there is something about the lessons with Cassian...though they don't do as much together, though, anymore. Not with the others there now. She almost wishes that she had not invited everyone for each of the lessons...maybe one morning with him just to herself.

But that's-that's just absurd. He's hardly hers.

Deirdre finds her that Monday, too, and thanks her for convincing her to go. Nesta privately wonders what on earth it was she had said that worked, because the conversation barely stands out in her mind, but she tells Deirdre she's glad to hear she enjoyed it, anyway.

"I think Roslin and Ananke would like it too," she says. "Thalia told them it would be good for them, but they were too nervous. I'll try and convince them...I didn't realize how much fun it would be," she adds with a gentle laugh.

Fun?

"Oh," Nesta says. "Oh...well, good. I mean, good to hear. I hope they...join too."

And Cassian is right about Emerie as well. She does not come on Tuesday, but she does on Wednesday, and tells Nesta she thinks she can keep coming twice a week.

"And your friends?" she asks.

"They're interested," she tells her. "But I think I have to work a little harder at convincing them."

Nesta nods, not wanting to ask what they might have stopping them from coming. Whatever happened to Emerie's wings-whoever had clipped her-perhaps those females have someone like that in their lives.

It is on the second Wednesday that Emerie arrives that Nesta asks her if she'd like to stay a while longer. She'd already asked Azriel the day before if he could possibly take her back after lunch, and he'd agreed.

There was something odd about talking to Azriel, she noticed. Something about those shadows. Something about the way they-looked?-at her. Something...

But Emerie agrees, if a bit shyly, and she asks Gwyn if she'd like to take lunch with the two of them instead of in the priestesses' dining hall, and Nesta has her new thing for the day: hosting people for a meal.

They ogle everything openly, jaws dropping as the House pulls out chairs for them and food appears as Nesta requests it.

"Thank you," she says.

"You're...talking to the House?" Gwyn asks.

"Yes."

"Oh. Thank you," she adds.

"Thank you," Emerie says quickly.

The House likes them too. Nesta can tell. There's a bit more effort being made here today, she thinks, as she notes a fancy bouquet in the middle of the table and finer china than she normally uses. Nesta smiles to herself.

Nesta searches for something she can say, a safe topic that has nothing to do with self-defense, but Gwyn beats her to it. "So, how do you two know each other?" she asks.

"Nesta came to Illyria to scare some rebels who are trying to kill her," Emerie answers casually.

Gwyn jerks her head towards Nesta. "Really?"

"Not quite how I would have phrased it," Nesta says. "But true enough, I suppose."

"Why are they trying to kill you?" Gwyn says, eyes wide.

Wonderful. What a fantastic luncheon this is.

"They don't like me very much."

"They're scared of her," Emerie says. "And they want to overthrow the High Lord and High Lady." She turns to Nesta. "What do you think of that?"

Nesta raises an eyebrow as she cuts into her food. "Of killing my sister and Rhysand? Well, I've certainly thought of it myself, at times."

They both laugh. Nesta blinks. Then she smiles slightly.

"I have to assume I'm against them," she says. "But to be honest, I don't really understand any of the politics here. I'm...not very well-informed."

"Oh, neither am I," Gwyn says, shaking her head. "It's terrible. I mean, I've lived in this court all my life, and I'm so pitifully ignorant. It's ridiculous. I don't know the first thing about Illyria, like. Or even Velaris, really. And I have no excuse. I live in a library, for gods' sakes."

"I don't know of any books I'd recommend for you to learn about Illyria," Emerie says, thoughtful. "Not unless you read Illyrian, that is."

"See, I didn't even know there was an Illyrian until you just said that. Pathetic."

"Can you recommend other books?" Nesta says, latching on the chance to steer the conversation away from the history of the Night Court and into perhaps the only topic she might be able to contribute to.

"Oh, of course," Emerie says, pausing to swallow. "What do you like?"

"Romance," Nesta says, as Gwyn says, "Adventure."

"Ooh, The Knight Society. That's both. You can read that together."

Gwyn grins at Nesta. "Book club," she says. "What's it about?"

Emerie launches into a description of the book-the series, actually-and eventually, Nesta finds herself not looking for things to say, but rather just...talking. Not forced. Not desperate. Just a part of the conversation. Easy, flowing...fun, almost.

Funny, at least. Emerie is clutching her sides laughing as she describes the worst romance novel she ever read and Gwyn giggles, her hands covering her mouth, but Nesta says thoughtfully, "That's not such a horrible idea, though."

"You think-"

"No, no, the premise is atrocious, yes," she says. "But that exact scene...that has potential."

"Potential, right," Emerie says, laughing still.

"No, I mean it," she says, but she lets it go, lets the conversation drift naturally.

She is disappointed when Azriel comes to take Emerie back, but picked up by the fact that they all are. Emerie promises to make time to stay for lunch again, either Monday or Wednesday of next week.

"This was so lovely," Gwyn says to her, wistful, as they walk down to the library together. "So much nicer than in the dining hall.

"Really?" Nesta says before she can stop herself. "Well...I eat lunch every day. You can join...if you'd like."

Gwyn brightens. "I would!"

So after two weeks of lessons with other girls (Roslin and Ananke have joined, and Lorelei and Ilana, too, though the later doesn't participate so much as watch), and more random assignments from Clotho, and new things for Thalia, Nesta finally finds herself with a few hours of quiet after Friday evening's lecture has been canceled.

"Shall we read?" she says to the House.

Lights flicker in answer. Too many for the usual yes or no. This means Nesta has to follow.

"All right," she says, standing. "To the veranda?" she asks. But it's too cold out, so she hopes not.

Instead, the House leads her to a room she hasn't been in since her first stay, upon first exploration. She has had no need.

"Oh," she says at the door, softly.

The knob turns slightly, not fully opening. The House giving her the final decision.

But she doesn't want to hurt its feelings, so she opens the door.

The music room-a conservatory, it can be called-just by the sheer size of it-is grander than she remembers. She had opened the door and not even stepped inside, that first time. Just stood there, frozen, before snapping the door shut and hurrying away.

She takes a slow step in, but almost as though she is being walked by some other being, she takes another, and then another, and before she knows it, she is seated at the piano.

Ballroom grand. Enormous. Sleek and glossy and it would sound just perfect, she knows.

Lights flicker from behind. She turns and lets out a little laugh.

"Thanks," she says, shaking her head at the spotlight, "but I don't think I'm going to be learning the trumpet this evening."

The lights stop, as if the House is acquiescing.

The lights above her now flicker briefly. So will you play the piano, then?

Nesta inhales and exhales deeply. Slowly. Again. And again. The same way Cassian has her do after lessons.

There's really...there's really nothing stopping her. There's no reason not to. If she were to pick up her notebook and write down the reasons why she can't play right now, there wouldn't be any.

So why can't she do it?

She doesn't have an answer. So with another deep breath, Nesta closes her eyes and gently presses her thumb to middle C.

The sound is soft, and then that feeling, from with Thalia and Clotho, and Cassian, hits her again. But as she hits the second note, it does not fade away. It stays this time. So she plays.

[cmfan3]

The Perfect Gentleman

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau X Emily Prentiss

Warning: Language

Words: 3.6K

Sorry for making you guys wait for this one. I’ve been a bit busy, but I haven’t stopped writing and I do have more works in the process. Thanks for reading !

The team had just wrapped up a new case in New Orleans with the help of detective Will LaMontagne, Jr. The team made their way towards their SUVs, splitting in two groups. Rossi, Reid and Hotch decided to head to the precinct while Prentiss, Morgan and Penelope waited for the other blonde to finish her conversation with Will.

The detective glanced back at the remaining members before turning towards JJ with a flirtatious glint in his eye, “and now you're leaving? How will I survive a woman like you going so far away?”

Her mouth twitched in amusement, “well, despite what you may have heard... Cell phones can be very good for your health.”

Will smiled confidently as they exchanged numbers, being sure to send a wink her way as she walked back towards her waiting team, prompting a giggle to escape her lips.

Emily’s face dropped as she had watched the whole scene unfold, causing Penelope and Derek to look at each other with concern. “Hey sweetcheeks, don’t think too much about it. It’s just a phone number,” the blonde reached back and softly squeezed the older woman’s hand.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Derek noticed that Emily avoided eye contact, “listen princess, she’s right. It’s not like they’re dating or anything. They’re just friends.” “For now,” the brunette mumbled as she began to chew on her fingernails.

Realising that JJ was on her way to the SUV, the three let the subject drop, but the tension in the car was definitely noticeable. The communications liaison jumped in the back next to Emily, not paying attention to the way all three members tensed as she entered with a bashful smile on her face.

Unnoticed by JJ, who was too busy typing away on her phone, the brunette’s shoulders sagged and her head fell back against her seat. Morgan started up the car and began driving back to the precinct, occasionally glancing back at the older woman with worry shining in his eyes.

After a couple minutes of tense silence, Emily decided that she had enough. Dropping her head slightly and peeking at the phone, she questioned, “so you and detective LaMontagne?”

The question made the blonde’s fingers hover over the screen for a split second before they continued their typing. She didn’t respond to the question, but the blush that rose on her cheeks was enough for Emily’s heart to clench.

The rest of the drive was silent except for the occasional sound of JJ’s fingers clicking away at her phone.

Seven months later and the team was somewhat shocked that the detective and their communication liaison were still in touch. Although JJ tried to stay secretive about it, the team knew where she was going when she was “visiting her mother” every month.

Realizing that the blonde was completely head over heels for the detective, Emily decided that she needed a distraction and tried to find a companion. She brought up the idea to Penelope, causing the peppy woman to let out a series of excited squeals.

Penelope insisted that the older woman should get a cat and so they spent countless days visiting shelters but it was to no avail. Two weeks after the idea was brought up, the team solved a particularly rough case, which caused Emily’s desire for a companion to increase.

The brunette stopped by Penelope’s room before leaving and popped her head through the door, “hey, PG. I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I’m going cat searching again today. After that case, I definitely want a friend to come home to.”

“I hope you know I’m definitely coming with you,” the tech analyst jumped out of her chair and began grabbing her stuff, “I can’t believe you were about to go cat searching and not invite your best friend.”

Emily playfully rolled her eyes and let out a chuckle, “yea, yea, I won’t do it again. Buttt, I’ll be in the car. Don’t take too long or I’m leaving without you.” Penelope let out a gasp and called over her shoulder, “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you wouldn’t dare. Your credit score is on the line.”

The brunette laughed and began walking away, “ok fine. But hurry up and get your cute little butt in the car. I’m waiting.” The younger woman turned and sent a playful wink, “oh don’t worry sweetcheeks, I won’t keep you waiting too long.”

True to her word, Garcia jumped into the passenger seat only a few minutes later. The older woman reached forward and turned the key in the ignition, starting the car while the tech analyst connected her phone and picked music.

Penelope set her phone down and clasped her hands together excitedly as they pulled out of the parking garage, “we’re gonna find the one. I can feel it.” “Whatever you say PG,” Emily shook her head as her lips quirked up in amusement.

Garcia’s scream rang out across the room, scaring a few passerbys, “OH MY GOD- E! Come look at this cutie! He’s absolutely perfect and don’t even think about convincing me otherwise.”

Emily cautiously made her way over, scared to see what Penelope had decided on, but when her eyes landed on the black cat, she knew that her friend was right. He was perfect. “Alright then, he’s the one,” the older woman chuckled as Garcia’s grin got even bigger.

Emily bent down and picked up the tomcat. Her heart swelled with affection when he pushed into her and started purring softly. Seeing the way her friend was already falling in love with him, the blonde did a little happy dance, causing Emily to give a lopsided grin as her eyes twinkled.

“So, Pen,” the brunette passed the cat to her friend, “what should we call him?” Penelope’s mouth dropped and her eyes widened, “you want me to name him? Em, he’s your cat.”

“He’s our cat,” Emily smiled gratefully at the woman in front of her, “you found him, did you not?” The peppy woman smiled and hugged the cat to her chest as she rattled off names, “Houdini? Loki? Shadow?”

Noticing the way Emily’s features slightly scrunched up, Penelope thought for a moment before she lit up, “Sergio.” The older woman smiled softly, repeating the name to herself before responding, “I love it.”

Emily hadn’t even had the cat for more than a day before she started telling her team all about him the next day. She was talking to Spencer and Derek when JJ walked in, hearing the last few parts.

“You guys have no idea. I absolutely love Sergio. He’s the perfect gentleman. I don’t think I’d ever have found him if it weren’t for Garcia. He always listens and never makes a mess-”

JJ cleared her throat, letting her presence be known to the group of three, cutting their conversation short, “we have a case.” The three looked at each other awkwardly before they got up and headed towards the conference room, the blonde following them.

Why am I upset? It’s good that Emily finally found a man. I have a boyfriend who loves me and I love him. I love Will. So why am I bothered that Emily-

Not realizing that her team members stopped walking, JJ bumped into the older woman’s back, causing her to fall forward. Before Emily could hit the ground, the blonde’s arms snaked around her waist, holding her upright.

Feeling how JJ’s arms wrapped around her, Emily’s breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. The younger woman’s brain seemed to malfunction and she didn’t move until she heard someone cough awkwardly. Damnit Spencer.

JJ jerked her arms away bashfully while a blush was already creeping on her face. She cleared her throat and walked to her chair while Emily took her seat, both avoiding eye contact but still aware of each other’s presence.

Penelope watched the scene unfold and her brain started wracking for an explanation as to why JJ became as flustered as the brunette. Her eyes widened, it hit her. JJ is in love with Emily.

Realizing that the team was waiting for her to start the presentation, she grabbed the remote and turned on the projector. Before turning towards the screen, she gave Emily a not so subtle wink.

The blonde profiler looked between the two women, taking in how the tech analyst waggled her eyebrows and the older woman’s forehead creased from what seemed to be confusion. I need to talk to Pen later.

“Wheels up in twenty,” Hotch’s voice called out. The team members gathered their things and began heading out but before Penelope could leave, JJ placed her hand on her shoulder, “can we talk?”

“Of course, goldilocks,” the tech analyst sat down, pulling her friend with her, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” JJ suddenly became shy, squirming in her seat, “I just overheard Em talking to Morgan and Spence. I guess I just wanna make sure that he’s treating her well.”

Penelope’s eyebrows knitted together, “what? who?” JJ’s hands wrung each other out, “Sergio? Em was telling the boys how she loves him and he’s the perfect gentleman. So I guess what I’m trying to ask is, is he good enough for her?”

Realizing that her friend had no idea that Sergio was actually a cat, Penelope bit her lip to keep from laughing, “yea- yes. He’s good enough for her. More than good enough. He’s what she needed. Don’t worry about it, goldilocks, he’d never hurt her.”

The peppy woman was somewhat shocked to see how her friend’s shoulders seemed to deflate and her face fell for a split second before a forced smile took form. JJ silently got up and patted Penelope’s shoulder before walking out and going to her office.

As soon as she walked in, she shut the door behind her, not bothering to lock it as she fell onto the couch, the tears already building. Come on Jennifer. Why does this bother me so much? I can’t have feelings for Emily, can I? I love Will. We’ve been toge-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Penelope barging in and hurriedly closing it shut behind her. The tech analyst sat on the couch next to her friend and grabbed her hands. Penelope waited until JJ calmed down and sat up before she questioned, “Jen, do you like Emily?”

JJ let out a long sigh, thinking before she answered, “no? Yes? I don’t know, Pen. I have Will. I love him.” Penelope tilted her head and looked at the distressed woman, “but you’re not in love with him… Are you?” The tears that broke free and travelled down JJ’s face were enough of an answer.

The tech analyst gathered her friend into her arms and began rubbing circles on her back, “tell her how you feel.” JJ pulled back in surprise and wiped her tears away, “Pen- no. I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to ruin what she has. What about Will? How do I break the news to him?”

“Take it one thing at a time. Tell Emily first, you’ll deal with the rest of it as it comes,” Penelope insisted. After a few minutes, she nodded to herself, deciding that her friend was right.

JJ reached out and squeezed her friend’s hands tightly, “thank you,” she whispered. The peppy woman smiled, “anything for you, goldilocks. Now go get your woman.” “After the case,” JJ smiled gratefully.

The case had only taken two days and the team had just gotten back to Quantico. The members were each getting their things and going to their respective cars, ready to head home for the night.

Realizing that the conversation she was about to have would be better in private, JJ decided to head to the brunette’s penthouse. Penelope saw the determination on her friend’s face and she couldn’t be happier at how things were playing out.

Emily had just gotten settled on the couch with a cup of red wine and Slaughterhouse-Five. Sergio was sleeping on her lap when she heard knocking on the door. Glancing at the clock, she was confused as to why someone was knocking on her door at 10:27 PM.

After the knocking wouldn’t stop, she called out, “coming!” She set the book down on the table and softly moved Sergio off her lap before she made her way towards the door.

Swinging the door open, the older woman was surprised to find JJ standing there, nervously tapping her foot. Emily questioned, “JJ? Are you ok? Is something wrong?” The blonde took a deep breath before answering, “yes, actually. Something is wrong.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but JJ continued before she could say anything, “I know you just met someone and I don’t want to make anything harder for you. I overheard you talking to the boys and how you met this amazing man named Sergio and how you love him, and well- I guess it made me realize my feelings for you.”

The brunette felt like she was in a dream, but she bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing at the confusion. She nodded her head softly, indicating to her friend to continue.

“I know I have Will. He’s amazing. I love him. I really do. But, I’m not in love with him,“ the younger woman explained. Emily’s eyes widened in realization, but JJ continued, “I’m not in love with him because I’m in love with you, Emily Prentiss. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least tell you.”

The older woman was frozen in place, unable to process what she just heard fast enough since her brain had turned to mush.

JJ searched Emily’s eyes for some sort of answer before she turned and began walking away, the hurt in her voice evident, “it’s ok, you can just forget about it. I’m sorry.”

Seeing that the woman she loved was walking away from her was enough to spur Emily into action. She reached out and grabbed the blonde’s hand, squeezing it softly. Unable to meet the brunette’s eyes, JJ stared at the ground. Emily’s eyes twinkled and a smile tugged at her lips, “I have a confession too. Sergio is actually… my cat.” JJ’s head snapped up and she frantically searched the older woman’s face, her heart swelling with hope.

Laughing at the reaction, Emily slowly pulled the smaller woman closer, placing a hand on her cheek, “and I’m in love with you too Jayje. I have been since I can remember.” The corner of JJ’s mouth quirked up and she turned scarlet, “if this is a joke, it’s not funny Em.”

Smiling softly, Emily leaned in, placing a light kiss on the blonde’s lips before pulling back, “I promise, it’s not. I’m in love with you, Jennifer Jareau.”

JJ wrapped her arms around the brunette’s neck, pulling her in for a more passionate kiss. Emily’s hands reached down and gripped the younger woman’s hips as their lips melded together.

But before things could escalate, JJ jumped back and nearly screamed when she felt something furry rub on her legs. Emily quickly looked down and loudly laughed when she realized it was just Sergio. She bent down and picked him up, “speak of the devil. Jayje, this is Sergio.”

The blonde reached out and scratched him behind the ears, his purrs reverberating through his body. The older woman watched how the woman she loved fell in love with the black tomcat.

JJ’s heart promptly melted from the affection he was showing her. She glanced up and became shy when she saw how Emily was staring at her like she was the only person in the world.

The brunette’s eyes crinkled as a smile stretched across her face, “how about we go inside?” The younger woman leaned in and placed a light kiss against her lover’s lips before speaking regretfully, “I would love to, but I need to go talk to Will and tell him everything.”

Emily nodded understandingly and bent down, setting Sergio back inside before she gathered the smaller woman in her arms, kissing the top of her head, “I’ll be here waiting. I love you.”

JJ’s eyes closed as she hummed in response, leaning into the embrace, “I love you too.” The two separated after another minute, each going their separate way, hearts full and hopes high for the future.

Hearing the front door open, Will leaped from the couch and practically ran towards it. As soon as JJ stepped inside, he gathered her in his arms and sighed a breath of relief.

The blonde backed out of his embrace, noticing how he didn’t give her the same feeling of safety that she got when she was in Emily’s arms. His features formed into those of hurt, “ma chérie?”

“Will, we need to talk,” the profiler sighed as she led him to the couch. She sat down and placed her hands in her lap, quietly thinking about the best way to approach it while he searched her face for some kind of explanation.

JJ took a deep breath before making eye contact, “the first thing I want to say is that you’ve been nothing but amazing to me and I wish I didn’t have to do this because I really do love you, Will.”

“Then don’t do this,” he pleaded while the hurt was evident on his face. Realizing that she was the one causing him pain, tears began to pool in the blonde’s eyes.

She squeezed his hands as she continued, “Will. I love you. I do. But I’m not in love with you.” The detective pulled his hands from her grasp and began pacing and his mood seemed to completely switch, “who is it?”

The profiler looked taken aback, “I- I don’t- what are you getting at, Will?” He continued pacing as he threw his hands in the air from frustration, “you know what I’m talking about Jennifer. Who are you in love with?”

JJ averted her eyes as she whispered, “Emily.” Will stopped pacing and stood in front of her, letting his arms drop to his sides, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The blonde’s head snapped up, her feelings of guilt being replaced with those of anger, and her eyes narrowed, “excuse me?”

“Yea, excuse you. That’s disgusting. You have a man who cares for you. Loves you. And you wanna go and be a dyke? You should be disgusted with yourself. Fucking pathetic,” Will nearly shouted, the malice in his voice clear.

Letting out a breathless laugh as she got up and gathered her things, JJ replied, “and to think- I loved you once. Well I’m glad you showed your true colors, detective.”

“Get the fuck out,” he spat. “With pleasure,” the profiler walked out and slammed the door behind her. As she started her car, she knew exactly where she could go, she pulled out of the driveway, glad to finally be able to love the older woman freely.

Emily was curled up in her bed with Sergio when someone pounding at the door woke her up. She glanced at the clock. 1:13 AM Fucking hell. I swear to god, if it’s anyone but Jennifer-

Her thoughts were interrupted when the knocking continued, causing her to get out of bed and pad towards the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out and when the knocking didn’t stop, she yelled, “hold your goddamn horses! I’m coming!”

Upon opening the door, her anger faded into worry, “Jen-” When suddenly, she was cut off by the younger woman practically jumping forward and passionately connecting their lips.

Pulling away for a breath, Emily saw stars behind her eyelids and a smile ghosted her lips as she let out a shaky breath. JJ’s face broke out in a carefree grin, “I’m sorry, I had to.”

“It’s not like I’m complaining,” the brunette laughed and pulled her lover into a soft kiss before leading her inside and shutting the door behind them.

The two women were cuddled up in Emily’s bed. The older woman had her arms wrapped around JJ while the blonde laid with her head on Emily’s chest, listening to her heartbeat.

Emily ran one hand through the blonde hair while her other hand lightly travelled up and down JJ’s spine. Feeling safe in the brunette’s arms, JJ wrapped her arms around the other woman’s torso.

The younger woman cleared her throat, “I just wanted to tell you that me and Will are officially over.” Not able to see her reaction, JJ focused on how she heard Emily’s heartbeat quicken and how the brunette smiled into her hair.

Emily audibly swallowed before she questioned, “how did the conversation go? And what does it mean for us? I definitely want to build something with you Jen, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

The smaller woman looked up and made eye contact with the chestnut eyes she’s always loved, “it definitely didn’t go how I expected, but it’s over. And I want to build something with you too. That’s all I want. I want to grow with you. I want to love you for as long as you’d let me, Em.”

Leaning down, the older woman placed a gentle but loving kiss upon JJ’s lips before she pulled back and caressed her cheek, “I can’t think of anything that I’d want more, Jayje.”

“I love you,” the two women simultaneously declared with goofy but loving smiles on their faces as they got comfortable in each other's arms and let the exhaustion of the day overtake them.

[erin-bo-berin]

Growing Family

MASTERLIST

Woo I’m finally back to writing some! It feels like it’s been a lot longer than it actually has since I’ve posted a new fic. I hate to disappoint, but this is just fluffy daddy Spencer today, but I am working on a few new smuts that should be coming up next so stay tuned for those! Also shout out to @velventeenaries for coming up with some of the lines Rossi said when we were having a convo on this situation. Thus, the inspiration for this fic was born. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 2,557

“Penny G at your service, how may I help you?”

You smiled at the familiar female voice that came through the speakers of your car.

“Hey Penelope,” you said.

“Y/N! My favorite non-BAU chica! What can I do for you, today?”

You chuckled knowing good and well the chipper, eccentric and kind hearted blonde was most likely swinging in her chair, twirling a feathery pen in her hands as you spoke.

“I was just curious if the rest of the team was back yet? If so, I wanted to swing by before heading home. I just got out of my doctor’s appointment.”

“Please tell me you have ultrasound pics!” Penelope’s voice grew in excitement.

“That I do,” you grinned.

“Okay, good. Yes, they’re here and you better be here in 5 minutes or less or I will hunt you down for those pictures. PG out.”

You shook your head, exasperated by the usual antics of Penelope Garcia. She was basically the fairy godmother tech analyst of the Behavioral Analysis Unit—the department of the FBI where your husband Spencer worked.

Just recently in the last few months, you and Spencer had found out you were pregnant. Being that it was yours and his first baby, the excitement was unreal but it wasn’t just limited to the two of you. The rest of the BAU were just as excited too.

Garcia was maybe on another level of excitement though. She was already planning on things to buy for the newest BAU baby. It had been almost four years since a new little bundle of joy had arrived within the extended BAU family. Rose Mary Simmons, the fifth and final child of team member Matt Simmons and his wife Kristy, was no longer a baby. She was speeding towards four and would be starting kindergarten in only a year and a half.

“You know I love all my godsons and goddaughters,” Penelope had told you, not long after you and Spencer had announced your happy event, “But I need more baby love in my life and thank God you’re having a baby. I will happily babysit any time you want.”

“Oh, Garcia,” you snickered to yourself, thinking back on the memory as you maneuvered your car through the busy D.C. traffic.

As you’d told Garcia, you’d just gone to your latest doctor’s appointment. You were about 15 weeks along and already showing more than you expected to, which peaked your curiosity. If you were to guess, you could easily pass for 5 almost 6 months pregnant, not barely 4.

You had planned to ask the doctor at today’s appointment if she was sure it wasn’t twins. You had a strong feeling it was. Being only 15 weeks though, you’d only had one prior ultrasound around 7 weeks—not long after you’d discovered your pregnancy and even then, the ultrasound had revealed only one heartbeat. Typically, an expectant mother didn’t have another ultrasound until around 20 weeks, obviously to determine the sex, but your doctor thought it best to check. If anything, it was possible that you were just carrying further forward than usual. According to Spencer—and the many times he’d told you this—it was extremely possible it was just the way your body carried pregnancy. You knew well enough that bump sizes varied greatly.

You’d hoped Spencer could join you for today’s appointment—one that had been scheduled last month—but unfortunately, he’d been away on a case with the team and was on the way home.

You told him you could easily reschedule, but he heard nothing of it.

“You’re going today. Just to make sure little one is okay. You can show me the pictures when we’re back,” he’d said to you, earlier that morning, over the phone.

You’d reluctantly agreed.

But now, you couldn’t help but smile at the little secret you had.

•

“There she is!” Garcia squealed, running towards you practically the moment you stepped foot out of the elevator.

“Hey, Penelope,” you smiled, embracing your friend.

“How are we feeling?” she grinned, pulling away to rub your bump, “Is it twins like you thought?”

You chuckled, knowing Garcia wasted no time in getting to the point.

“Well, about that…” you took her arm, walking with her into the doors of the BAU.

-

You’d filled Garcia in on the way towards the briefing room where most of the team had settled for the time being, just trying to relax after the trip home. If her huge smile was any indicator, Spencer would know before you could even get the words out.

“Whoa! If it isn’t baby mama Reid,” Luke grinned, coming to give you a brotherly side hug, “Wow, you’re enormous.”

Garcia’s eyes widened, swinging an arm out to hit Luke’s chest—hard.

“Ow! Uh enormously beautiful I mean. You’re glowing,” he tried to cover.

“Nice save,” you laughed, heading over to your husband, who was anxiously awaiting to wrap his arms around you.

“You idiot,” you heard Penelope mumble to Luke, “You never tell a pregnant woman how big they are.”

You bit back a laugh and melted into Spencer’s embrace. He’d been gone for almost a week and you’d missed him, a lot.

“Hi, baby,” he grinned, picking you up as he hugged you.

You bent your legs slightly as you were lifted a few inches off the ground and hugged his neck, tightly.

“Soon you won’t be able to do this,” you laughed, then waved to the rest of the team in the room, “Hi guys.”

You patted Spencer’s shoulder lightly.

“Spence, set me down long enough so I can say hi to everyone and not be rude,” you laughed.

He obliged with a grin, giving a quick pat to your bump and you went to hug Tara, JJ and Matt.

“What’d you find out?” JJ asked, “Spence mentioned you had a doctor’s appointment today.”

“Well…” you trailed off, nervously.

“Is the baby okay?!” Spencer asked, his face morphing into panicked concern, his brows furrowed.

“Everything’s fine,” you reassured quickly, “But it’s not just a baby,” you said hesitantly.

His eyebrows rose, looking shocked.

“It’s twins?”

“Not exactly,” you laughed hesitantly, “We’re having triplets.”

Spencer looked as shocked as you felt when the technician had told you the same news. To know you weren’t growing one baby but three.

He stood for a second, blinking at you in surprise. You were about to say something when you suddenly realized how pale he was. He swayed on his feet before falling backwards.

“Spence!”

“Spencer!”

“Reid!”

Everyone shouted at once, your shriek of his name probably the loudest. They all moved into action at once as you stood horrified, afraid something was terribly wrong.

Luckily, Matt had been quick enough to catch Spencer before he hit the ground. With he and Luke on either side, they managed to sit him in one of the chairs, his head lolling back.

“Is he okay? What’s wrong?” you asked, quickly at his side, not knowing exactly what to do.

“He’s fine, he just passed out, that’s all,” Tara reassured you.

You nodded in relief, taking a seat in a chair next to him, taking his hand. 

There was a commotion at the door and you looked over, seeing David Rossi running in—unit chief Emily Prentiss on his heels.

“What’s all the noise about?” Rossi asked, eyeing Spencer, “What happened?”

“Spencer fainted and Y/N’s having triplets!” Garcia exclaimed.

Rossi’s eyes flickered to Spencer once again.

“Nah, kid’s just sleeping. Making up for the next 18 years of it he’s gonna lose.”

“Dave,” Emily sighed, exasperated, coming over to bend down and hug you.

“Congrats,” she grinned, “Not only are you having triplets, but you’re the only person that’s made Spencer faint.”

You laughed a bit.

“Definitely wasn’t my intention.”

“He’ll be fine,” Rossi waved a hand.

Just as he said that, a groaning came from your right and you looked over, to see Spencer stirring.

“What did I tell you?” Rossi said, coming over to give his congratulations with a big smile.

“Bouna fortuna,” he grinned, giving you a kiss on each cheek.

“What happened?” Spencer groaned, his hand slipping from your grip to rub at his eyes.

“You just got the shock of your life, kid,” Rossi snickered.

“The last thing I remember is you saying triplets and everything went black,” Spencer said.

“Yeah, you fainted,” you tried to hold back your grin and failed.

“Are we really having triplets?” Spencer asked, eyes wide once again.

“I’m afraid we are,” you grinned.

His look of surprise quickly turned into one of excitement. He grabbed your face, kissing you hard, not caring about kissing you in front of the others. The rest of the team whistled, clapped and laughed, their joy just as huge as your own.

Rossi’s following remark made Spencer pull away from your lips and laugh. Your mouth curved upwards and joined him.

“Don’t forget! David is a great name for a boy!”

•

Everyone was gathered at your baby shower. You had been speechless when you first saw the amount of stacked diapers and wipes—along with at least 5 diaper cakes from different team members. You were sure that those would last maybe a week or two with three babies to change.

“Kid, come on! We’re a family! I’ll be grandpa Dave! We can get matching shirts that say Big Dave and Little Dave!”

You laughed, overhearing Rossi’s exclamations to Spencer, all the way from the food table.

Months had passed and your belly had grown exponentially. You could hardly believe that your body was capable of carrying three precious little babies.

Even though your belly was covered in stretch marks, your back hurt and your feet were swollen, you couldn’t be happier. You and Spencer would soon start a new chapter in your lives—a scary one, albeit exciting one too.

Only a few weeks after your reveal of the babies to Spencer and the BAU team, the two of you had discovered you were welcoming two girls and one boy. Ever since then, Rossi had been hounding you about naming the baby after him.

Unbeknownst to him, you and Spencer had already picked out names and were going to surprise Rossi after they were born. But due to his current banter with Spencer, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold the secret for any longer.

“Rossi,” you grinned, very much waddling over to the two men, “You're incorrigible.”

“I know. It’s the Italian in me,” he replied, nonchalantly.

“Well, much to Spencer’s dismay I’m sure, you’ll be happy to know you’re getting your wish,” you said.

Rossi looked stunned for a moment. You were positive this was the only time in the years you’d known him that he’d ever been stunned speechless like this.

“We decided to name our son David Gabriel Reid,” Spencer beamed, “We didn’t want to cause any confusion on names, so we’re going to call him Gabriel, but he can still be your little Dave if you want.”

It finally looked like it had sunk in when Rossi pulled both you and Spencer into a big hug, smiling bigger than you’d ever thought possible.

“That’s perfectly fine by me,” he grinned, kissing the tops of yours and Spencer’s heads, “I’m gonna teach him to play ball and how to cook spaghetti carbonara.”

“Don’t forget, you’ll have two little girls to deal with too,” Spencer laughed.

“Oh don’t you worry. They’ll learn how to cook and drop kick anyone who even looks at them the wrong way,” Rossi smirked.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you snickered.

“Speaking of,” Tara asked, popping up in the conversation, “When are you going to tell us what you’re naming your three little geniuses?”

“Yeah, I wanna know too,” Luke piped in, also walking up to the now small gathering.

JJ, Matt, Emily and Penelope followed behind him.

“Well if you didn’t catch it before, Baby A—the boy—is going to be David Gabriel,” Spencer beamed, “After the best father figure, mentor, co-worker, friend and member of this crazy BAU family. I couldn’t think of a better name to give my son.”

There were cheers all around as everyone lifted their glasses of champagne—apple juice for you—and clinked them together in celebration. You couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across your face to see how happy it made the well known, lovable, David Rossi.

“What about the girls’ names though?” Emily asked once the noise had settled down.

“Well there’s a bit of a backstory to that before we tell you the names,” Spencer began.

“We chose Gabriel’s name together because we already knew we wanted to actually make part of his name after Rossi, but we each picked a name, separately. One for each girl. Spencer decided on a name for baby B and I, baby C.”

“It’s also kinda funny what we both came up with,” Spencer interjected.

“Before the babies are born, kid!” Rossi said, “What are the names?”

“Baby B is Abrielle Jade—a name Y/N said she wanted to name a little girl on our very first date.”

Luke whistled.

“I’d be surprised that you remembered that but then again, you’re you.”

“Believe me, I’d forgotten I’d told him that, myself,” you chuckled.”

“And the other little girl is?” JJ prompted.

“Spensa Rae,” you said, looking at Spencer, a twinkle in your eye, “I wanted to name her after her daddy in some way, but it’s unique enough to be her own name as well. Rae is after my grandmother, too.”

“Those are the cutest names!” Garcia squealed, “Perfect timing time to give you my present for little Gabriel, Abrielle and Spensa then.”

She hobbled off in a partial run—not able to move too fast because of the grass in the backyard and her high heels—and grabbed three gift bags. She came back, handing them to you.

“Open it, open it!” she beamed.

You laughed at her excitement, pretty excited yourself. You handed one bag to Spencer as you reached into one bag, then the second, pulling out two matching onesies.

You looked over to see Spencer pulling out a third matching onesie from the gift bag you’d given him.

“Read the front,” Penelope beamed.

Opening one, you saw it read Rossi’s Sous Chef #2.

You laughed, opening the other which had the exact same thing printed on the front, but instead of the number 2, there was a number 3. 

You peered at the one in Spencer’s hands, finding number one. 

“Penelope, these are great!” you laughed, showing Rossi the outfits.

“These babies are going to be so loved,” Spencer smiled demurely, his eyes shining bright with tears.

“They will have plenty of people to love them,” Tara said with a bright smile.

“Lots of arms to hold them and cuddle them,” Luke added.

“Hands to help change diapers,” JJ piped in.

“Lots of kisses and bedtime stories,” Rossi said.

“Plenty of kids to play with them,” Matt chuckled.

“And a godmother to spoil them!” Garcia beamed.

“It’s not just your little family growing,” Emily smiled, coming to stand in between you and Spencer, wrapping an arm around each of you.

She looked around at the team that filled the backyard on this wonderful, summer evening, all gathered to celebrate the miracle of life.

“It’s our BAU family growing, too.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @simp-for-mgg​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar​ @xshakesqueerx​ @queenofmischief​ @mattgraygubler​ @yeah-its-jackk​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @alexisparmentier @la-vie-en-amour1​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @saintd0lce​ @cherryxblossoms​ @jessaminelovelace​ @rainsong01​

[hongnanglen-arina]

The Ulzzang Project - Part 3 | Jeon Wonwoo

 Read part 2  Read part 4

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Genre: a little fluff and angst, crack

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: well, not too angsty I guess but I didn’t re-read.. oh and alcohol consuming

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Hello hello! Sorry for the rather long wait! I thought it could spice it up if someone else is thrown into the pot hehehe (: as always, I’d be happy to know your thoughts about it. Please remember that English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

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You tapped the pencil against your chin. Working on a presentation wasn’t your thing and especially the beginning was the most stressful part, always. A brainstorming sketch was on a sheet of paper in front of you and between the person you were with. It was nice to work on it at a public place and you loved to have cafe sounds in the background. That’s why you suggested this cafe in the first place. You’ve already finished on a couple of presentations here and the vibe this cafe was giving you helped a lot. But you weren’t sure if it was the right decision today - for this presentation. You couldn’t hear the familiar sounds of people talking and relaxing with the coffee machine preparing the next order. All you could hear was whispering. Loud whispering. And you could feel the stares shooting holes in your body from every angle possible.

“We should write down some notes for the first part. Hasn’t be too much. Like in 20 minutes we compare our notes and decide what’s best?” You tried to ignore the glares you got, looking at the boy in front of you.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Actually you liked your professor but his idea to team you up with Jeonghan for this statistics project was stupid. All your prayers that he would change his mind or that Jeonghan would complain so much that you would get a different partner were useless. After he saw who you were, he even insisted doing it with you and you didn’t understand why.

So you just settled with the thought of doing it. Not that you had another option anyways.

But all those girls who were watching you two made you uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

Your project partner leaned back. “I’m fine if you start. I’m sure your pretty head is very useful for this.”

Somehow it didn’t surprise you. His attitude was exactly like you had assumed after everything you head… and also after seeing his Instagram. Was this boy really of no use? Tall and handsome but an asshole? Although you weren’t surprised, you still had some hope that not all good looking people were bad. Best example, your best friend Wonwoo.

The thought of Wonwoo caused you to sigh. Yesterday at this time, you were sitting outside on a bench with your friends. You could even see the place from where you were stuck with Jeonghan if you looked outside the window. After you discovered the new post with Wonwoo’s text, your break was over and everyone left for their next subject. Up until now you weren’t sure what he meant with it. It had to be a joke. Just something to gain more followers and likes. Something fitting for your fake couple page. But why did it make your heart skip a beat when you first saw it? You didn’t know what to say to your best friend or how to address the topic so you thought you would let him take the first step, which hadn’t happened. It made you angry for no reason.

You sighed again. This time louder.

“Are you mad at me?”

Jeonghan’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You didn’t react when I was talking to you so I got worried.”

Quickly lowering your gaze, you flipped around an empty page, readjusting the pencil in your hand. “Oh no no, don’t worry. Everything’s okay. I already have some ideas for our project. Just give me a moment.”

The person in front of you smiled widely at your reply, which you missed out on because you were already scribbling down while your brain was working and distracting itself from your male best friend.

“Oh great! I can leave then, yes? Thank you y/n. We can discuss our project later. Maybe tomorrow, same time same place?” He got up from his chair and was about to turn around with a ‘bye’ when you stood up as well, calling his name.

“Yoon Jeonghan, let me remind you. This is a group project. A group project is supposed to be done as a group. In a group. You may decide who will focus on which part but what you just said sounded as if you expect me to do everything alone. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

He turned around to face you again, the smile still on his lips. “I knew your pretty head was useful. You got it absolutely right. I’m looking forward to the outcome. See you tomorrow then, y/n!”

He really was an asshole.

“Stop you little shit!”

Suddenly it was quiet around you but you didn’t care. You were angry.

“The fact that I was writing and actually trying to be productive wasn’t a hint for you to stand up and go away. I want to do this because I have to. No matter if you’re my partner or someone else. Knowing you better shows me that I would probably be happier with someone else that’s not as ignorant and dumb as you. I really hoped you would prove me wrong but it’s just the looks that you have. Everything else is bad. Anyways, if you leave now, I will talk to our prof and tell him about it. I won’t do it with you if you let me work alone. I will give you one more chance or I’m the one that’s off. So?”

Jeonghan looked at you with wide eyes. 

You were the first girl. The first that wasn’t following him. That wasn’t only agreeing to everything he said. The first girl that wasn’t head over heels for him.

You were different.

“So?” You repeated, slightly impatient. There were quite some places you would rather be right now than here with Yoon Jeonghan and is admires who were glaring at you for not treating him as the hottest and most wanted man on campus. Who came up with this nonsense anyways!?

“What.. do you… want me to do?” He finally asked you and the way he was standing in front of you seemed as if he was confused, scared even.

“The presentation. It has to be done. And for that, you and I will sit here and work on it.”

He slowly flops down on his chair again and for once you thought he looked cute but you quickly shook the thought off before sitting down again as well, taking your pencil again.

As you wanted to continue writing, you heard him clear his throat, causing you to look up from your paper. “What is it?”

“… can you give me a pen and paper?” 

It took you a second until you gave him the things he asked you for. Maybe he had nothing to write. Whatever the reason, you felt great that you made the ‘holy’ Jeonghan work on the project. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole after all.

—

You sat on the floor, back resting against you bed as you took a sip of the new smoothie your mother made. There were too many ingredients, you could only remember it had apple, chia, spinach and banana in it. 

Without noticing, your sleepy mind trailed from how you were working on your presentation with Jeonghan to the boy from your shared Instagram account. There was still no message on your phone from him. Did he just write it underneath the post without a meaning? Were you the only one who was trying to read between the lines to understand what he might wanted to say?

Absentmindedly you grabbed your phone to catch up with the things you missed while being with Jeonghan the whole day after your classes. After seeing again that there was no new message from Wonwoo in you chat app - only one from Chan, asking you if you had seen the new choreography video of a dance team you two liked - you changed the app and scrolled through your Instagram feed. Nothing interesting nor new. On Wonwoo’s personal page was no update. On your shared one was no update. Bored, you clicked the like button on a photo of Dokyeom and his selfmade pizza which looked amazing and a photo of Hoshi’s tiger plushie with the text ‘horanghae’. 

Sighing, the thought of your friend still bothered you. It unusual for him to be this quiet all day. Maybe you should take the first step and just start a conversation? Casually? There was still a high possibility that he wrote the sentence without a meaning so why not say hi?

[Y/n] Hey, what’s up?

Was that casual enough?

2 Minutes passed. No response.

5 Minutes passed. Still no response.

“Why is he like this?!” You whined, letting yourself fall to the side so you were lying on the floor when your mother came into your room after knocking twice. 

“Are you alright dear? Are you exhausted from uni? Or is my smoothie bad?? You can tell me honestly, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You pouted and mouthed ‘uni’ and she nodded understandingly. “Rest then. You know, if you need anything, tell me. I can cook your favorite dish or prepare dessert. I can read you a book or cuddle you to sleep-“

“Mom!”

She laughed and waved apologetic. “Understand. My little girl isn’t so little anymore. Just call whenever you need me. I’ll be in the living room watching my drama.”

You thanked her and watched her leave your room.

Automatically you looked at your phone again, opening Instagram. While you were working on your presentation with Jeonghan, you two exchanged numbers and followed each other on the app. You had an actually nice conversation and got to know him a little better. He wasn’t so snobbish as you though he would be.

Your eyes were glued on Jeonghan’s update from 2 hours ago. It was a photo of you how you were concentrated on writing down your part from your project, two milkshakes in front of you. His had less while your own drink was almost full and untouched because you had a rush of ideas and decided to write them down before it disappeared. You didn’t know he took a photo. That’s when you saw the text he added to the photo.

Interesting. She might become a candidate (:

A candidate for what?? Cocking your head to the side, you wanted to know what he meant with it when your phone chimed, telling you about a new message. When you saw that it was from Wonwoo, your fingers tapped faster to read it.

[Wonwoo] Bored to death. You?

[Y/n] Same. Park in 30? Crave ice cream…

Maybe you replied too fast but you didn’t care. You were just happy he was talking to you even though you weren’t sure why you were worried he wouldn’t. There was no issue between the two of you or was it?

[Wonwoo] Deal. See ya

Although you were relieved he replied and even agreed to seeing you but something in you was still worried for some reason. But you couldn’t deny the little excitement in the back of your mind.

After finishing your smoothie and making your mother happy with it, you complimented her before leaving the apartment to meet up with Wonwoo. Even though it was dark outside, the fact that you were going to meet your childhood friend made your mother worry less. She knew that he was a good person and if something scary would occur, he would defend or help you first. 

With the familiar cheers and wishes that ‘your mother would be overly happy if you two would finally get together as a couple’, you left your home and made your way to the little park. You wondered if Wonwoo was already there. 

While you were walking, your thoughts traveled to everything that happened over the last few days. 

Last weekend, when you decided to start your shared Instagram and act as an ulzzang couple just to see how many likes and followers you could get within a month. The seemingly normal texts under his posts that made your heart skip a beat. The way he babied you more than once which he had never done before. The overall vide he gave was different. You could still recognize your bestie but there was something that had changed but you weren’t able to tell why that was or what it caused. 

Then to uni. Your presentation with the infamous Yoon Jeonghan who you disliked from the second you were introduced to him through your friends and their knowledge about him. He was too handsome that he just had to be arrogant and ignorant. It turned out that he is from the outside but strangely after you scolded him in front of everyone else in the cafe, he was very nice and cooperative all of a sudden. He even told you that he would work on the middle part and you could go through it tomorrow. You still didn’t fully believe him so you might prepare something in case it was all a lie. But you could do that tomorrow. Today your priority was Wonwoo.

When you arrived at the park, he wasn’t there. Maybe you were too happy and walked too fast?

Looking around and making sure that he really wasn’t around, you slowly made your way to the swing and sat down, slightly moving back and forth with your feet on the ground and hands around the chains on each side. You looked down when out of nowhere fear crept up your spine. 

Oh your friends: the ‘what if’s’.

What if he was disappointed in you for whatever reason? Maybe for not texting him sooner? What if he was mad at you for not using your shared account? At least not as often as he did? What if he wasn’t happy about Jeonghan teaming up with you for the presentation? But then again, it wasn’t your decision. He couldn’t blame you.

You shook your head. Those questions should go away. 

You knew why they have appeared.

Because you missed your best friend.

And combined with the fact that you felt his attitude was different over the last week just added to your pile of anxiety. 

A soft tap on your shoulder caused you to snap out of your thoughts. Wonwoo was standing beside you with melon ice cream in his hands, offering you one.

“Heard you wanted ice cream?”

Immediately, you smiled at him, a warmth rushing through your body as you finally saw your friend again and him paying attention to you intensified the relieve.

“Thank you.”

You took one and started eating it while Wonwoo sat down on the other swing, both of you enjoying your ice cream in silence. The noises of your surroundings were kind of far away from you, looking for words to start a conversation.

Once you finished, you looked at the boy beside you, just to notice that he was looking at you too.

“I missed you,” you said in unison and the moment your brains progressed it, you two looked away sheepishly.

It was stupid, you had to admit. It only had been a little over 1 day that you haven’t seen your friend but because of the overall situation, you were were like this.

Again, you were looking for words to form a sentence and to distract yourself from the red cheeks. “W-what were you doing when I sent the message?”

His head turned back to you when he started to talk, “I was playing an online game but it wasn’t my day today. They always killed me with ease. Wherever I was hiding, whatever I thought was a good tactic, they found me and ended my sad life. Your message helped. What about you?”

“Did nothing. Well, complimenting my mother on her new smoothie?”

Suddenly Wonwoo was chuckling. “Sometimes I envy you for not living alone as I do.”

“You’re not alone. I’m literally always at your place.”

Your reply made Wonwoo sigh and you tried to figure out why he was feeling down all of a sudden, waiting for him to answer your silent question but he asked you something else, changing the topic.

“How is your presentation going?”

It took you by surprise but you decided to give him an honest answer, just being happy to have a topic to talk about.

“At first I hated Jeonghan but he’s okay. Really. After I got angry at him, he actually worked on it with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he even volunteered to prepare the middle part. You know, the most important part of the whole thing. He also listened to me and-“

“You got angry at him?”

“U-uh… yeah. That dude wanted to leave me alone and don’t help with it. Can you imagine? He really thought he could get away with it. But not with me, ha!”

He chuckled again, seemingly approving your previous outburst of anger with the other.

While you were watching Wonwoo from the side and admiring his crunched laughter, you remembered his Instagram post and started chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Wonwoo didn’t notice your nervousness as he was shaking his head at the thought of you making a scene in front of his fanclub. He wished he would have seen it happening. Something told him that it wouldn’t be the only occasion for you to lose your temper with him and that he may see it the next time if he sticked to you more often.

“Wanna skip tomorrow’s morning lectures with me?”

The question left your lips faster than you could think and surprised you as well as him when you met Wonwoo’s expression, but his was quickly followed by a smirk.

“Do I smell a mario kart session with greasy food?”

“Yep.”

Hearing his amused snort made you happy for some reason and when he got up and held his hand out for you to grab and follow him, you did as he wordlessly asked and went to his place, hand in hand. Like you often did.

It seemed as if your anxiety was for nothing. He was the same when you arrived at his place, got out of your shoes and offered you a can of beer. He was the same when he asked you what you wanted to eat. He was even the same when he took the last bite of your dish without asking beforehand. And he was the same when he started a fight when he lost against you at mario kart 4 matches in a row. You felt as if it had been a decade since you laughed as much.

You made a mental note not to think too much again when it comes to your best friend.

After a while you two changed to more comfortable clothes as you opened your third can of beer, Wonwoo was on his fourth. That was exactly what you needed. Although it wasn’t the best decision but numbing your previous doubts and fears and enjoying the company of your bestie was the best right now.

“I love spending time with you y/n.”

Thanks to the alcohol in your system, you weren’t too shy to react to his words and felt kind of adventurous. “Thanks for the kind words but to be honest I expected to hear that you want to take your sexy photos now that I’m drunk.”

“Ha ha ah… you’re not completely wrong though.” Wonwoo readjusted his glasses and took a sip of his beer when you said, “Okay. let’s do this.” Your friend nearly choked on the alcohol but asked again what you just said, just in case he heard wrong.

“I said, let’s take those photos for our Instagram.”